Messiah :: :: University of Virginia Library

Down to the central fires, from summit wild,
Where never verdure shone, nor flowret smiled!
But smoke and flame, and lava, all around,
To life, advancing, spread the iron bound;
Satan once more, with Mammon by his side,
Descended to explore the region, wide,
Where Souls, accurs'd, 'till the Judgment Day, abide.
Awhile, the veil, invisible, they wear,
That they might trace those dwellings of despair,
And learn, what legions might be summon'd thence,
For the last conflict with Omnipotence!

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Spirits, from earth descending, first advance
To the huge hall, th' ordain'd inheritance
Of night's dark brood! thro' which, forlorn, they go
To scenes beyond of ever-during woe.
Satyrs, and hideous dragons, here abide,
'Mid streams, bitumenous, a burning tide,
Where scalēd monsters, breathing fearful sound,
Toss on the billow, scattering fire around.
The creeping forms of earth were shapes of love
Liken'd with such as here, below, above,
Move on the sight, all hateful! Some there are,
Flying like gorgon serpent, shooting star;
Some crawling, bounding some, from place to place,
Some toad-like seated, some with eager chase
Pursued, or else pursuing, as might seem,
Now up aloft, now on the burning stream
With claws, and stings, and fangs, and breath of fire,
Roars, shrieks, and deaf'ning yells, and wailings dire.

With new and hissing sound of dissonance,
Upon a high far-jetting eminence,
A sable eagle, huge, looks far and nigh,
And flaps his wing, and marks, with meaning eye,

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Some food that lives, when pouncing on his prey,
He bears it, vainly struggling, far away.
At stated times, hunger intense he feels,
Then only, as strange meteor, faint, reveals
Some sick'ning glare, (when dreams the mind release,
Or, from intenseness, suffering seems to cease)
When, bursting on his food, he gives the sound,
The clock of hell! heard to her farthest bound.

From one vast cauldron in the burning tide,
Majestic flames ascend, and, spreading wide,
Roam terrible; now issuing in full flame,
Recoiling now, and blazing now the same.
Sudden, at warning shrill, the living thing,
Creeping, or upward tossing on the wing,
Hurries to dark retreat, and all is still.
The fire intenser burns; flames, volleying, fill
The wide expanse, when, from the cauldron, rise,
Like pestilence that roams the midnight skies,
Hosts of tormented spirits! Up they pour,
And now, like Locusts, line the fiery shore.
Here morn and eve, (for morn and eve are there,
The evening, brief cessation from despair,

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The morning the full glow of feeling deep,
When miseries afresh their senses steep,)
The wretched souls, from regions, far beneath,
Ascend, in new, not kindlier air, to breathe,
And ever as the Eagle screams, the tide,
That burning rolls, their strenuous arms divide,
Plunging, and scattering flakes on every side.

The realms beyond, unnumber'd domes display,
Some cheer'd with light, some clothed with doubtful day
Some red with furnace heat, while cars of fire
One moment sail along, then quick expire,
Bearing new inmates to th' abodes of pain,
And shaking as they pass, the unseen chain.
Nor must the wretched wander as they will
From place to place, tho' hell pursue them still,
All, with transgressors, kindred, herd alone.
No common home is there. Their very groan
Hath character peculiar, whilst each bound,
Thro' the wide space, of crystal clear is found,
Presenting to the eye, as each sustains
His own untold, unutterable pains,
One sweeping view of what they all endure,
Augmenting thus the ill, that knows no cure.

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The first huge vault displays th' appointed place
Where Liars dwell, no smile upon their face;
They boast how choice their lot, from pain apart,
Whilst the black asp is gnawing at their heart.

The fiends, advancing, now perceive the dome
Where, silent, cheerless, self-accusing, roam
Th' Unjust of Earth, who held the conflict deep
With conscience, by no effort lull'd to sleep;
Now, finding that injustice, like a ball,
Bounded from others, on themselves to fall,
With weight that doth their shuddering hearts appal.

And now are seen Extortioners, beguiled
With wronging others, whom they next reviled.
Still round they gaze, askance, to over-reach
Some soul, less vigilant, whilst each, on each,
Upbraiding looks, where none can learn or teach.

