University of Virginia Library

XXI.

Calm, deep, and silent was the tide of joy
That rolled o'er all the Blessed; visions of bliss,
Rapture too mighty, swelled their hearts to bursting;
Prelude to Heaven it seemed, and in their sight
Celestial glories swam. How fared, alas!
That other Band? Sweet to their troubled minds
The solemn scene; ah! doubly sweet the breeze
Refreshing, and the purple light to eyes
But newly oped from that benumbing sleep
Whose dark and drear abode no cheering dream,
No bright-hued vision ever enters, souls
For ages pent, perhaps, in some dim world
Where guilty spectres stalk the twilight gloom.
For, like the spirit's last seraphic smile,
The Earth, anticipating now her tomb,
To rise, perhaps, as Heaven magnificent,
Appeared Hesperian: gales of gentlest wing
Came fragrance-laden, and such odors shed
As Yemen never knew, nor those blest Isles
In Indian seas where the voluptuous breeze
The peaceful Native breathes, at eventide,
From nutmeg groves and bowers of cinnamon.
How solemn on their ears the choral note
Swelled of the Angel hymn! so late escaped
The cold embraces of the grave, whose damp
Silence no voice or stringed instrument
Has ever broke! Yet with the murmuring breeze
Full sadly chimed the music and the song,
For with them came the memory of joys
For ever past, the stinging thought of what
They once had been, and of their future lot.
To their grieved view the passages of Earth
Delightful rise, their tender ligaments
So dear, they heeded not an after state,
Though by a fearful Judgment ushered in.
A Bridegroom fond, who lavished all his heart
On his Beloved, forgetful of the Man
Of many sorrows, who, for him, resigned
His meek and spotless spirit on the cross,
Has marked among the Blessed Bands, arrayed
Celestial in a spring of beauty doomed
No more to fade, the charmer of his soul,
Her cheek soft blooming like the dawn in Heaven.
He recollects the days when on his smile
She lived; when, gently leaning on his breast,
Tears of intense affection dimmed her eyes,
Of dove-like lustre.—Thoughtless, now, of him
And earthly joys, eternity and Heaven
Engross her soul.—What more accursed pang
Can Hell inflict? With her, in realms of light,
In never-dying bliss, he might have rolled
Eternity away; but now, for ever,
Torn from his Bride new-found, with cruel Fiends,
Or Men like Fiends, must waste and weep. Now, now,
He mourns with burning, bitter drops his days
Misspent, probation lost, and Heaven despised.
Such thoughts from many a bursting heart drew forth
Groans, lamentations, and despairing shrieks,
That on the silent air came from afar.