Deaf American Poetry: An Anthology

Scenes in the History of the Deaf and Dumb

Angeline Fuller Fischer 57 Scenes in the History of the Deaf and Dumb Scene First. Behold a miracle! a bush on fire, Burning intensely, burning unconsumed, Note how the flames rise higher and yet higher, And all the air around is high perfumed, With odors richer far than any flower Exhales at day’s first dawning, when the Sun Drinks up the dew-drops and goes forth in power, His daily journey leisurely to run, To carry from the land of song and star Brightness and warmth into the west afar. Note further that each wave of perfumed light Shimmers and shines as tho’ the sun and moon And all the stars of heaven, most fair and bright With all their force of midnight and of noon, Were multiplied ten thousand thousand times, And then ten thousand times ten thousand more, Until the number aggregates or climbs Past computation’s limit, mete or score; Aye, multiplied so brightly that it seems Earth’s every jewel in one casket gleams. Well may the air be sweet, well may it shine With wondrous radiance, such as was not seen Ever before, for power we know Divine Has touched that bush, erewhile so low, so mean, A common thing, from which each passing brute Might browse at pleasure, or by well-aimed blow Break, nevermore to leaf or bloom or fruit, Or thrive beneath the sun’s most genial glow, A bush to be, by any strong man doomed, Uprooted, or by common fire consumed. Angeline Fuller Fischer 58 And see, near this vast pile of earth and rock Known as Mount Horeb, Moses wends his way Intent upon the pasture of his flock, Intent on keeping evil beast at bay, Thinking, perchance, of Egypt and the sin Of sore oppression he had witnessed there, Until his soul revolted, and from kin He fled, unable more to see or bear, Fled all alone, in horror and in grief, To find with strangers comfort and relief. Behold his wonder when at first the sight So wholly marv’lous, so paralled, That it would fill a common soul with fright, And even him in speechless wonder held For a brief while, then shaking off all fear, Of harm and danger, he right bravely cries, “Not burnt, strange, very strange, I will draw near To see this fire which flickers not nor dies, But blazes on, surpassing everything Of which historians talk or poets sing.” But harken now, for scarcely has his word Of firm decision echoed on the air, Or his broad breast, within so deeply stirred, Drawn breath, more of the thrilling sight to bear, When from the bush there emanates a sound, A voice that thrills him to his being’s core, And bends his soul in homage more profound Than any voice had ever done before, As it commanded, “Nay, do not draw near, Take off thy shoes, the ground is holy here.” Having responded promptly to his name In the brave words of Abraham, “Here am I,” And bared his feet before the curious flame Which while it rose so brilliantly, so high, Angeline Fuller Fischer 59 Made the whole plain a consecrated place Henceforth, forevermore, while time endures, A spot historian’s pen would sometimes trace, And venturous trav’lers visit in their tours, A spot to prove till earth and time shall end That our Creator also is our friend. Fitting it was the astonished man should hide His face in awe and listen in a maze Of humble, solemn joy that he, denied Awhile the right to walk earth’s peopled ways, Might in the lonely desert meet his Lord, And learn from His own lips that He gave heed To all His children’s wrongs, and would accord Judgment to their oppressors, and would lead Them forth in triumph to a better land, Where peace and plenty smile on every hand. ’Twas further fitting that he should reply: “I hear Thy words, and I would gladly go Unto Thy people, who in anguish cry, Yea, I to them Thy promises would show, But who am I, to that I should be so blest, So honored? Thou hast others fitter far To lead Thy children to their longed-for rest, Send them to be a guide, a morning star, To those to whom Thy pledge was long since given Of Thy best favors granted this side...