Part XI

He bore in mind what had been told him
By the good tutor when he bade farewell,
And generously gave money to him.
He always bore in mind the sound advice
He went to school and earnestly learned.
Within the circle of his school colleagues
He was the moon, his fellows were the stars:
He was admired; no love was shown him, though.

His soul's- sublimity weighed as a stone
Upon the rest, and envy, jealousy
Ne'er ceased their poisoned darts to shoot at him.
"Why treat me thus?" he asked good naturedly
His classmates at the school. "I do not learn
For my own benefit. I learn for you!
Believe, my friends, the knowledge I acquire
Will of good service be, not for myself
But for the public weal. Ah! Could you look
Into this heart of mine, all of you here
Would be attached to me in friendship sweet,
You'd love me then as now I am disliked.
You'd love me then as I love all of you.
Could into the depths of my soul you glance,
You'd clearly see the error of your ways.
You would not clip the branches of the tree
The shade and fruit of which you'll once enjoy.
Ye poor, misguided and shortsighted boys,
A time will come, O God! a time will come
When all of you will love and honor me."

The boys such speeches would with laughter greet,
As ammunition use for new assaults,
Their guns of mockery aimed at his heart.

And he became estranged from all the world,
Morose, austere, a morbid lonely man.
One only friend he had: his solitude.

He lived among the pictures which the world
Regards as phantasies, to him they were
Realities, the future's living forms
Which looked into his high aspiring soul.
There, in his solitude, with zeal he read,
— As is the Koran read by Mussulman
Or pious Jew his good old Bible reads, —
The volume which he over all preferred:
The story of the world. What wondrous book!

To one man 'tis the source of bliss supreme,
While to another one it brings despair.
To one 'tis life and to an another death.
It puts a sword into one's hand and says
"Go forth into the strife, 'tis not in vain,
You'll bring relief to all humanity!"
While to another one it seems to say:
"Discard the sword, thy efforts fruitless are,
The world fore'er will be unfortunate
As it has been these many thousand years."
What did he read? What message came to him
When he had read and read again the book?
What were his thoughts when with his trembling

hands
He closed the book which stirred his very soul?
These were his thoughts: The grape's a tiny fruit,
Which takes a summer ere to ripeness grows.
The earth, too, is a fruit, a mighty fruit, —
And if the grape to ripen needs a year,
How many seasons needs this mighty fruit
Before 'tis ripe! Many a thousand years,
The grapes are ripened by the rays of sun,
And countless milliards of rays must breathe
Their warmth upon the fruit before 'tis sweet.
Rays ripen too the earth, no sun-rays though,
The rays which do this are the souls of men,
Of men with great souls, but these souls are rare.
How then can we expect earth's early growth
Into maturity? I feel- such ray to be.
One of the rays which aids earth's ripening,
The life of such a ray is but a day.
I know that when the day, the longed-for day
Of vintage comes at last I'll be no more,
And not a trace of my work shall be left:
My life howe'er gains strength, my death gains

peace

To feel, to know that I have been a ray.
Arise, my soul; Arise and do thy work.
No time, yea not a moment must be lost
The task is great, time flies and life is short.
What is the goal, the world desires to reach?
'Tis happiness and freedom is the means
By which it is attained. I'll fight for it
As countless thousands have for freedom fought.
As countless thousands fell I too may fall,
And gladly shall I yield my heart's last blood!
Receive me freedom's martyrs in your ranks,
I swear allegiance to you for aye!
Be there one drop of blood within my breast
Which does not beat in truth for freedom's cause;
Let it be spilled if e'en the last it is,
And with its flow my life shall ebb away!"

This was his vow. — Men did not hear it, — true,
But God Almighty did and He inscribed
Into His sacred list of martyr's names
Sylvester's name, the name of our poor boy.