Spirits in Bondage Read online

  To gaze upon the misty sea beneath,

  Or on the neighbouring wood,

  —That little wood of hazel and tall pine

  And youngling fir, where oft we have loved to see

  The level beams of early morning shine

  Freshly from tree to tree.

  Through the denser wood there’s many a pool

  Of deep and night-born shadow lingers yet

  Where the new-wakened flowers are damp and cool

  And the long grass is wet.

  In the sweet heather long I rested there

  Looking upon the dappled, early sky,

  When suddenly, from out the shining air

  A god came flashing by.

  Swift, naked, eager, pitilessly fair,

  With a live crown of birds about his head,

  Singing and fluttering, and his fiery hair,

  Far out behind him spread,

  Streamed like a rippling torch upon the breeze

  Of his own glorious swiftness: in the grass

  He bruised no feathery stalk, and through the trees

  I saw his whiteness pass.

  But when I followed him beyond the wood,

  Lo! He was changed into a solemn bull

  That there upon the open pasture stood

  And browsed his lazy full.

  XXXIV

  THE ROADS

  I stand on the windy uplands among the hills of Down

  With all the world spread out beneath, meadow and sea and town,

  And ploughlands on the far-off hills that glow with friendly brown.

  And ever across the rolling land to the far horizon line,

  Where the blue hills border the misty west, I see the white roads twine,

  The rare roads and the fair roads that call this heart of mine.

  I see them dip in the valleys and vanish and rise and bend

  From shadowy dell to windswept fell, and still to the West they wend,

  And over the cold blue ridge at last to the great world’s uttermost end.

  And the call of the roads is upon me, a desire in my spirit has grown

  To wander forth in the highways, ’twixt earth and sky alone,

  And seek for the lands no foot has trod and the seas no sail has known:

  For the lands to the west of the evening and east of the morning’s birth,

  Where the gods unseen in their valleys green are glad at the ends of the earth

  And fear no morrow to bring them sorrow, nor night to quench their mirth.

  XXXV

  HESPERUS

  Through the starry hollow

  Of the summer night

  I would follow, follow

  Hesperus the bright,

  To seek beyond the western wave

  His garden of delight.

  Hesperus the fairest

  Of all gods that are,

  Peace and dreams thou bearest

  In thy shadowy car,

  And often in my evening walks

  I’ve blessed thee from afar.

  Stars without number,

  Dust the noon of night,

  Thou the early slumber

  And the still delight

  Of the gentle twilit hours

  Rulest in thy right.

  When the pale skies shiver,

  Seeing night is done,

  Past the ocean-river,

  Lightly thou dost run,

  To look for pleasant, sleepy lands,

  That never fear the sun.

  Where, beyond the waters

  Of the outer sea,

  Thy triple crown of daughters

  That guards the golden tree

  Sing out across the lonely tide

  A welcome home to thee.

  And while the old, old dragon

  For joy lifts up his head,

  They bring thee forth a flagon

  Of nectar foaming red,

  And underneath the drowsy trees

  Of poppies strew thy bed.

  Ah! that I could follow

  In thy footsteps bright,

  Through the starry hollow

  Of the summer night,

  Sloping down the western ways

  To find my heart’s delight!

  XXXVI

  THE STAR BATH

  A place uplifted towards the midnight sky

  Far, far away among the mountains old,

  A treeless waste of rocks and freezing cold,

  Where the dead, cheerless moon rode neighbouring by—

  And in the midst a silent tarn there lay,

  A narrow pool, cold as the tide that flows

  Where monstrous bergs beyond Varanger stray,

  Rising from sunless depths that no man knows;

  Thither as clustering fireflies have I seen

  At fixed seasons all the stars come down

  To wash in that cold wave their brightness clean

  And win the special fire wherewith they crown

  The wintry heavens in frost. Even as a flock

  Of falling birds, down to the pool they came.