Th' Oppressor of the Widow next is found
Stalking, with solemn pace, in anguish drown'd;
Th' accusing spirit ever whispering still,
“The power to wrong was thine and thine the will!”

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Th' adjacent dome presents a fearful band,
Walking beside the river, hand in hand:
These all defrauded once the Fatherless!
Who view, in their ineffable distress,
The fierce eyed infant, hovering round, in air,
Increasing thus their torment and despair.

Now thro' a chasm of horrible descent,
Where groans proclaim the deeper punishment,
The men are seen who deem'd Heaven's Word, a Lie!
That Book which teaches how to live, and die,
Which bids the soul with views immortal swell,
Which scatters light where all in darkness dwell,
Thus humanizing earth, or else a hell!
Such now perceive, as in the blaze of day,
That love of evil taught them first to stray,
That in the heart, alone, the poison lay.
They chose to close their eyes, and then maintain
That all was pitchy night; that hope was vain;
And, blasphemous! their Maker to arraign.
These hang upon a hair, a gulf below,
Whence sounds arise of unimagin'd woe,
And one by one they drop, their doom to know!

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Loathsome as sin, no gaudy trappings near,
The Sensual and Lascivious, now appear;
(Their pleasures over, whilst their woes remain!)
Writhing with still-increasing sense of pain.
Here Younger, on the Elder, look, and say,
“Your filthy converse led me first astray!
“The nearer to th' impatient grave you came,
“Your words were fouler, and more lost to shame!
“Hell used your voice my precious soul to win,
“And needless fan the dormant spark of sin!
“You brought me to this place!” The Elder cry,
“And ours the deeper pang! Turn off thine eye,
“Nor see the soul that would, but cannot die!”

In near recess, now, rise upon the sight
Spirits malign, that human eye would fright,
So terrible in anguish and despair!
Abhorr'd in hell! Seducers, vile, are there!
Men who with wiles, and lies, and fair array,
Made Unsuspecting Innocence their prey;
Vow'd constancy, believed in evil hour!
And heedless laugh'd to mark the blasted flower!
Here every pang, inflicted once on earth,
A thousand fold, they feel, and, at their birth,

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Wish, but in vain, that death's o'erwhelming wave
Had sent them to the infant's peaceful grave.
And here, amid the same unhallow'd dome,
Adulterers, with the wilder'd visage, roam,
Starting, as ever, from the air, they dread
Some unseen foe, enraged, that, on their head
Pours curses, whilst, at intervals unknown,
They feel an icy touch! they hear a groan!
Prelude to fiery darts, that, from on high
Some Secret Being hurls. Ah! now they spy
Their guilty Paramour, fast flitting by!

Descending thro' a lonely passage drear,
Dol'rous and deaf'ning notes salute their ear:
And now they reach a vault, where flow'd a tide
Of liquid fire, sulphureous, deep and wide.
Here sounds burst forth, which but to hell belong,
From Bards Impure, famed for Seductive Song.
Some pour, on some, th' accusing voice and cry,
“My crimes, on thee, once loved, now hated, lie.
“Thy lewd example, and the influence
“Of talents once perverted,—my offence
“Sprang from these hot-beds. Thoughtless of the end,
“I poison'd others, foe, alike, and friend.

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“I, leagued with Vice, along my mortal road,
“To evil turn'd the gift by Heaven bestow'd;
“And I have left behind me venom, still,
“That shall this vault to latest ages fill,”
The scoffing fiend, (accused) disdainful cries,
“Forbear thy piteous moan, forbear thy sighs!
“Tho' all, thy claims to infamy allow'd,
“Thy strains were soon forgotten in the crowd.”
Wrath, heighten'd to the agony, succeeds,
Whilst each, in each, his guilt and suffering reads.
Thus, self-accusing pangs, from age to age,
Thus, rancour, boisterous hate, and hideous rage,
Unbridled, are the one long heritage
Of those, (in Song) who war, on Virtue, wage.

Lo! there the Murderer walks, with silence round,
All wild his look! the hand that gave the wound,
Wither'd, and dropping blood, where'er he strays,
Whilst on his brain, th' half-buried scorpion preys.

