Blind Caravan, The Analysis

1I am a slave, both dumb and blind,
2Upon a journey dread;
3The iron hills lie far behind,
4The seas of mist ahead.

5Amid a mighty caravan
6I toil a sombre track,
7The strangest road since time began,
8Where no foot turneth back.

9Here rosy youth at morning's prime
10And weary man at noon
11Are crooked shapes at eventime
12Beneath the haggard moon.

13Faint elfin songs from out the past
14Of some lost sunset land
15Haunt this grim pageant drifting, vast,
16Across the trackless sand.

17And often for some nightward wind
18We stay a space and hark,
19Then leave the sunset lands behind,
20And plunge into the dark.

21Somewhere, somewhere, far on in front,
22There strides a lonely man
23Who is all strength, who bears the brunt,
24The battle and the ban.

25I know not of his face or form,
26His voice or battle-scars,
27Or how he fronts the haunted storm
28Beneath the wintry stars;

29I know not of his wisdom great
30That leads this sightless host
31Beyond the barren hills of fate
32Unto some kindlier coast.

33But often 'mid the eerie black
34Through this sad caravan
35A strange, sweet thrill is whispered back,
36Borne on from man to man.

37A strange, glad joy that fills the night
38Like some far marriage horn,
39Till every heart is filled with light
40Of some belated morn.

41The way is long, and rough the road,
42And bitter the night, and dread,
43And each poor slave is but a goad
44To lash the one ahead.

45Evil the foes that lie in wait
46To slay us in the pass,
47Bloody the slaughter at the gate,
48And bleak the wild morass;

49And I am but a shriveled thing
50Beneath the midnight sky;
51A wasted, wan remembering
52Of days long wandered by.

53And yet I lift my sightless face
54Toward the eerie light,
55And tread the lonely way we trace
56Across the haunted night.

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