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Traitor to all existence, to all life!
Soul-suicide! determined foe of being!
Intended murderer of God, most High!
Strange road, most strange! to seek for happiness!
Hell's mad-houses are full of such, too fierce,
Too furiously insane, and desperate,
To range unbound 'mong evil spirits damned.
Fertile was earth in many things, not least
In fools, who mercy both and judgment scorned,
Scorned love, experience scorned, and onward
rushed

To swift destruction, giving all reproof,

And all instruction, to the winds; and much
Of both they had, and much despised of both.
Wisdom took up her harp, and stood in place
Of frequent concourse, stood in every gate,
By every way, and walked in every street;
And, lifting up her voice, proclaimed: "Be wise,
Ye fools! be of an understanding heart;
Forsake the wicked, come not near his house,
Pass by, make haste, depart and turn away.
Me follow, me, whose ways are pleasantness,
Whose paths are peace, whose end is perfect joy."
The Seasons came and went, and went and came,
To teach men gratitude; and as they passed,
Gave warning of the lapse of Time, that else
Had stolen unheeded by. The gentle Flowers,
Retired, and, stooping o'er the wilderness,
Talked of humility, and peace, and love.
The Dews came down unseen at evening-tide,
And silently their bounties shed, to teach
Mankind unostentatious charity.
With arm in arm the forest rose on high,
And lesson gave of brotherly regard.
And, on the rugged mountain-brow exposed,
Bearing the blast alone, the ancient oak
Stood, lifting high his mighty arm, and still
To courage in distress exhorted loud.
The flocks, the herds, the birds, the streams,
breeze,

Attuned the heart to melody and love.

A tongue, that ever said, Man! think of God!
Think of thyself! think of eternity!
Fear God, the thunders said, Fear God, the waves.
Fear God, the lightning of the storm replied.
Fear God, deep loudly answered back to deep:
And, in the temples of the Holy One,
Messiah's messengers, the faithful few,
Faithful 'mong many false, the Bible opened,
And cried, Repent! repent ye sons of men!
Believe, be saved; and reasoned awfully
Of temperance, righteousness, and judgment soon
To come, of ever-during life and death :
And chosen bards from age to age awoke
The sacred lyre, and full on Folly's ear,
Numbers of righteous indignation poured:
And God, omnipotent, when mercy failed,
Made bare his holy arm, and with the stroke
Of vengeance smote; the fountains of the deep
Broke up, heaven's windows opened, and sent on

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His dart, and threatened to make repentance vain,-
Incredible assertion! men rushed on
Determinedly to ruin; shut their ears,
Their eyes, to all advice, to all reproof;
O'er mercy and o'er judgment, downward rushed
To misery; and,—most incredible

Of all!-to misery rushed along the way
Of disappointment and remorse, where still
At every step, adders, in pleasure's form,
the Stung mortally; and Joys,-whose bloomy cheeks
Seemed glowing high with immortality,
Whose bosoms prophesied superfluous bliss,—
While in the arms received, and locked in close
And riotous embrace, turned pale, and cold,
And died, and smelled of putrefaction rank;
Turned, in the very moment of delight,
A loathsome, heavy corpse, that with the clear
And hollow eyes of death, stared horribly.

Mercy stood in the cloud, with eye that wept
Essential love; and, from her glorious bow,
Bending to kiss the earth in token of peace,
With her own lips, her gracious lips, which God
Of sweetest accent made, she whispered still,
She whispered to Revenge, Forgive, forgive.
The Sun, rejoicing round the earth, announced
Daily the wisdom, power, and love of God.
The Moon awoke, and from her maiden face,
Shedding her cloudy locks, looked meekly forth,
And with her virgin Stars walked in the heavens,
Walked nightly there, conversing as she walked,
Of purity, and holiness, and God.

In dreams and visions, sleep instructed much.
Day uttered speech to day, and night to night
Taught knowledge. Silence had a tongue; the
grave,

The darkness, and the lonely waste, had cach

All tribes, all generations of the earth,
Thus wantonly to ruin drove alike.
We heard indeed of gold and silver days,
And of primeval innocence unstained:
A pagan tale! but by baptized bards,
Philosophers, and statesmen, who were still
Held wise and cunning men, talked of so much,
That most believed it so, and asked not why.