  I saw them and I heard the icy shock

  Of stars engulfed with hissing of faint flame—

  Ages ago before the birth of men

  Or earliest beast. Yet I was still the same

  That now remember, knowing not where or when.

  XXXVII

  TU NE QUAESIERIS

  For all the lore of Lodge and Myers

  I cannot heal my torn desires,

  Nor hope for all that man can speer

  To make the riddling earth grow clear.

  Though it were sure and proven well

  That I shall prosper, as they tell,

  In fields beneath a different sun

  By shores where other oceans run,

  When this live body that was I

  Lies hidden from the cheerful sky,

  Yet what were endless lives to me

  If still my narrow self I be

  And hope and fail and struggle still,

  And break my will against God’s will,

  To play for stakes of pleasure and pain

  And hope and fail and hope again,

  Deluded, thwarted, striving elf

  That through the window of my self

  As through a dark glass scarce can see

  A warped and masked reality?

  But when this searching thought of mine

  Is mingled in the large Divine,

  And laughter that was in my mouth

  Runs through the breezes of the South,

  When glory I have built in dreams

  Along some fiery sunset gleams,

  And my dead sin and foolishness

  Grow one with Nature’s whole distress,

  To perfect being I shall win,

  And where I end will Life begin.

  XXXVIII

  LULLABY

  Lullaby! Lullaby!

  There’s a tower strong and high

  Built of oak and brick and stone,

  Stands before a wood alone.

  The doors are of the oak so brown

  As any ale in Oxford town,

  The walls are builded warm and thick

  Of the old red Roman brick,

  The good grey stone is over all

  In arch and floor of the tower tall.

  And maidens three are living there

  All in the upper chamber fair,

  Hung with silver, hung with pall,

  And stories painted on the wall.

  And softly goes the whirring loom

  In my ladies’ upper room,

  For they shall spin both night and day

  Until the stars do pass away.

  But every night at evening

  The window open wide they fling,

  And one of them says a word they know

  And out as three white swans they go,

  And the murmuring of the woods is drowned

  In the soft wings’ whirring sound,

  As they go flying round, around,

  Singing in swans’ voices high

  A lonely, lovely lullaby.

  XXXIX

  WORLD’S DESIRE

  Love, there is a castle built in a country desolate,

  On a rock above a forest where the trees are grim and great,

  Blasted with the lightning sharp—giant boulders strewn between,

  And the mountains rise above, and the cold ravine

  Echoes to the crushing roar and thunder of a mighty river

  Raging down a cataract. Very tower and forest quiver

  And the grey wolves are afraid and the call of birds is drowned,

  And the thought and speech of man in the boiling water’s sound.

  But upon the further side of the barren, sharp ravine

  With the sunlight on its turrets is the castle seen,

  Calm and very wonderful, white above the green

  Of the wet and waving forest, slanted all away,

  Because the driving Northern wind will not rest by night or day.

  Yet the towers are sure above, very mighty is the stead,

  The gates are made of ivory, the roofs of copper red.

  Round and round the warders grave walk upon the walls for ever

  And the wakeful dragons couch in the ports of ivory,

  Nothing is can trouble it, hate of the gods nor man’s endeavour,

  And it shall be a resting-place, dear heart, for you and me.

  Through the wet and waving forest with an age-old sorrow laden

  Singing of the world’s regret wanders wild the faerie maiden,

  Through the thistle and the brier, through the tangles of the thorn,

  Till her eyes be dim with weeping and her homeless feet are torn.

  Often to the castle gate up she looks with vain endeavour,

  For her soulless loveliness to the castle winneth never.

  But within the sacred court, hidden high upon the mountain,

  Wandering in the castle gardens lovely folk enough there be,

  Breathing in another air, drinking of a purer fountain

  And among that folk, beloved, there’s a place for you and me.

  XL

  DEATH IN BATTLE

  Open the gates for me,

  Open the gates of the peaceful castle, rosy in the West,

  In the sweet dim Isle of Apples over the wide sea’s breast,

  Open the gates for me!

