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John Marr and Other Poems

Chapter 37: HERBA SANTA
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About This Book

The collection presents a range of lyric poems and longer pieces that move between maritime imagery, elegiac reflection, and stark battle verse. Many poems evoke oceanic scenes and shipboard fellowship while others confront the violence, aftermath, and moral uncertainty of armed conflict. Interwoven are philosophical meditations and classical or literary allusions that shift tone from colloquial anecdote to austere contemplation. Selections include short lyrics, narrative fragments, extracts from larger verse cycles, and a prose supplement that clarifies the war material. A persistent, individual voice binds the pieces, balancing rough seafaring idiom with earnest poetic inquiry.

HERBA SANTA

I

After long wars when comes release
Not olive wands proclaiming peace
    Can import dearer share
Than stems of Herba Santa hazed
    In autumn’s Indian air.
Of moods they breathe that care disarm,
They pledge us lenitive and calm.

II

Shall code or creed a lure afford
To win all selves to Love’s accord?
When Love ordained a supper divine
    For the wide world of man,
What bickerings o’er his gracious wine!
    Then strange new feuds began.

Effectual more in lowlier way,
    Pacific Herb, thy sensuous plea
The bristling clans of Adam sway
    At least to fellowship in thee!
Before thine altar tribal flags are furled,
Fain wouldst thou make one hearthstone of the world.

III

To scythe, to sceptre, pen and hod—
    Yea, sodden laborers dumb;
To brains overplied, to feet that plod,
In solace of the Truce of God
    The Calumet has come!

IV

Ah for the world ere Raleigh’s find
    Never that knew this suasive balm
That helps when Gilead’s fails to heal,
    Helps by an interserted charm.

Insinuous thou that through the nerve
    Windest the soul, and so canst win
Some from repinings, some from sin,
    The Church’s aim thou dost subserve.

The ruffled fag fordone with care
    And brooding, God would ease this pain:
Him soothest thou and smoothest down
    Till some content return again.

Even ruffians feel thy influence breed
    Saint Martin’s summer in the mind,
They feel this last evangel plead,
As did the first, apart from creed,
    Be peaceful, man—be kind!

V

Rejected once on higher plain,
O Love supreme, to come again
    Can this be thine?
Again to come, and win us too
    In likeness of a weed
That as a god didst vainly woo,
    As man more vainly bleed?

VI

Forbear, my soul! and in thine Eastern chamber
    Rehearse the dream that brings the long release:
Through jasmine sweet and talismanic amber
    Inhaling Herba Santa in the passive Pipe of Peace.