The pair, the family first made, were ill;
And for their great peculiar sin, incurred
The Curse, and left it due to all their race;
And bold example gave of every crime,

Hade, murder, unbelief, reproach, revenge.
A time, 'tis true, there came, of which thou soon
Shalt hear, the Sabbath Day, the Jubilee
Of earth, when righteousness and peace prevailed.
This time except, who writes the history

Of men, and writes it true, must write them bad;
Who reads, must read of violence and blood.
The man, who could the story of one day
Peruse, the wrongs, oppressions, cruelties,
Deceits, and perjuries, and vanities,
Rewarded worthlessness, rejected worth,
Assassinations, robberies, thefts, and wars,
Disastrous accidents, life thrown away,
Divinity insulted, Heaven despised,
Religion scorned,--and not been sick at night,
And sad, had gathered greater store of mirth,
Than ever wise man in the world could find.

One cause of folly, one especial cause, Was this: Few knew what wisdom was, though well

Defined in God's own words, and printed large, On heaven and earth in characters of light, And sounded in the ear by every wind.

Wisdom is humble, said the voice of God.
'Tis proud, the world replied. Wisdom, said God,
Forgives, forbears, and suffers, not for fear
Of man, but God. Wisdom revenges, said
The world, is quick and deadly of resentment,
Thrusts at the very shadow of affront,
And hastes, by death, to wipe its honour clean.
Wisdom, said God, loves enemies, entreats,
Solicits, begs for peace. Wisdom, replied
The world, hates enemies, will not ask peace,
Conditions spurns, and triumphs in their fall.
Wisdom mistrusts itself, and leans on Heaven,
Said God. It trusts and leans upon itself,
The world replied. Wisdom retires, said God,
And counts it bravery to bear reproach,
And shame, and lowly poverty, upright;
And weeps with all who have just cause to weep.
Wisdom, replied the world, struts forth to gaze,
Treads the broad stage of life with clamorous foot,
Attracts all praises, counts it bravery
Alone to wield the sword, and rush on death;
And never weeps, but for its own disgrace.
Wisdom, said God, is highest, when it stoops
Lowest before the Holy Throne ; throws down
Its crown, abased; forgets itself, admires,
And breathes adoring praise. There Wisdom
stoops,

Indeed, the world replied, there stoops, because
It must, but stoops with dignity; and thinks
And meditates the while of inward worth.

Thus did Almighty God, and thus the world,
Wisdom define: and most the world believed,
And boldly called the truth of God a lie.
Hence, he that to the worldly wisdom shaped
His character, became the favourite
Of men, was honourable termed, a man

Of spirit, noble, glorious, lofty soul !
And as he crossed the earth in chase of dreams,
Received prodigious shouts of warm applause.
Hence, who to godly wisdom framed his life,
Was counted mean, and spiritless, and vile;
And as he walked obscurely in the path
Which led to heaven, fools hissed with serpent
tongue,

And poured contempt upon his holy head,
And poured contempt on all who praised his name.
But false as this account of wisdom was,
The world's I mean, it was its best, the creed
Of sober, grave, and philosophic men,
With much research and cogitation framed,
Of men, who with the vulgar scorned to sit.

The popular belief seemed rather worse,
When heard replying to the voice of truth.

The wise man, said the Bible, walks with God; Surveys, far on, the endless line of life; Values his soul, thinks of eternity, Both worlds considers, and provides for both; With reason's eye his passions guards; abstains From evil, lives on hope, on hope, the fruit Of faith; looks upward, purifies his soul, Expands his wings, and mounts into the sky; Passes the sun, and gains his father's house, And drinks with angels from the fount of bliss. The multitude aloud replied,-replied By practice, for they were not bookish men, Nor apt to form their principles in words,— The wise man, first of all, eradicates, As much as possible, from out his mind, All thought of death, God, and eternity; Admires the world, and thinks of Time alone; Avoids the Bible, all reproof avoids; Rocks Conscience, if he can, asleep; puts out The eye of Reason, prisons, tortures, binds, And makes her thus, by violence and force, Give wicked evidence against herself; Lets passion loose, the substance leaves, pursues The shadow vehemently, but ne'er o'ertakes; Puts by the cup of holiness and joy; And drinks, carouses deeply, in the bowl Of death; grovels in dust, pollutes, destroys, His soul! is miserable to acquire More misery; deceives to be deceived; Strives, labours, to the last, to shun the truth; Strives, labours, to the last, to damn himself; Turns desperate, shudders, groans, blasphemes, and dies,

And sinks-where could he else?—to endless wo; And drinks the wine of God's eternal wrath.

