The Exodiad, A Poem By the authors of Calvary and Richard the First [i.e. James Bland Burges] |
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| 8. | BOOK THE EIGHTH AND LAST. |
 | The Exodiad, A Poem |  |
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BOOK THE EIGHTH AND LAST.
ARGUMENT.
THE discomfiture of the Pagan host—The death of Balak—Joshua destroys the Grove of Chemos—Has an interview with Balaam—Chemos, driven to the infernal regions, seeks protection of Satan—Satan contends with the Archangel Michael for the body of Moses—Moses ascends Mount Pisgah—Addresses his last speech to Joshua and the People—Dies—and the Poem concludes.
383
NOW whilst on Abarim the pagan hordes,
By their false oracles and frantic priests
Assur'd of vict'ry, snatch'd their weapons up,
And with the deaf'ning shout for battle drown'd
The voices of their captains, order reign'd
Through all the legions of the Lord of Hosts.
No human victims on their altars bled;
No mad enthusiast bar'd his limbs obscene,
Gash'd o'er with wounds, and utt'ring cries prophane:
Their worship was the homage of the heart,
Their sacrifice repentance, faith and pray'r;
Whilst their meek prophet, circled by the chiefs,
What best might suit th' eventful time devis'd.
All was serene and silent. Though prepar'd
For war, and conscious that ere long their swords
Must be again unsheath'd, nor fear, nor doubt
Of Heav'n's protecting Providence assail'd
Their hearts by witnest miracles confirm'd:
Such is the confidence, that springs from faith,
And such the zeal, which pure devotion breathes.
By their false oracles and frantic priests
Assur'd of vict'ry, snatch'd their weapons up,
And with the deaf'ning shout for battle drown'd
The voices of their captains, order reign'd
Through all the legions of the Lord of Hosts.
No human victims on their altars bled;
No mad enthusiast bar'd his limbs obscene,
Gash'd o'er with wounds, and utt'ring cries prophane:
Their worship was the homage of the heart,
384
Whilst their meek prophet, circled by the chiefs,
What best might suit th' eventful time devis'd.
All was serene and silent. Though prepar'd
For war, and conscious that ere long their swords
Must be again unsheath'd, nor fear, nor doubt
Of Heav'n's protecting Providence assail'd
Their hearts by witnest miracles confirm'd:
Such is the confidence, that springs from faith,
And such the zeal, which pure devotion breathes.
When from the hostile camp loud shouts arose,
And the rocks echo'd with the barbarous yell,
Denouncing battle, to the army's front
Joshua advanc'd. Upon his glitt'ring helm
The sun-beam play'd; then instantly outflew
The lion-standard, signal from the van
For all the tribes to spread their banners forth:
Then not a falchion through th' extended line
Slept in its shell; no soldier bore a shield,
That did not echo to th' applauding stroke;
The archers gave a shout, and twang'd their bows;
The leaders militant and princes low'r'd
Their spears, in homage to their gallant chief.
Erect and firm he stood: age had not seam'd
His manly brow, nor bent his graceful form;
Quick beat his glowing heart; joy flush'd his cheek,
And tears of gratitude bedew'd his eyes:
Then victory seem'd already in his reach;
Then he confess'd and felt a life reserv'd
For Israel's glory; the prophetic word
Of Moses burst on his recording mind,
And, as he gaz'd on the meridian sun,
He scarce suppress'd a wish, that now his voice
Had pow'r to stay him, and prolong the day,
Till his victorious legions had fulfill'd
Their heav'n-commission'd duty, and aveng'd
Th' insulted majesty of Israel's God.
And the rocks echo'd with the barbarous yell,
Denouncing battle, to the army's front
Joshua advanc'd. Upon his glitt'ring helm
The sun-beam play'd; then instantly outflew
The lion-standard, signal from the van
For all the tribes to spread their banners forth:
Then not a falchion through th' extended line
Slept in its shell; no soldier bore a shield,
That did not echo to th' applauding stroke;
385
The leaders militant and princes low'r'd
Their spears, in homage to their gallant chief.
