Obrazy na stronie
PDF
ePub
[blocks in formation]

And stabled in our homes,-until the chain Stifled the captive's cry, and to abide

That blasting curse men had no shame--all vied

In evil, slave and despot; fear with lust, Strange fellowship through mutual hate had tied,

Like two dark serpents tangled in the dust, Which on the paths of men their mingling poison thrust.

V.

Earth, our bright home, its mountains and its waters,

And the ætherial shapes which are suspended Over its green expanse, and those fair daughters,

The clouds, of Sun and Ocean, who have blended

The colours of the air since first extended It cradled the young world, none wandered forth

To see or feel: a darkness had descended On every heart: the light which shows its worth

Must among gentle thoughts and fearless take its birth.

VI.

This vital world, this home of happy spirits, Was as a dungeon to my blasted kind,

All that despair from murdered hope inherits They sought, and, in their helpless misery blind,

A deeper prison and heavier chains did find, And stronger tyrants:—a dark gulph before, The realm of a stern Ruler, yawned; behind, Terror and Time conflicting drove, and bore On their tempestuous flood the shrieking wretch from shore.

VII.

Out of that Ocean's wrecks had Guilt and

Woe

Framed a dark dwelling for their homeless thought,

And, starting at the ghosts which to and fro Glide o'er its dim and gloomy strand, had brought

The worship thence which they each other taught.

Well might men loathe their life, well might they turn

Even to the ills again from which they sought Such refuge after death!-well might they

learn

To gaze on this fair world with hopeless unconcern!

VIII.

For they all pined in bondage: body and soul,
Tyrant and slave, victim and torturer, bent
Before one Power, to which supreme control
Over their will, by their own weakness lent,
Made all its many names omnipotent;
All symbols of things evil, all divine;

And hymns of blood or mockery, which rent The air from all its fanes, did intertwine Imposture's impious toils round each discordant shrine.

IX.

I heard, as all have heard, life's various story, And in no careless heart transcribed the tale; But, from the sneers of men who had grown hoary

In shame and scorn, from groans of crowds made pale

By famine, from a mother's desolate wail O'er her polluted child, from innocent blood Poured on the earth, and brows anxious and pale

With the heart's warfare, did I gather food To feed my many thoughts-a tameless multitude!

X.

I wandered through the wrecks of days departed

Far by the desolated shore, when even
O'er the still sea and jaggèd islets darted
The light of moonrise; in the northern
heaven,

Among the clouds near the horizon driven, The mountains lay beneath one planet pale; Around me, broken tombs and columns riven Looked vast in twilight, and the sorrowing gale Waked in those ruins grey its everlasting wail!

XI.

I knew not who had framed these wonders

then, Nor had I heard the story of their deeds; But dwellings of a race of mightier men, And monuments of less ungentle creeds, Tell their own tale to him who wisely heeds The language which they speak; and now,

to me

The moonlight making pale the blooming weeds,

The bright stars shining in the breathless sea, Interpreted those scrolls of mortal mystery.

XII.

Such man has been, and such may yet become!

Aye, wiser, greater, gentler, even than they
Who on the fragments of yon shattered dome
Have stamped the sign of power-I felt the
sway

Of the vast stream of ages bear away
My floating thoughts-my heart beat loud

and fast

Even as a storm let loose beneath the ray Of the still moon, my spirit onward passed Beneath truth's steady beams upon its tumult cast.

XIII.

It shall be thus no more! too long, too long, Sons of the glorious dead, have ye lain bound In darkness and in ruin.-Hope is strong, Justice and Truth their winged child have found

Awake! arise! until the mighty sound Of your career shall scatter in its gust The thrones of the oppressor, and the ground Hide the last altar's unregarded dust, Whose Idol has so long betrayed your impious

trust.

XIV.

It must be so—
-I will arise and waken
The multitude, and like a sulphurous hill,
Which on a sudden from its snows has shaken

The swoon of ages, it shall burst and fill The world with cleansing fire: it must, it will

It may not be restrained!-and who shall stand

Amid the rocking earthquake steadfast still, But Laon? on high Freedom's desert land A tower whose marble walls the leaguèd storms withstand!

XV.

One summer night, in commune with the hope
Thus deeply fed, amid those ruins grey
I watched, beneath the dark sky's starry cope;
And ever from that hour upon me lay
The burthen of this hope, and night or day,
In vision or in dream, clove to my breast:
Among mankind, or when gone far away
To the lone shores and mountains, 'twas a
guest

Which followed where I fled, and watched when
I did rest.

XVI.

These hopes found words through which my spirit sought

To weave a bondage of such sympathy,
As might create some response to the thought
Which ruled me now-and as the vapours lie
Bright in the out-spread morning's radiancy,
So were these thoughts invested with the light
Of language and all bosoms made reply
On which its lustre streamed, whene'er it
might

:

Through darkness wide and deep those trancèd spirits smite.

« PoprzedniaDalej »