The learned thus, and thus the unlearned world, Wisdom defined. In sound they disagreed; In substance, in effect, in end, the same; And equally to God and truth opposed, Opposed as darkness to the light of heaven. Yet were there some, that seemed well-meaning

men,

Who systems planned, expressed in supple words, | Saw, as he passed, a shepherd only, here
Which praised the man as wisest, that in one
United both; pleased God, and pleased the world;
And with the saint, and with the sinner, had,
Changing his garb, unseen, a good report.
And many thought their definition best;
And in their wisdom grew exceeding wise.
Union abhorred! dissimulation vain!
Could Holiness embrace the harlot Sin?
Could life wed death? Could God with Mammon
dwell?

Oh, foolish men! oh, men for ever lost!
In spite of mercy lost, in spite of wrath!
In spite of Disappointment and Remorse,
Which made the way to ruin, ruinous!

Hear what they were: The progeny of Sin,
Alike, and oft combined; but differing much
In mode of giving pain. As felt the gross,
Material part, when in the furnace cast,
So felt the soul, the victim of Remorse.
It was a fire which on the verge of God's
Commandments burned, and on the vitals fed
Of all who passed. Who passed, there met Re-

morse;

A violent fever seized his soul; the heavens
Above, the earth beneath, seemed glowing brass,
Heated seven times; he heard dread voices speak,
And mutter horrid prophecies of pain,
Severer and severer yet to come;

And as he writhed and quivered, scorched within,
The Fury round his torrid temples flapped
Her fiery wings, and breathed upon his lips
And parched tongue the withered blasts of hell.
It was the suffering begun, thou sawst
In symbol of the Worm that never dies.

The other, Disappointment, rather seemed
Negation of delight. It was a thing
Sluggish and torpid, tending towards death.
Its breath was cold, and made the sportive blood,
Stagnant, and dull, and heavy, round the wheels
Of life. The roots of that whereon it blew,
Decayed, and with the genial soil no more
Held sympathy; the leaves, the branches drooped,
And mouldered slowly down to formless dust;
Not tossed and driven by violence of winds,
But withering where they sprung, and rotting
there

Long disappointed, disappointed still,

The hopeless man, hopeless in his main wish,
As if returning back to nothing, felt;
In strange vacuity of being hung,

And rolled and rolled his eye on emptiness,
That seemed to grow more empty every hour.
One of this mood I do remember well.

And there, watching his little flock, or heard
The ploughman talking to his steers; his hopes,
His morning hopes, awoke before him, smiling,
Among the dews and holy mountain airs;
And fancy coloured them with every hue
Of heavenly loveliness. But soon his dreams
Of childhood fled away, those rainbow dreams,
So innocent and fair, that withered Age,
Even at the grave, cleared up his dusty eye,
And, passing all between, looked fondly back
To see them once again, ere he departed:
These fled away, and anxious thought, that wished
To go, yet whither knew not well to go,
Possessed his soul, and held it still awhile.
He listened, and heard from far the voice of fame,
Heard and was charmed; and deep and sudden

VOW

Of resolution, made to be renowned;
And deeper vowed again to keep his vow.
His parents saw, his parents, whom God made
Of kindest heart, saw, and indulged his hope.
The ancient page he turned, read much, thought
much,

And with old bards of honourable name
Measured his soul severely; and looked up
To fame, ambitious of no second place.
Hope grew from inward faith, and promised fair.
And out before him opened many a path
Ascending, where the laurel highest waved
Her branch of endless green. He stood admiring,
But stood, admired, not long. The harp he seized,
The harp he loved, loved better than his life,
The harp which uttered deepest notes, and held
The ear of thought a captive to its song.

He searched and meditated much, and whiles,
With rapturous hand, in secret, touched the lyre,
Aiming at glorious strains; and searched again
For theme deserving of immortal verse;
Chose now, and now refused, unsatisfied;
Pleased, then displeased, and hesitating still.
Thus stood his mind, when round him came a
cloud,

Slowly and heavily it came, a cloud
Of ills, we mention not. Enough to say,
'Twas cold, and dead, impenetrable gloom.
He saw its dark approach, and saw his hopes,
One after one, put out, as nearer still

It drew his soul; but fainted not at first,
Fainted not soon. He knew the lot of man
Was trouble, and prepared to bear the worst;
Endure whate'er should come, without a sigh
Endure, and drink, even to the very dregs,
The bitterest cup that Time could measure out;

We name him not,-what now are earthly And, having done, look up, and ask for more. names?