  Sorely pressed have I been

  And driven and hurt beyond bearing this summer day,

  But the heat and the pain together suddenly fall away,

  All’s cool and green.

  But a moment agone,

  Among men cursing in fight and toiling, blinded I fought,

  But the labour passed on a sudden even as a passing thought,

  And now-alone!

  Ah, to be ever alone,

  In flowery valleys among the mountains and silent wastes untrod,

  In the dewy upland places, in the garden of God,

  This would atone!

  I shall not see

  The brutal, crowded faces around me, that in their toil have grown

  Into the faces of devils—yea, even as my own—

  When I find thee,

  O Country of Dreams!

  Beyond the tide of the ocean, hidden and sunk away,

  Out of the sound of battles, near to the end of day,

  Full of dim woods and streams.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  CLIVE STAPLES LEWIS (1898–1963) was one of the intellectual giants of the twentieth century and arguably one of the most influential writers of his day. He was a Fellow and Tutor in English Literature at Oxford University until 1954, when he was unanimously elected to the Chair of Medieval and Renaissance Literature at Cambridge University, a position he held until his retirement. He wrote more than thirty books, allowing him to reach a vast audience, and his works continue to attract thousands of new readers every year. His most distinguished and popular accomplishments include Mere Christianity, Out of the Silent Planet, The Great Divorce, The Screwtape Letters, and the universally acknowledged classics The Chronicles of Narnia. To date, the Narnia books have sold over 100 million copies and have been transformed into three major motion pictures.

  Discover great authors, exclusive offers, and more at hc.com.

  ALSO BY C. S. LEWIS

  A Grief Observed

  George MacDonald: An Anthology

  Mere Christianity

  Miracles

  The Abolition of Man

  The Great Divorce

  The Problem of Pain

  The Screwtape Letters (with “Screwtape Proposes a Toast”)

  The Weight of Glory

  The Four Loves

  Till We Have Faces

  Surprised by Joy: The Shape of My Early Life

  Reflections on the Psalms

  Letters to Malcolm, Chiefly on Prayer

  The Personal Heresy

  The World’s Last Night: And Other Essays

  Poems

  The Dark Tower: And Other Stories

  Of Other Worlds: Essays and Stories

  Narrative Poems

  A Mind Awake: An Anthology of C. S. Lewis

  Letters of C. S. Lewis

  All My Road Before Me

  The Business of Heaven: Daily Readings from C. S. Lewis

  Present Concerns: Journalistic Essays

  On Stories: And Other Essays on Literature

  ALSO AVAILABLE FROM HARPERCOLLINS

  The Chronicles of Narnia

  The Magician’s Nephew

  The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe

  The Horse and His Boy

  Prince Caspian

  The Voyage of the Dawn Treader

  The Silver Chair

  The Last Battle

  CREDITS

  Cover design and illustration: Kimberly Glyder

  COPYRIGHT

  SPIRITS IN BONDAGE. Copyright © 1919 by C. S. Lewis Pte. Ltd. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

  Originally published in 1919 by Heinemann. Reprinted in 1984 by Harcourt Brace Jovanovich.

  EPub Edition February 2017 ISBN 9780062565600

  * * *

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Names: Lewis, C. S. (Clive Staples), 1898-1963, author.

  Title: Spirits in bondage : a cycle of lyrics / C. S. Lewis.

  Description: New York : HarperOne, [2017]

  Identifiers: LCCN 2016030651 | ISBN 9780062643612 (softcover) | ISBN 9780062565600 (ebook)

  Subjects: | BISAC: POETRY / Inspirational & Religious. | RELIGION / Christianity / General. | RELIGION / Spirituality.

  Classification: LCC PR6023.E926 A6 2017c | DDC 821/.912—dc23 LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2016030651

  * * *

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  C. S. Lewis, Spirits in Bondage

 

 

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