The Buddha came to where the sea Curled silver-white upon the land, And murmurs of infinity Breathed on the sand.

And there lay sh.e.l.ls like rosy foam Borne from the caverns of the deep, Frail playthings drifted from the home Of timeless, tideless sleep.

And on the sand a Fisher stood, Drying his nets that late had seen The silent caverns of the flood And all the wastes between.

The Fisher lingered in his place With countenance of mild surprise, And looked upon the Buddha's face With dumb, uncomprehending eyes.

And Buddha spake: "Thy nets are drawn, Thy boat rocks idle on the sea, Thy day turns westward, and is gone....

Come thou with me."

The Fisher marvelled: "I must toil With nets and sh.e.l.ls among the caves, To win the sea's unwilling spoil From the harsh waves."

And Buddha answered: "Cast no more Thy nets upon the troubled sea, Nor gather sh.e.l.ls along the sh.o.r.e.

Come thou with me.

"Thou drawest sh.e.l.ls and curious flowers From out the blue untrodden caves.

Thou seest the pa.s.sing of the hours.

Thou hearest the clamor of the waves.

"Thou openest the sh.e.l.l where lies The pearl more white than driven spray-- And trackless past thy vision flies Each pa.s.sing day.

"But I will teach thee not to stir The sh.e.l.l nor flower in its sleep.

For thou shalt roam the sepulchre That chasms all their native deep.

"And vain desire, like terror grown Deep in the chambers of thy breast, Shall be from thee forever flown, And thou shalt rest.

"No search for pearls shall blind thy thought, Nor waves, with clamorous harmonies.

But in the silence where is naught Thou shalt behold the One that is.

"And where the days now speed like foam Across thy vision, there shall be For thee a vast eternal home-- An Infinite Sea."

The Fisher looked on Buddha dumb-- Looked deep into that tender gaze-- Those eyes within whose depths had come And gone the sorrows of all days.

He looked uncomprehendingly, And wearily he shook his head; And turned once more to drag the sea, Knowing not what the Buddha said.

FAUST

The cup again! The Holy One is faint.

OLDHAM

He speaks a miracle!...

THE HOLY ONE

And then I knew That pilgrim as a saint, whose lips revealed The glory of the Buddha. I beheld My life one poisoned network of desire And fleshly longing and pain-sowing hope-- The evil self seeking its happiness And shaping horror. And I cast away Myself, and cried: What am I but a dream, A wave within the sea, a pa.s.sing cloud Upon the radiance of eternity?

All yearning will I slay, and slay therewith The sorrow that succeeds it!...

So the l.u.s.t Of life pa.s.sed from me; so the narrow I Merged in the infinite, from hope set free-- Heritor of Nirvana's holy calm, Wherein the voices of the heart's unrest Are stifled, and the soul expands to clasp Joy, nothingness, eternity and peace.

FAUST

Peace.... Peace.... Like bells from upland monasteries You speak the word that summons us. But where In peace is room for all once-towering hopes-- Nay, even for the wrecked and prostrate monoliths That mark those fallen pylons?

THE HOLY ONE

Let the earth, Ravenous of her young, these too devour, And dust and nothingness engulf their shapes-- Vain burdens, bitter monuments.

FAUST

And where Shall I find deeps wherein without a sound I can extinguish my wild will that leaps Flamelike to meet the stars?

THE HOLY ONE

In that deep sea Hid in thy breast. Seek thou that tide of calm, For it lies there awaiting.

FAUST

Can it be That life's whole burden may be cast aside And named as nothing, and its memory Perish forever? In the summer nights, Comes there no stealing ecstasy to stir The old forgotten longings?

THE HOLY ONE

In the night And in the day, one ecstasy abides Ceaselessly with the heart that has put off Desire--one ecstasy of final calm.

All other voices seem harsh clamorings.

OLDHAM

Ah, Holy One, lead me thy way of peace!

For I am weary of my heart's vain wars.

My life is as a desert, where desire Corrodes me ceaselessly. Instruct my soul To follow thee home to the gulfs of rest!

That, in renouncement of this bitter will, It find at last deliverance it has sought.

THE HOLY ONE

My son, thou hast spoken; thou shalt come in time To that abode. The Buddha's light shall guide Both thee and me, poor seekers. Bide with me; And what I know, that shalt thou freely know, And my peace shall be thy peace....

SATAN

Faust, the gates Admit one form already.

FAUST

Ah, the gates Are pearl and silver.... Would that there were s.p.a.ce Within them for such fevered heart as mine-- That with the restlessness of stormy winds Beats on its barriers!

THE HOLY ONE

There is room for all Whose souls renounce the world and life and hope To gain that soundless silence.