In humble dwelling born, retired, remote; In rural quietude, 'mong hills, and streams, And melancholy deserts, where the Sun

He called philosophy, and with his heart Reasoned. He called religion too, but called Reluctantly, and therefore was not heard. Ashamed to be o'ermatched by earthly woes,

He sought, and sought, with eye that dimmed apace, And oft united both, as friends severe,

To find some avenue to light, some place

On which to rest a hope; but sought in vain.
Darker and darker still the darkness grew.
At length he sunk, and Disappointment stood
His only comforter, and mournfully
Told all was passed. His interest in life,
In being, ceased: and now he seemed to feel,
And shuddered as he felt, his powers of mind
Decaying in the spring-time of his day.
The vigorous, weak became, the clear obscure.
Memory gave up her charge, Decision reeled,
And from her flight, Fancy returned, returned
Because she found no nourishment abroad.

To teach men wisdom; but the fool, untaught,
Was foolish still. His ear he stopped, his eyes
He shut, and blindly, deafly obstinate,
Forced desperately his way from wo to wo.

One place, one only place, there was on earth,
Where no man e'er was fool, however mad.
"Men may live fools, but fools they cannot die."
Ah! 'twas a truth most true; and sung in Time,
And to the sons of men, by one well known
On earth for lofty verse and lofty sense.
Much hast thou seen, fair youth, much heard;

but thou

Hast never seen a death-bed, never heard

The blue heavens withered, and the moon, and A dying groan. Men saw it often. 'Twas sad,

sun,

And all the stars, and the green earth, and morn
And evening, withered; and the eyes, and smiles,
And faces, of all men and women withered;
Withered to him; and all the universe,

To all most sorrowful and sad; to guilt,
'Twas anguish, terror, darkness, without bow.
But, oh! it had a most convincing tongue,
A potent oratory, that secured

Most mute attention; and it spoke the truth

Like something which had been, appeared; but So boldly, plainly, perfectly distinct,

now

Was dead and mouldering fast away. He tried
No more to hope, wished to forget his vow,
Wished to forget his harp; then ceased to wish.
That was his last. Enjoyment now was done.
He had no hope, no wish, and scarce a fear.
Of being sensible, and sensible

Of loss, he as some atom seemed, which God
Had made superfluously, and needed not
To build creation with; but back again
To nothing threw, and left it in the void,
With everlasting sense that once it was.

That none the meaning could mistake, or doubt;
And had withal a disenchanting power,
A most omnipotent and wondrous power,
Which in a moment broke, for ever broke,
And utterly dissolved, the charms, and spells,
And cunning sorceries of earth and hell.
And thus it spoke to him who ghastly lay,
And struggled for another breath: Earth's cup
Is poisoned; her renown, most infamous;
Her gold, seem as it may, is really dust;
Her titles, slanderous names; her praise, reproach;
Her strength, an idiot's boast; her wisdom blind;

Oh! who can tell what days, what nights, he Her gain, eternal loss; her hope, a dream;
spent,

Her love, her friendship, enmity with God;
Her promises, a lie; her smile, a harlot's;
Her beauty, paint, and rotten within; her pleas
ures,

Of tideless, waveless, sailless, shoreless wo!
And who can tell how many, glorious once,
To others and themselves of promise full,
Conducted to this pass of human thought,
This wilderness of intellectual death,
Wasted and pined, and vanished from the earth, Her all, most utter vanity; and all
Leaving no vestige of memorial there!

It was not so with him. When thus he lay,
Forlorn of heart, withered and desolate,
As leaf of Autumn, which the wolfish winds,
Selecting from its falling sisters, chase,
Far from its native grove, to lifeless wastes,
And leave it there alone, to be forgotten
Eternally, God passed in mercy by,-
His praise be ever new!—and on him breathed,
And bade him live, and put into his hands
A holy harp, into his lips a song,
That rolled its numbers down the tide of Time.
Ambitious now but little, to be praised
Of men alone; ambitious most, to be
Approved of God, the Judge of all; and have
His name recorded in the book of life.

Deadly assassins masked; her laughter grief;
Her breasts, the sting of Death; her total sum,

Her lovers mad, insane most grievously,
And most insane because they know it not.

Thus did the mighty reasoner, Death declare,
And volumes more; and in one word confirmed
The Bible whole, Eternity is all.

But few spectators, few believed, of those
Who staid behind. The wisest, best of men,
Believed not to the letter full; but turned,
And on the world looked forth, as if they thought
The well-trimmed hypocrite had something still
Of inward worth. The dying man alone,
Gave faithful audience, and the words of Death,
To the last jot, believed, believed and felt;
But oft, alas! believed and felt too late.