Next is beheld a cave of livid light,
Where crowds are seen, in a perpetual flight,
The poignard in their hand! which, in their side,
Ever they plunge, whence flows the crimson tide.

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(For here tho' death can visit pay no more,
Yet every wound, with festering, keen, and sore,
Slow heals, provoking heart-o'erflowing sighs,
Which, like the bubbling spring, perpetual rise)
These fain would flee, as water from the hill,
From their own shadows, fear their torment still!—
The Suicides are there! a ghastly crew,
Who, on themselves, the murderous weapon drew,
And (for some little care, that, with the day,
Haply had past, like summer cloud, away)
Daring their Maker, braving endless woe,
Look'd up, and curs'd their God, and gave the blow!
Others were foes to others, these, alone,
Warr'd on themselves, and now with ceaseless moan,
And tears of blood, their frantic madness own.

One step, descending, might be seen the place
Where Conquerors dwell, that iron-hearted race!
Who never heard or heeded human groans,
Who march'd thro' plains of gore, to mount their thrones,
Crushing beneath their step, as on they pass,
Infant and age, with proud disdain, like grass.
(The vacant throne is there, of sable dye,
For one, in after times, of tearless eye!
Who boasts, of conquerors, black supremacy.)

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These fierce disturbers of a world's repose
Now sit abhorr'd, whilst each, in anguish, knows
How terrible it is to dwell alone,
No flatterers near, upon no envied throne,
And count, dread task! their own unceasing groan.

Here Tyrants dwell who deem'd their subjects slaves;
Now o'er their head the plume of tinsel waves,
Mock royalty! Bedeck'd in base array,
They the first call of every imp obey,
Whilst mem'ry, clamorous foe! doth on them prey.
Those kings who murder loved, yet seem'd to fear
Such charge, tho' oft they dyed, in blood, their spear,
Their pangs must not be told to mortal ear!

And now, in hosts, the Potentates are found,
Who ever walk'd in thoughtless folly's round:
Not despots, ne'er to war and vengeance wrought,
Who only on their duties never thought!
Who lived not for their subjects, who, their days,
Wasted in idle pomp and senseless ways.
Here, with corroding anguish, they behold,
Their mass of sin! their pearls for pebbles sold,

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And mourn, too late, the source of all their woe,
That the example kings were rais'd to shew,
Protecting virtue, checking vice, and crime,
Should have appear'd, too mean for thrones sublime,
Till they alike had done, with earth and time.

The Drunkards now appear. These all employ
Their hours, bewailing past delusive joy:
But they have lost their rude and boisterous sound,
Nor must their hearts with laughter more abound.
They, by a furnace, fill'd with molten brass,
Drink, and re-dip the cup, then onward pass
Th' o'errunning goblet, red, to one before,
Who takes it, drinks, and charges it once more,
So measuring time; while none a tear can shed,
Tho' all can anguish bear, and wave their head.

In neighbouring dome, a numerous band are seen,
Gluttons! once clad in gold, now, abject! mean!
No dainty food is theirs. Beside the board
Still, they are found, without a smile, a word,
Gorging, as erst, their punishment severe,
But, on repulsive food! whilst, ever, near,
The mother and her starving child appear,

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All silent. This molesting sight of dread
Reminds the eater of the tears, once shed
By poverty, which he, disdainful, saw,
(No sun of charity his heart to thaw!)
He lived for self; his thoughts, by day and night,
What new and sumptuous fare might bring delight,
Heedless, tho' whirlwinds, kingdoms swept away,
So he, on all he loved, might sit and prey.
Still, on they eat, no hunger, respite none,
One hateful thing devour'd, the next begun,
Whilst they, in vain, the task abhorrent shun.

Here, Misers might be seen, the abject race,
Within whose breasts, compassion had no place.
Who saw but one, and loved but one, and found
No unison of soul with aught around:
Who once, with hearts unmoved, could hear the sigh,
And, at the orphan, turn the scornful eye!
For worm, or man, no sympathy to spare!
No tear to give, to thing that breathes the air!
The love, which heaven bestow'd, the world to bless,
Fix'd on a hoard!—on earth their wretchedness,
And here their torment! Grasping with all might
The empty bag, on this they fix their sight,

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As statue still, save when they seem to hear
Some wandering ghost, when dread of creature near,
Rouses them up once more to feverish fear.

