Poem: “The Celibate” by Herman Melville

Clarel

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American Literature – American Poetry – Herman Melville – Poems by Herman Melville – Clarel
< < < Canto 29: Rolfe and the Palm
Canto 31: The Recoil > > >

Mar Saba

Canto 30: The Celibate

All distant through that afternoon
The student kept, nor might attune
His heart to any steadfast thought
But Ruth–still Ruth, yet strange involved
With every mystery unresolved
In time and fate. In cloud thus caught,

Her image labored like a star
Fitful revealed in midnight heaven
When inland from the sea-coast far
The storm-rack and dark scud are driven.
Words scarce might tell his frame, in sooth:
‘Twas Ruth, and oh, much more than Ruth.

That flank of Kedron still he held
Which is built up; and, passing on–
While now sweet peal of chimings swelled
From belfry old, withdrawn in zone–
A way through cloisters deep he won
And winding vaults that slope to hight;
And heard a voice, espied a light
In twinkle through far passage dim,
And aimed for it, a friendly gleam;
And so came out upon the Tree
Mid-poised, and ledge-built balcony
Inrailed, and one who, leaning o’er
Beneath the Palm–from shore to shore
Of Kedron’s overwhelming walls
And up and down her gap and grave,
A golden cry sent, such as calls
To creatures which the summons know.
And, launching from crag, tower, and cave
Beatified in flight they go:
St. Saba’s doves, in Saba bred.
For wonted bounty they repair,
These convent-pensioners of air;
Fly to their friend; from hand outspread
Or fluttering at his feet are fed.
Some, iridescent round his brow,
Wheel, and with nimbus him endow.
Not fortune’s darling here was seen,
But heaven’s elect. The robe of blue
So sorted with the doves in hue
Prevailing, and clear skies serene
Without a cloud; so pure he showed–
Of stature tall, in aspect bright–

He looked an almoner of God,
Dispenser of the bread of light.
‘Twas not the intellectual air–
Not solely that, though that be fair:
Another order, and more rare–
As high above the Plato mind
As this above the Mammon kind.
In beauty of his port unsealed,
To Clarel part he stood revealed
At first encounter; but the sweet
Small pecking bills and hopping feet
Had previous won; the host urbane,
In courtesy that could not feign,
Mute welcome yielding, and a seat.
It charmed away half Clarel’s care,
And charmed the picture that he saw,
To think how like that turtle pair
Which Mary, to fulfill the law,
From Bethlehem to temple brought
For offering; these Saba doves
Seemed natives–not of Venus’ court
Voluptuous with wanton wreath–
But colonnades where Enoch roves,
Or walks with God, as Scripture saith.
Nor myrtle here, but sole the Palm
Whose vernal fans take rich release

From crowns of foot-stalks golden warm.
O martyr’s scepter, type of peace,
And trouble glorified to calm!
What stillness in the almoner’s face:
Nor Fomalhaut more mild may reign
Mellow above the purple main
Of autumn hills. It was a grace
Beyond medallions ye recall.
The student murmured, filial–
“Father,” and tremulously gleamed,
“Here, sure, is peace.” The father beamed;
The nature of the peace was such
It shunned to venture any touch

Of word. “And yet,” went Clarel on
But faltered there. The saint but glanced.
“Father, if Good, ’tis unenhanced:
No life domestic do ye own
Within these walls: woman I miss.
Like cranes, what years from time’s abyss
Their flight have taken, one by one,
Since Saba founded this retreat:
In cells here many a stifled moan
Of lonely generations gone;
And more shall pine as more shall fleet.”

  With dove on wrist, he, robed, stood hushed,
Mused on the bird, and softly brushed.
Scarce reassured by air so mute,
Anxiously Clarel urged his suit.
The celibate let go the dove;
Cooing, it won the shoulder–lit
Even at his ear, as whispering it.
But he one pace made in remove,
And from a little alcove took
A silver-clasped and vellum book;
And turned a leaf, and gave that page
For answer.–
            Rhyme, old hermit-rhyme
Composed in Decius’ cruel age
By Christian of Thebyean clime:
   ‘Twas David’s son, and he of Dan
With him misloved that fled the bride
And Job whose wife but mocked his ban
Then rose, or in redemption ran–
The rib restored to Adam’s side
And man made whole, as man began.
   And lustral hymns and prayers were here:
Renouncings, yearnings, charges dread
Against our human nature dear:
Worship and wail, which, if misled
Not less might fervor high instill
In hearts which, striving in their fear
Of clay, to bridle, curb or kill;

In the pure desert of the will
Chastised, live the vowed life austere.

The given page the student scanned:
Started–reviewed, nor might withstand.
He turned; the celibate was gone;
Over the gulf he hung alone:
Alone, but for the comment caught
Or dreamed, in face seen far below,
Upturned toward the Palm in thought,
Or else on him–he scarce might know.
Fixed seemed it in assent indeed
Which indexed all? It was the Swede.
Over the Swede, upon the stair–
Long Bethel-stair of ledges brown
Sloping as from the heaven let down–
Apart lay Vine; lowermost there,
Rolfe he discerned; nor less the three,
While of each other unaware,
In one consent of frame might be.
How vaguely, while yet influenced so
By late encounter, and his glance
Rested on Vine, his reveries flow
Recalling that repulsed advance
He knew by Jordan in the wood,

And the enigma unsubdued–
Possessing Ruth, nor less his heart
Aye hungering still, in deeper part
Unsatisfied. Can be a bond
(Thought he) as David sings in strain
That dirges beauteous Jonathan,
Passing the love of woman fond?
And may experience but dull
The longing for it? Can time teach?
Shall all these billows win the lull
And shallow on life’s hardened beach?–

He lingered. The last dove had fled,
And nothing breathed–breathed, waved, or fed,
Along the uppermost sublime

Blank ridge. He wandered as in sleep;
A saffron sun’s last rays were shed
More still, more solemn waxed the time,
Till Apathy upon the steep
Sat one with Silence and the Dead.

< < < Canto 29: Rolfe and the Palm
Canto 31: The Recoil > > >

American Literature – American Poetry – Herman Melville – Poems by Herman Melville – Clarel

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Clarel

Mar Saba

Canto 30: The Celibate

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