Erect and firm he stood: age had not seam'd
His manly brow, nor bent his graceful form;
Quick beat his glowing heart; joy flush'd his cheek,
And tears of gratitude bedew'd his eyes:
Then victory seem'd already in his reach;
Then he confess'd and felt a life reserv'd
For Israel's glory; the prophetic word
Of Moses burst on his recording mind,
And, as he gaz'd on the meridian sun,
He scarce suppress'd a wish, that now his voice
Had pow'r to stay him, and prolong the day,
Till his victorious legions had fulfill'd
Their heav'n-commission'd duty, and aveng'd
Th' insulted majesty of Israel's God.
Here as he stood, and bar'd his plumed head,
Whilst the loud greeting ran from flank to flank,
The princely leaders of th' embattled tribes
Approach'd; when Caleb, Judah's gallant chief,
Pleas'd to be charg'd with greeting so sincere,
Thus for the whole with zealous ardour spake.
Whilst the loud greeting ran from flank to flank,
The princely leaders of th' embattled tribes
386
Pleas'd to be charg'd with greeting so sincere,
Thus for the whole with zealous ardour spake.
“Hero, to whom the armies of the Lord
Give with one heart and voice this joint all-hail,
Deign to accept our homage! Thou art he,
Who we believe art destin'd to expel
These nations and their idols. Lead us forth
To battle, mighty chief, if such thy will,
For we are ready with our blood to seal
This pledge of our allegiance, and approve
Our zeal for Israel by obeying thee.”
Give with one heart and voice this joint all-hail,
Deign to accept our homage! Thou art he,
Who we believe art destin'd to expel
These nations and their idols. Lead us forth
To battle, mighty chief, if such thy will,
For we are ready with our blood to seal
This pledge of our allegiance, and approve
Our zeal for Israel by obeying thee.”
He said: the leader of the host replied—
Friends, had I not a heart, that deeply feels
This general demonstration of your love,
I were the most insensible of men.
But you bestow these honours upon one,
Who knows to prize them, nor can call to mind
The hour, he would not have resign'd his life,
Or for his friend, his country, or his God.
Great is my joy, and warmer hopes I draw,
Than ever yet my kindling bosom felt,
Of a triumphant day, when I behold
The orderly arrangement of your tribes,
Thus under arms awaiting the assault
Of those tumultuous self-devoted hordes;
Army I will not call them, but a mass
Of congregated madmen, whom their priests,
Those sacrificers bath'd in human blood,
With lying divinations have betray'd
To lodge on those bare rocks, and make their choice
There to abide and starve, or thence descend,
And die upon your spears. Moses hath said,
That he, whom late ye saw with hands uprais'd
And wild demeanour on the fearful edge
Of the steep mount that overhangs your camp,
Was Balaam, son of Beor: from beside
The banks of far Euphrates he was call'd
By Moab's king to work his magic spells,
And curse the host of Israel; but the Lord
Was mindful of his people, and dispos'd
His heart to bless us—and we shall be blest.
Then spake the seer of wond'rous things to come,
And as the flood of inspiration rush'd
On his enraptur'd soul, revealing scenes
Of distant dark futurity, his strain,
Bold, energetic, cloath'd in words of fire,
Proclaim'd redemption purchas'd for mankind
By a new prophet, sprung from Abram's stock,
As man to suffer, and as God to save.
Thus I recite to you what Moses told;
And this inspir'd Diviner on the cliff
Ye saw, and heard at intervals his voice
In accents supernatural pronounce
Th' involuntary blessing on your host.
Now then, associates, ye behold the day,
The day of glorious triumph for the Lord.
What have the armies of our God to fear,
When thus a Pagan, by his pow'r compell'd,
Unravels his oracular decrees,
And e'en the demons tremble and believe?”
Friends, had I not a heart, that deeply feels
This general demonstration of your love,
I were the most insensible of men.
But you bestow these honours upon one,
Who knows to prize them, nor can call to mind
The hour, he would not have resign'd his life,
Or for his friend, his country, or his God.
