The Poetical Works of Thomas Pringle With A Sketch of his Life, by Leitch Ritchie |
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THE VALLEY OF HUMAN LIFE.
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 | The Poetical Works of Thomas Pringle |  |
THE VALLEY OF HUMAN LIFE.
A FRAGMENT.
“O see ye not yon narrow road,
So thick beset with thorns and briars?
That is the path of Righteousness,
Though after it but few enquires.
So thick beset with thorns and briars?
That is the path of Righteousness,
Though after it but few enquires.
“And see ye not that braid braid road,
That lies across that lily leven?
That is the path of Wickedness,
Though some call it the road to heaven.”
Old Ballad.
That lies across that lily leven?
That is the path of Wickedness,
Though some call it the road to heaven.”
Old Ballad.
Methought a valley wild and wide,
With granite cliffs on either side
Embattled, stretched from sea to sea:
Old Ocean's voice came dreamily
From its dim openings east and west,
Where clouds and misty vapours rest:
And from beneath the eastern cloud
Of human kind a countless crowd,
Methought, were landing evermore,
Like seafowl flocking to the shore,
And up that vale incessant wending
In a train that had no ending.
With granite cliffs on either side
Embattled, stretched from sea to sea:
Old Ocean's voice came dreamily
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Where clouds and misty vapours rest:
And from beneath the eastern cloud
Of human kind a countless crowd,
Methought, were landing evermore,
Like seafowl flocking to the shore,
And up that vale incessant wending
In a train that had no ending.
Then, lifting up my eyes to view
The path this multitude pursue,
I straight beheld a giant mound
Stretching across the valley ground,
So high the eagle's wing would fail
Its sky-topt battlements to scale.
Soon by that rampart's frowning wall
I stood, and heard a herald's call;
While, like the current of a river,
The human tide rolled on for ever.
The path this multitude pursue,
I straight beheld a giant mound
Stretching across the valley ground,
So high the eagle's wing would fail
Its sky-topt battlements to scale.
Soon by that rampart's frowning wall
I stood, and heard a herald's call;
While, like the current of a river,
The human tide rolled on for ever.
Two passages received that tide;
The one, a gateway large and wide,
Like a triumphal arch bestrode
The level highway, sweeping broad
Right through the rampart to the left:
The other, like some fissure cleft
By earthquake or volcanic fires,
All overgrown with thorns and briars,
Appeared so dismal, strange, and rude,
That of the countless multitude,
Methought, comparatively few
Sought there to find a passage through.
The one, a gateway large and wide,
Like a triumphal arch bestrode
The level highway, sweeping broad
Right through the rampart to the left:
The other, like some fissure cleft
By earthquake or volcanic fires,
All overgrown with thorns and briars,
Appeared so dismal, strange, and rude,
That of the countless multitude,
Methought, comparatively few
Sought there to find a passage through.
But by that rugged entrance stood
A herald, grave, yet mild of mood,
Proclaiming, in high solemn strain,
That all who peace and rest would gain,
Or 'scape the fierce Pursuer's wrath,
Must enter by the Narrow Path.
And, as he cried aloud, I saw
That many heard the voice with awe,
Hushed a brief space their boisterous din,
And turned, as if to enter in
By that rude portal; till amain
From the great gate some mirthful strain
Lured back their giddy hearts again.
A herald, grave, yet mild of mood,
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That all who peace and rest would gain,
Or 'scape the fierce Pursuer's wrath,
Must enter by the Narrow Path.
And, as he cried aloud, I saw
That many heard the voice with awe,
Hushed a brief space their boisterous din,
And turned, as if to enter in
By that rude portal; till amain
From the great gate some mirthful strain
Lured back their giddy hearts again.
Then, looking to the left, a blaze
Of dazzling lustre caught my gaze,
Where by the gate a lady sate,
In queenly guise, on throne of state:
She wore a crown of gems and gold;
Her robe was loose, her looks were bold;
And round her a voluptuous train
Of bacchanals and jugglers vain
Were dancing to a Lydian measure:
It was the court of Worldly Pleasure.
And thus unto the passing crowd
The cunning Sorceress cried aloud:—
Of dazzling lustre caught my gaze,
Where by the gate a lady sate,
In queenly guise, on throne of state:
She wore a crown of gems and gold;
Her robe was loose, her looks were bold;
And round her a voluptuous train
Of bacchanals and jugglers vain
Were dancing to a Lydian measure:
It was the court of Worldly Pleasure.