And now a dark and dreary avenue
Conducts to beings, drench'd in torment new,
Here, far from all, the Hypocrites are seen,
With dress, for ever changing, blue or green,
Now azure, now of spotless white, now red,
Now black, as ever robe by midnight spread.
The shifting garb, on earth, they learnt to wear,
Their passport to all places. Then, with care,
They copied, without blush, or pang of shame,
Whatever dress might best promote their aim.
Now, in the house of prayer, with secret guile,
Owning their sins, and plotting fresh the while;
Now scoffing, with the scoffer: the profane
Now cheering, as with oaths, they heaven arraign:
Now plunging deep in every evil way
Which darkness loves, whilst they the robe display
Of innocence, which hath a heart, to bleed,
For all who, in the crowd, may pity plead.
Here the cameleon power they still retain,
Labouring to hide their soul-distracting pain.

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Each strives to cheat his neighbour and augment,
Ten-fold, the pang and power of punishment,
By boasting that no care can him distress,
And wearing look and garb of happiness:
Yet, as the scorching wind, which there doth blow,
Throws back their mantle, waving to and fro,
Whilst all around, with fear convulsive, start,
The flame is seen, consuming slow their heart,
Where, in the centre, rav'nous vipers dwell,
Not to be scared from feast they love so well!
Some sufferers, there, intenser woe endure,
These are the Priestly Hypocrites, impure,
Whose presence common fiends, dishonour'd, spurn,
Whilst their heart fires, with double fury burn,
And from them, all, as from contagion, turn.
“I thought of you,” they cry, as stern they gaze,
“I look'd at you, and copied all your ways,
“And now the penalty my spirit pays.”

In the next dome, where screws and racks appear,
The Persecutor dwells, with frown austere,
Gazing around, suspicion in his eye,
And with a heart, from feeling freed and dry,
Shouting, “My judgment is the test divine.

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“Think only if your thoughts resemble mine!”
There he conducts some brother to the flame,
He, in his turn, compell'd to bear the same.
And thus they dwell, no respite; made to be
Each one, to each, the source of misery,
From which, like heat from fire, they cannot flee.

Now might be witness'd the stupendous dome,
Where spirits of no fix'd complexion roam—
Not famed for one dark quality alone,
But for a host of little vices known,
And making up, great evils to preclude,
By number, what they want in magnilude.
These were the men who, thro their earthly round,
Never, at human bar, arraign'd, were found,
But, oft by th' human heart, with vehemence!
Selfish, and sordid, full of foul offence,
Backbiters, false, that charity despised,
Treach'rous, who, tho' for folly oft chastised,
Still loved the calumny, and whisperings prized:
Who sent the secret shaft! (of evil eye!)
Yet never heal'd the breach, or soothed the sigh.
Their torments now from varied sources spring;
Like birds of summer ever on the wing,

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No fix'd o'erwhelming curse, no pang supreme,
No suffering, carried to the point extreme,
But, from the change of passions, where they find
Illusions, all of horror, fill their mind.

Now phantoms and strange forms before them rise,
Hurling the lance that just beside them flies!
Now, in their path, the fierce-eyed dragons stand!
Now, in the air, they mark the bloody hand!
Now fiends, with fearful grin, and features dire,
Crowd close around, and paw, with claws of fire!
Now beasts, of panther kind, with gory fangs,
Roaring, draw near! whilst now above them hangs
The three-edged sword (unsheath'd) by slender thread!
Now demons pour, from high, the molten lead!
Whilst the blue fires, from streaming sulphur spread!

Now dulcet notes at hand they seem to hear,
The voice of pleasure wakes the starting tear!
List'ning, with pause intense,—the fearful sound
Of crashing thunder, startling, rolls around.
Now the sweet scent, of rose, and woodbine bower,
Rekindles thoughts of long-forgotten hour,
Whose perfumes have not lost their witching power:

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Deep breath they take of the delicious air,
But, instant chang'd, the hateful scent is there.
Now they behold some angel pitying near,
Hast'ning to break their chains, and dry their tear;
When, sudden. huge and furious fiends advance,
Arm'd with the mail of brass, and fiery lance!
They see their fond deliverer, borne away,
With struggle hard, to darkness and dismay.

