Habeas Corpus (wiersz klasyka)

Habeas Corpus

 My body, eh? Friend Death, how now?

 Why all this tedious pomp of writ?

 Thou hast reclaimed it sure and slow

 For half a century bit by bit.

 In faith thou knowest more to-day

 Than I do, where it can be found!

 This shrivelled lump of suffering clay,

 To which I am now chained and bound,

 Has not of kith or kin a trace

 To the good body once I bore;

 Look at this shrunken, ghastly face:

 Didst ever see that face before?

 Ah, well, friend Death, good friend thou art;

 Thy only fault thy lagging gait,

 Mistaken pity in thy heart

 For timorous ones that bid thee wait.

 Do quickly all thou hast to do,

 Nor I nor mine will hindrance make;

 I shall be free when thou art through;

 I grudge thee nought that thou must take!

 Stay! I have lied; I grudge thee one,

 Yes, two I grudge thee at this last,--

 Two members which have faithful done

 My will and bidding in the past.

 I grudge thee this right hand of mine;

 I grudge thee this quick-beating heart;

 They never gave me coward sign,

 Nor played me once the traitor`s part.

 I see now why in olden days

 Men in barbaric love or hate

 Nailed enemies` hands at wild crossways,

 Shrined leaders` hearts in costly state:

 The symbol, sign and instrument

 Of each soul`s purpose, passion, strife,

 Of fires in which are poured and spent

 Their all of love, their all of life.

 O feeble, mighty human hand!

 O fragile, dauntless human heart!

 The universe holds nothing planned

 With such sublime, transcendent art!

 Yes, Death, I own I grudge thee mine

 Poor little hand, so feeble now;

 Its wrinkled palm, its altered line,

 Its veins so pallid and so slow --

* * * (Unfinished here.)

 Ah, well, friend Death, good friend thou art;

 I shall be free when thou art through.

 Take all there is -- take hand and heart;

 There must be somewhere work to do.