387
Than ever yet my kindling bosom felt,
Of a triumphant day, when I behold
The orderly arrangement of your tribes,
Thus under arms awaiting the assault
Of those tumultuous self-devoted hordes;
Army I will not call them, but a mass
Of congregated madmen, whom their priests,
Those sacrificers bath'd in human blood,
With lying divinations have betray'd
To lodge on those bare rocks, and make their choice
There to abide and starve, or thence descend,
And die upon your spears. Moses hath said,
That he, whom late ye saw with hands uprais'd
And wild demeanour on the fearful edge
Of the steep mount that overhangs your camp,
Was Balaam, son of Beor: from beside
The banks of far Euphrates he was call'd
By Moab's king to work his magic spells,
And curse the host of Israel; but the Lord
388
His heart to bless us—and we shall be blest.
Then spake the seer of wond'rous things to come,
And as the flood of inspiration rush'd
On his enraptur'd soul, revealing scenes
Of distant dark futurity, his strain,
Bold, energetic, cloath'd in words of fire,
Proclaim'd redemption purchas'd for mankind
By a new prophet, sprung from Abram's stock,
As man to suffer, and as God to save.
Thus I recite to you what Moses told;
And this inspir'd Diviner on the cliff
Ye saw, and heard at intervals his voice
In accents supernatural pronounce
Th' involuntary blessing on your host.
Now then, associates, ye behold the day,
The day of glorious triumph for the Lord.
What have the armies of our God to fear,
When thus a Pagan, by his pow'r compell'd,
Unravels his oracular decrees,
389
Thus as he spake, the venerable form
Of Israel's aged prophet struck his sight:
Him when the leaders of the tribes perceiv'd,
No longer circling round their chief they throng'd,
But parting outwards stood in rank behind,
And reverently waited his approach.
No longer now majestic and erect,
But bow'd with years, and resting on the arms
Of his attendant ministers he came.
Yet was his eye not dimm'd; though twenty years
Of his now second century had roll'd
Their winters o'er his head, still his firm mind,
Strong as at first, and conscious of its claim
To immortality, felt no decay,
And knew the greedy grave could only take
A wreck, no longer worthy of its care.
Of Israel's aged prophet struck his sight:
Him when the leaders of the tribes perceiv'd,
No longer circling round their chief they throng'd,
But parting outwards stood in rank behind,
And reverently waited his approach.
No longer now majestic and erect,
But bow'd with years, and resting on the arms
Of his attendant ministers he came.
Yet was his eye not dimm'd; though twenty years
Of his now second century had roll'd
Their winters o'er his head, still his firm mind,
Strong as at first, and conscious of its claim
To immortality, felt no decay,
And knew the greedy grave could only take
A wreck, no longer worthy of its care.
Silent the princes stood: the seer approach'd,
When, after pause for breath, with look benign
And courteous salutation, thus he spake.
When, after pause for breath, with look benign
And courteous salutation, thus he spake.
390
“Praise to the God of Israel! who permits
His aged servant to behold this day,
When to thy charge, O Joshua, well-belov'd,
I render up my duties and my cares.
Short will be now the ev'ning of my day;
For night draws on: yet shall I live to see
A second generation reap the fruit
Of that rich promise, which their fathers lost,
For whom so long I importun'd the Lord,
That my solicitude became my sin:
For I had brought them out from Goshen's land,
And though I had no better rest to give,
Save in the desert, yet I set them free:
They murmur'd and rebell'd against the God,
Who fed their hunger and assuag'd their thirst:
'Twas dire ingratitude; yet I, alas!
Weak man, had pity even for their crimes;
And therefore never shall I set my foot
In that fair land, which lies beyond the stream,
That westward rolls its waters in my view.
But whither am I wand'ring? Ah, my friends,
My children, 'tis th' infirmity of age
To talk, when duty urges us to act.
The foe prepares for battle. Ye must fight,
And, fighting, ye shall conquer; for the Lord,
The Lord hath said it: not by me He speaks,
For I am past—in other tones than mine
He vents his oracles, from Pagan lips
The glorious revelation he extorts,
Gives you dominion over Canaan's kings,
And makes the pow'rs of hell attest his gift.
Let then your courage as your faith be firm;
Stand fast and fear not! As a fragment huge,
From the tall summit of a mountain torn,
Falls headlong, so from these impending heights,
Gath'ring at ev'ry steep augmented speed,
Will your foe come. Receive him on your spears!”
