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W
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HEN
the flush of the new-born sun fell first on Eden's green and gold,
A Lying Spirit sat under the Tree and sang, `New Lamps
for Old!'
And Adam waked from his mighty sleep, and Eve was at
his side,
And the twain had faith in the song that they heard,
and knew not the Spirit lied.
They plucked a lamp from the Eden-tree (the ancient
legend saith),
And lighted themselves the Path of Toil that runs to
the Gate of Death;
They left the lamp for the joy of their sons, and that
was a glorious gain,
When the Spirit cried, `New Lamps for Old!' in the ear
of the branded Cain.
So he gat fresh hope, and builded a town, and watched
his breed increase,
Till Tubal' lighted the Lamp of War from the
flickering Lamp of Peace;
And ever they fought with fire and sword and travailed
in hate and fear,
As the Spirit sang, `New Lamps for Old!' at the change
of the changing year.
They sought new lamps in the Morning-red, they sought
new lamps in the West,
Till the waters covered the pitiful land and the heart
of the world had rest
Had rest with the Rain of the Forty Days, but the Ark
rode safe above,
And the Spirit cried, `New Lamps for Old!' when Noah
loosened the Dove.
And some say now that the Eden-tree had never a root
on earth;
And some say now from an eyeless elf our Father Adam
had birth;
And some say now there was never an Ark and never a
God to save;
And some say now that Man is a God, and some say Man
is a slave;
And some build altars East and West, and some build
North and South;
And some bow down to the Work of the Hand and some to
the Word of the Mouth.
But wheresoever a heart may beat or a hand reach forth
to hold,
The Spirit comes with the coming year, and cries, `New
Lamps for Old!'
And the sons of Adam leave their toil who are cursed
with the Curse of Hope,
And hang the profitless past in a noose of the
thundering belfry's rope,
And tear the branch from the laurel-bush with
feastings manifold,
When the cry goes up to the scornful stars, `New
Lamps! New Lamps for Old!'
Though all the lamps that ever were lit have winked at
the world for years,
The sons of Adam crowd the streets with laughter and
sighs and tears;
For they hold that new, strange lamps shall shine to
guide their feet aright,
And they turn their eyes to the scornful stars and
stretch their arms to the night.
And the Spirit gives them the Lamp of War that burns
at the cannonlip,
As it blazed on the point of Tubal's blade and the
prow of the battleship;
And the Lamp of Love that was Eve's to snatch from
Lilith under the Tree;
And the Lamp of Fame that is old as Strife and dim as
Memory;
And the Lamp of Faith that was won from Job, and of
Shame that was wrung from Cain;
And the Lamp of Youth that was Adam's once, and the
cold blue Lamp of Pain;
And last is the terrible Lamp of Hope that every man
must bear,
Lest he find his peace ere the day of his death by
the light of the Lamp Despair.
We know that the Eden Lamp is lost,—if ever were Eden
made,
And the ink of the Schools in the Lamp of Faith has
sunk a world in the shade;
But ever we look for a light that is new, and ever the
Spirit cries,
`New Lamps for Old!' and we take the lamps, and—behold,
the Spirit lies!
