
“Lazarus” portrays Martha and Mary confronting the terrible estrangement of their brother after he has been brought back from death. Martha, shaken and desperate, tells Mary that Lazarus has said nothing to her and will not even look at her. Though he once loved them and has been restored to them through the Master’s love, he seems less alive than dead: silent, remote, and frighteningly altered. Martha longs for everything to be as it was before, but Mary insists that nothing can return unchanged, especially after what has happened. Mary tries to steady Martha, promising care, warmth, and the help of friends. Yet both sisters feel isolated from Lazarus and from their former home. Martha looks at ordinary life—a familiar flower, the house, the approaching night—and finds it transformed into something strange and terrifying. She believes that the tomb might have been better for Lazarus than this uncertain life, and wonders whether the Master himself truly wished to give Lazarus back. At Martha’s urging, Mary approaches Lazarus, who crouches alone with his face in his hands. She tells him that they love him and are not afraid, though her words reveal her fear. When she takes his hands, she feels him tremble beneath the white robes in which he had emerged. He finally speaks her name and says he heard that the Master wept before he woke. He asks who made the Master come and why the Master should have wept for him. Mary recognizes Lazarus’s voice, but his questions and his lonely, incredulous gaze fill her with dread. Lazarus forgives Mary and Martha because they did not know what they had brought him back to. He asks where the Master is, remembers that men came after him, and says that he must forgive him, though he can learn the burden of what has happened only from the Master himself. Mary tells Lazarus that the Master is alive and will return, hoping that all of them may again be as they were before. Lazarus responds with a weary, tortured smile, repeating the phrase and telling Mary to give her fears, along with Martha’s, to him. Mary asks whether Lazarus is still himself and whether the Master gave him any sign of a new joy. Lazarus says that when he returned, he saw only the Master’s eyes looking deeply into his own, as if the Master knew something that Lazarus could not fully see. Mary says the Master cannot know anything worse than death, but Lazarus answers that there is indeed something worse than death. He warns her that dying while she is still alive offers nothing good, and tells her that to become a child again is to go forward, not backward. As night approaches, Lazarus urges Mary to return with him to Martha and to bring light into the house. Mary presses him for an answer: was there only Nothing where he had been, and if so, what could be worse or better than that? Lazarus says that if all were nothing, neither God nor the Master would have reason to care whether he lived or died; the Master would not have wept, endangered himself, or remained a fugitive. He rejects the idea that the Master serves an eternal ignorance or human futility. Lazarus admits that he has allowed his sisters to fear him and says he needs time to understand his return. He cannot explain what the Master saw in his eyes, how far he has gone, why he is back, or where the old road leads. Yet he knows that he saw the Master’s eyes among the trees and faces, looking into his own for a long time, as if the Master knew.
By Edwin Arlington Robinson · First published 1916 · Genre: Narrative Poetry, Dramatic Monologue, Biblical Poetry · 3,293 words
"NO, Mary, there was nothing - not a word.
Nothing, and always nothing. Go again
Lazarus is listed on Textopian as a poem by Edwin Arlington Robinson, dated 1916 CE.
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verse drama · biblical retelling · Christian themes · New Testament setting · resurrection · faith · doubt · mortality · spiritual conflict · religious drama · philosophical poetry · tragic themes