And thus unto the passing crowd
The cunning Sorceress cried aloud:—
“Heed not, my friends, the frantic call
Of that old maniac, by the wall!
The dismal chasm he calls a path
(A relic of some earthquake's wrath)
'Mong savage rocks and grottoes wending,
Must end—if it has any ending—
In some dark gulf or dreary bourne
Whence living wight shall ne'er return!
Of that old maniac, by the wall!
The dismal chasm he calls a path
(A relic of some earthquake's wrath)
'Mong savage rocks and grottoes wending,
Must end—if it has any ending—
In some dark gulf or dreary bourne
Whence living wight shall ne'er return!
Come hither; this way bends the road,
Well-paved and pleasant, smooth and broad,
Which none but madmen would forsake
For yon wild track by cliff and brake.
Come hither; cast off foolish fear;
The Land of Pleasure lieth here.
Look through the gate: behold the bowers
Of citron, shedding fruits and flowers;
The groves of palm by limpid brooks;
The grottoes cool, the grassy nooks;
The banks where joyous groups recline,
With music solaced and with wine.
Come, enter freely the domain
Where I, indulgent empress, reign:
Each moment lost is wasted time,
Till you have gained that luscious clime:
Haste then, and every sense employ—
For life was given you to enjoy.”
Well-paved and pleasant, smooth and broad,
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For yon wild track by cliff and brake.
Come hither; cast off foolish fear;
The Land of Pleasure lieth here.
Look through the gate: behold the bowers
Of citron, shedding fruits and flowers;
The groves of palm by limpid brooks;
The grottoes cool, the grassy nooks;
The banks where joyous groups recline,
With music solaced and with wine.
Come, enter freely the domain
Where I, indulgent empress, reign:
Each moment lost is wasted time,
Till you have gained that luscious clime:
Haste then, and every sense employ—
For life was given you to enjoy.”
The Enchantress thus: and, with a shout
Of high acclaim, the heedless rout
Pressed through the portal's mighty jaws.
Yet many made a doubtful pause,
And some (too few, alas! were they)
Recoiled, and took the Narrow Way.
The rest irresolutely stand,
Gazing on the delicious land
Within: yet blushing, as with shame,
To look on that seductive dame,
And those who danced around her throne
With drunken gait and loosened zone:
And oft, as if with sudden fright,
They glanced with terror to the right,
Whence rose the herald's warning cry—
“From the Betrayer hither fly!”
Of high acclaim, the heedless rout
Pressed through the portal's mighty jaws.
Yet many made a doubtful pause,
And some (too few, alas! were they)
Recoiled, and took the Narrow Way.
The rest irresolutely stand,
Gazing on the delicious land
Within: yet blushing, as with shame,
To look on that seductive dame,
And those who danced around her throne
With drunken gait and loosened zone:
And oft, as if with sudden fright,
They glanced with terror to the right,
Whence rose the herald's warning cry—
“From the Betrayer hither fly!”
Then that Witch with smiling malice
Quickly seized a golden chalice,
And its charmèd mixture threw,
Sprinkling all that hapless crew—
Those alike who hasten in
And those who halt, but fly not sin—
“Thus,” she said, “I make you mine
By a sure baptismal sign!”
Then, submissive to her call,
Through the huge gate hurried all.
Quickly seized a golden chalice,
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Sprinkling all that hapless crew—
Those alike who hasten in
And those who halt, but fly not sin—
“Thus,” she said, “I make you mine
By a sure baptismal sign!”
Then, submissive to her call,
Through the huge gate hurried all.
Soon or slow the fiendish spell
Wrought on all on whom it fell:
While I gazed, a fearful change
Came o'er all with aspect strange:
By degrees the human face
Lost each intellectual trace,
And the features took the cast
Of the bestial kind at last.
Yet still within the eyes there dwelt
A look as if the wretches felt
A hateful consciousness of harm,
Produced by that prevailing charm,
Which gave man's countenance divine
The expression of the wolf or swine.
Wrought on all on whom it fell:
While I gazed, a fearful change
Came o'er all with aspect strange:
By degrees the human face
Lost each intellectual trace,
And the features took the cast
Of the bestial kind at last.
Yet still within the eyes there dwelt
A look as if the wretches felt
A hateful consciousness of harm,
Produced by that prevailing charm,
Which gave man's countenance divine
The expression of the wolf or swine.
| The Poetical Works of Thomas Pringle | |