And had Earth, then, no joys, no native sweets
No happiness, that one, who spoke the truth,

Such things were Disappointment and Re- Might call her own? She had; true, native sweets,

morse.

Indigenous delights, which up the tree

Of holiness, embracing as they grew,
Ascended, and bore fruit of heavenly taste;
In pleasant memory held, and talked of oft,
By yonder Saints, who walk the golden streets
Of New Jerusalem, and compass round
The Throne, with nearest vision blessed. Of these,
Hereafter, thou shalt hear, delighted hear;
of beauty in the life of man.

One page

BOOK IV.

THE world had much of strange and wonderful,
In passion much, in action, reason, will,
And much in providence, which still retired
From human eye, and led Philosophy,

That ill her ignorance liked to own, through dark
And dangerous paths of speculation wild.
Some striking features, as we pass, we mark,
In order such as memory suggests.

One passion prominent appears, the lust
Of power, which oft-times took the fairer name
Of liberty, and hung the popular flag
Of freedom out. Many, indeed, its names.
When on the throne it sat, and round the neck
Of millions riveted its iron chain,
And on the shoulders of the people laid
Burdens unmerciful, it title took
Of tyranny, oppression, despotism;
And every tongue was weary cursing it.
When in the multitude it gathered strength,
And, like an ocean bursting from its bounds,
Long beat in vain, went forth resistlessly,
It bore the stamp and designation, then,
Of popular fury, anarchy, rebellion;
And honest men bewailed all order void;
All laws annulled; all property destroyed;
The venerable, murdered in the streets;

And men who noticed not the suicide,
Stood wondering much, why earth from age to age,
Was still enslaved; and erring causes gave.

This was earth's liberty, its nature this,
However named, in whomsoever found,-
And found it was in all of woman born,—
Each man to make all subject to his will;
To make them do, undo, eat, drink, stand, move,
Talk, think, and feel, exactly as he chose.
Hence the eternal strife of brotherhoods,
Of individuals, families, commonwealths.
The root from which it grew was pride; bad root,
And bad the fruit it bore. Then wonder not,
That long the nations from it richly reaped
Oppression, slavery, tyranny, and war;
Confusion, desolation, trouble, shame.
And, marvellous though it seem, this monster,
when

It took the name of slavery, as oft

It did, had advocates to plead its cause;
Beings that walked erect, and spoke like men;
Of Christian parentage descended, too,
And dipped in the baptismal font, as sign
Of dedication to the prince who bowed
To death, to set the sin-bound prisoner free.
Unchristian thought! on what pretence soe'er
Of right; inherited, or else acquired;
Of loss, or profit, or what plea you name,
To buy and sell, to barter, whip, and hold
In chains, a being of celestial make;

Of kindred form, of kindred faculties,
Of kindred feelings, passions, thoughts, desires;
Born free, and heir of an immortal hope;
Thought villanous, absurd, detestable!
Unworthy to be harboured in a fiend!
And only overreached in wickedness
By that, birth, too, of earthly liberty,
Which aimed to make a reasonable man
By legislation think, and by the sword

The wise despised; streams, red with human Believe. This was that liberty renowned,
blood;

Harvests beneath the frantic foot trod down;
Lands, desolate; and famine at the door.

These are a part; but other names it had,
Innumerous as the shapes and robes it wore.
But under every name, in nature still
Invariably the same, and always bad.
We own, indeed, that oft against itself
It fought, and sceptre both and people gave
An equal aid; as long exemplified

In Albion's isle, Albion, queen of the seas;
And in the struggle, something like a kind
Of civil liberty grew up, the best

Of mere terrestrial root; but, sickly, too,
And living only, strange to tell! in strife
Of factions equally contending; dead,
That very moment dead, that one prevailed.
Conflicting cruelly against itself,

By its own hand it fell; part slaying part,

Those equal rights of Greece and Rome, where

men,

All, but a few, were bought, and sold, and scourged,
And killed, as interest or caprice enjoined;
In after times talked of, written of, so much,
That most, by sound and custom led away,
Believed the essence answered to the name.
Historians on this theme were long and warm.
Statesmen, drunk with the fumes of vain debate,
In lofty swelling phrase called it perfection.
Philosophers its rise, advance, and fall,
Traced carefully: and poets kindled still,
As memory brought it up; their lips were touched
With fire, and uttered words that men adored.
Even he, true bard of Zion, holy man!
To whom the Bible taught this precious verse,
"He is the freeman whom the truth makes free,"
By fashion, though by fashion little swayed,
Scarce kept his harp from pagan freedom's praise.

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