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Van Dyke, Henry, 1852-1933

"The Poems of Henry Van Dyke"

]
NAAMAN: [Slowly passing his hand over his eyes, and looking up.]
Am I alone
With thee, inexorable one, whose pride
Offended takes this horrible revenge?
I must submit my mortal flesh to thee,
Almighty, but I will not call thee god!
Yet thou hast found the way to wound my soul
Most deeply through the flesh; and I must find
The way to let my wounded soul escape!
[Drawing his sword.]
Come, my last friend, thou art more merciful
Than Rimmon. Why should I endure the doom
He sends me? Irretrievably cut off
From all dear intercourse of human love,
From all the tender touch of human hands,
From all brave comradeship with brother-men,
With eyes that see no faces through this dark,
With ears that hear all voices far away,
Why should I cling to misery, and grope
My long, long way from pain to pain, alone?
RUAHMAH: [At his feet.]
Nay, not alone, dear lord, for I am here;
And I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee!
NAAMAN:
What voice is that? The silence of my tomb
Is broken by a ray of music,--whose?
RUAHMAH: [Rising.


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