Image taken from The Chiseler
Once again the Earth has revolved around the sun long enough that it's that most magical of times, National Poetry Month. This year it also lined up with me finishing my somewhat bi-yearly listen of David Blight's incredible lectures on the Civil War and Reconstruction, so to start NPM, here's Herman Melville's lovely and heart-wrenching take on the assassination of Abraham Lincoln. Melville's prophetic words weren't really borne out by the events in history, but they're still a snapshot of rage at the death of his president. I'm ashamed to say I really don't know much about Melville as a poet, Clarel is one of those works that I've thought about reading for a long time that I haven't picked up, but his prose is so poetic in its own right, of course he translates well to verse.
"The Martyr"
Indicative of the passion of the people
on the 15th of April, 1865
on the 15th of April, 1865
Good Friday was the day
Of the prodigy and crime,
When they killed him in his pity,
When they killed him in his prime
Of clemency and calm—
When with yearning he was filled
To redeem the evil-willed,
And, though conqueror, be kind;
But they killed him in his kindness,
In their madness and their blindness,
And they killed him from behind.
There is sobbing of the strong,
And a pall upon the land;
But the People in their weeping
Bare the iron hand:
Beware the People weeping
When they bare the iron hand.
He lieth in his blood—
The father in his face;
They have killed him, the Forgiver—
The Avenger takes his place,
The Avenger wisely stern,
Who in righteousness shall do
What heavens call him to,
And the parricides remand;
For they killed him in his kindness,
In their madness and their blindness.
And his blood is on their hand.
There is sobbing of the strong,
And a pall upon the land;
But the People in their weeping
Bare the iron hand:
Beware the People weeping
When they bare the iron hand.
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