Now, in their sight, the flowery meads appear,
Image which memory still retains to cheer!
Meandering streams, where buoyant sunbeams play,
While all is clothed for Nature's holiday;
The deep blue sky, that he must love who sees,
With not a sound, faint-floating, on the breeze!—
The prospect fades away, as soon as seen!
Streams vanish, tranquil skies, and meadows green,
No verdant hills, no streams, no flowrets fair;
No azure skies or pastures smooth are there,
But hideous wails, that thro' the dome prevail,
With tempest, and the blast of fiery hail.

On earth, estranged from good, they learnt to feel
Semblance of pangs, which hell must now reveal.

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They foster'd once the dark distempered mind,
Passions, impetuous as the stormy wind,
Uncurb'd, that Reason spurn'd, with fury blind:
Here, with augmented force, the same appear,
Without one verdant spot the waste to cheer.

Envy comes forth, even in the world of pain,
And loaths the fiend that wears the lighter chain;
Here Wrath, with voice of fury, shakes the air;
Here red-eyed Anger, with terrific glare,
Looks round, 'mid oaths, and imprecations dread,
Daring to combat all who near him tread.
Here Malice, with closed mouth and downward eye,
Seeks, cautious, foe, or fancied foe, to spy,
And, in th' unguarded hour, with triumph proud,
Stabs and retires, unseen, amid the croud.
And here, Revenge, in rage, remorseless, strong,
Bursts from restraint, proclaiming loud his wrong,
And towards his mark, with step, to flight allied,
Hastes, and the dagger plunges in his side.
All these bewail, in vain, their earthly deed,
But the worst pangs, from one dread source proceed:
The thought of happiness, they dwell upon—
For ever forfeited! for ever gone!

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Thro' all these realms which heaven's displeasure bear,
Thro' all these regions of intense despair,
In robe invisible to every eye,
Th' Infernal Chiefs, far wander'd, where they spy,
Exulting, on all sides, 'mid fire and shade,
The havoc wide, which Sin, on earth, had made.

Now, in the midst of a stupendous vault,
That boundless seem'd, Satan and Mammon halt.
The chief, impatient to cast off the veil
Which screen'd him from his subjects, gives the “Hail!”
And lo! he stands the Monarch of the place,
Huge and commanding! Joy, in every face,
Burst forth, whilst each, as he beheld the sight,
His torment half forgot, and with delight
(Deem'd pain on earth,) with a permission high,
Hurried to pour his ardent loyalty,
While shout, and uproar wild, unbounded fly.

Satan now sees, in one vast column, throng,
With shouts, that vault and fiery rock prolong,
Myriads of souls accurs'd. “Our King!” they cried.
“Now will we spurn our chains, this sulphurous tide,

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“These fearful realms, and, in our might, ascend,
“Led by our Monarch, the infernal's friend!
“And in 'mid air, august, with Heaven contend.”
The Chief exclaim'd aloud. “Oh powers of might!
“Your rage is mine, 'gainst Heaven and Sons of Light!
“But we must curb our spirits, yet awhile,
“And, unsubdued, at all our torments, smile.
“We must th' imperishable hate sustain
“'Till that blest moment when we burst our chain:—
“Uprise to war!” our countless legions hear,
“Whilst we, for mortal combat, lift the spear,
“Beginning, not to end, our high career!”

One burst of universal joyance rose,
Stupendous. Each the glance disdainful throws
At foes, beheld not, save in fancy's eye,
And half exclaims, exultant, “Victory!”

When Satan thus. “Majestic spirits, proud,
“That here, with fierce disdain, around me crowd,
“Made not for servitude, I know you all!
“On earth, once faithful, you obey'd my call;
“And now, with like fidelity, desire
“To conflict nobly by your Friend and Sire.”

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Cain, from the murderer's phalanx slow advanced.
Thus he began. “With reverence more enhanc'd,
“Great Potentate! whom I adored above,
“And whom I yet do honour, yet do love,
“All hail! My punishments, which sore have been,
“Have fill'd me with fresh wrath and hatred keen;
“Inspired me (to thyself approaching still)
“With deeper scorn of good and thirst of ill.
“Oh! speak of Earth! whose woods and valleys fair
“Fond memory holds. Our future hopes, declare,
“And, oh! how long these fires we yet must bear.”

Satan replied. “Yon Earth, from which you came,
“Yields the unbounded homage to my name.
“There is our strength! All in confusion tost,
“The World is rent! The Race of Man is lost!
“Each generation will our force augment,
“Till, at the last, up, with a bold ascent,
“(Led on by Satan's valour and advice,
“Who never will deceive his followers twice)
“We seize Heaven's Thrones and Seats of Paradise.”

Cain answer'd, while the hosts, assembled round,
Look'd earnest, and preserved the pause profound,—

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“Are all, of Adam born, (alas! my Sire!)
“Doom'd to descend to these abodes of fire?”
There was a language, in his air, his eyes,
As tho' one pang he felt, that would arise.

Satan thus spake. “Thou wast my earliest child,
“Since, with the Lie, thy Mother I beguiled,
“And I will answer thee, with that delight
“He feels who doth his dearest friend requite.
“Not all is won on earth. It had been mine,
“Oh! woe! but for Messiah! Son Divine!
“Who, Man to save, forgot his heavenly birth;
“And we divide the Sov'reignty of Earth!
“A Little Flock is his;—mine vast and strong!
“I, like a tide, my subjects roll along!
“And now, one family alone remains
“That hath not borne, contented, Satan's chains.
“Oh! Abraham! Oh! Lot! I would reveal
“Such hate for you as hell alone can feel!
“But I must cautious be, nor, in one hour,
“Disclose the full of my malignant power.
“One promise hath been made, which I will blast!
“To Abraham (childless long) possession vast,

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“Of Canaan's Land: and there was word exprest,
“That—‘in his seed, all nations should be blest!’
“A world if I could fathom what it meant!
“All darkness, as the midnight firmament!
“In hour, scarce gone, I had confirm'd my spite,
“But chance stepp'd in, and, lo! I lost the fight!
“Abraham one Son doth own. He rear'd, of late,
“The altar, him, to sacrifice. Oh! Fate!
“Just as the prostrate victim, on the pile,
“Waited his death, I, anxious, round the while,
“A thicket caught the ram, that thither stray'd,—
“He bled, not he for whom the fire was made.
“But tho' discomfited, in some new way,
“I will this Son, this hope of mortals, slay;
“Then will the world indeed my voice obey!”

The congregated demons crowding round
Sent thro' the vault the loud triumphant sound,
And thought of fear, as of an idle thing,
With such an arm of might, with such a king.

Satan again. “Gazing on distant day,
“Once, all but Noah, I beheld my prey!
“By chance the Deluge swept them all away.

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“Those princely spirits who high Heaven withstood,
“Here, all, I see! with fiercer wrath endued,
“And more sublime abhorrence of all good:
“Waiting my summons to combine their might
“With demons, far away, once sons of light,
“Brethren, and brave, who soon will cheeryour sight;
“When all, blest hour! with vengeance in their eye,
“Shall rise (an easy task, their leader I)
“To crush th' embattled squadrons of the sky!

“One other care remains—to lead astray,
“By keen temptation, in some special way,
“Lot, who hath never bent the subject knee,
“In token of my high supremacy.
“My court, my rendezvous, in Sodom lies!
“A sister town, Gomorrah, near doth rise,
“Famed for all noble deeds of Death and Wrong,
“Where none but spirits choice, her bulwarks throng.
“My hope is there. Should I, o'er Lot prevail
“To tarry here, where Riches never fail,
“And me, all ranks, their mighty sovereign, hail!
“The strife is won! My schemes will then unfold,
“That shall redeem you from this fiery hold,
“And win us Heaven, by arms and valour bold!”

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Thus saying, he erects his brindled hair,
And rolls his eye-ball round, in horrid stare,
When, bursting from the regions of despair,
(Mammon, the faithful, nigh,) his wings he spread,
And up, once more, to Earth, impetuous fled.