His aged servant to behold this day,
When to thy charge, O Joshua, well-belov'd,
I render up my duties and my cares.
Short will be now the ev'ning of my day;
For night draws on: yet shall I live to see
A second generation reap the fruit
Of that rich promise, which their fathers lost,
For whom so long I importun'd the Lord,
That my solicitude became my sin:
For I had brought them out from Goshen's land,
And though I had no better rest to give,
Save in the desert, yet I set them free:
They murmur'd and rebell'd against the God,
Who fed their hunger and assuag'd their thirst:
'Twas dire ingratitude; yet I, alas!
Weak man, had pity even for their crimes;
And therefore never shall I set my foot
In that fair land, which lies beyond the stream,
That westward rolls its waters in my view.
391
My children, 'tis th' infirmity of age
To talk, when duty urges us to act.
The foe prepares for battle. Ye must fight,
And, fighting, ye shall conquer; for the Lord,
The Lord hath said it: not by me He speaks,
For I am past—in other tones than mine
He vents his oracles, from Pagan lips
The glorious revelation he extorts,
Gives you dominion over Canaan's kings,
And makes the pow'rs of hell attest his gift.
Let then your courage as your faith be firm;
Stand fast and fear not! As a fragment huge,
From the tall summit of a mountain torn,
Falls headlong, so from these impending heights,
Gath'ring at ev'ry steep augmented speed,
Will your foe come. Receive him on your spears!”
Scarce had he ended, when from Pisgah's mount
Loud burst the din of battle; down its sides
Th' impetuous legions of the foe came on,
And pour'd upon the plain. On Judah first,
By zeal idolatrous inflam'd, with yells
And execrations dissonant and shrill,
Their furious charge they made. Compact and firm
Them on their sturdy spears, in order rang'd,
Judah's brave sons receiv'd; whilst from the rear
A show'r of darts with destination sure
Pour'd on their crowded line. As when the winds
Tear up old ocean's bed, and from its depth
Unfathomable lift the briny flood,
High mount the foaming billows, wave on wave
Lashes the sounding shore; so with attack
Incessantly renew'd came on the foe.
Then foremost ever in the bleeding field,
And breathing loud defiance, Basan's king
Levell'd the ranks of war; like bending grass
Before the sturdy mower's scythe they fell
Under his pond'rous mace: o'er heaps of dead
The tow'ring portent strode, till the wing'd death
From hand ignoble flew, and stopp'd his course:
Nor mail, nor shield, though vast, oppos'd the stroke;
Between his armour's chinks the barbed shaft
Pass'd, and transfix'd his heart: prone to the earth,
And dead at once, the cumbrous giant fell;
A mass enormous, from his spouting wound
Floating the field with gore. Their hero slain,
Loud was the cry; fear sate on every face
Ghastly and pale. Then Amorrhæa's king
Inglorious wheel'd his fleet Arabian steed;
When, as he turn'd to flight, a jav'lin, hurl'd
By some strong arm, o'ertook him in his speed;
Through his rent mail, with gold and gems begirt,
The well-aim'd weapon forc'd its fatal way,
And laid him writhing in the dust, unhors'd,
Forsaken, trampled under foot, a corpse
To sight now terrible, erewhile a king,
Before whose presence thousands veil'd their eyes,
So bright his splendor and so proud his state.
Loud burst the din of battle; down its sides
Th' impetuous legions of the foe came on,
392
By zeal idolatrous inflam'd, with yells
And execrations dissonant and shrill,
Their furious charge they made. Compact and firm
Them on their sturdy spears, in order rang'd,
Judah's brave sons receiv'd; whilst from the rear
A show'r of darts with destination sure
Pour'd on their crowded line. As when the winds
Tear up old ocean's bed, and from its depth
Unfathomable lift the briny flood,
High mount the foaming billows, wave on wave
Lashes the sounding shore; so with attack
Incessantly renew'd came on the foe.
Then foremost ever in the bleeding field,
And breathing loud defiance, Basan's king
Levell'd the ranks of war; like bending grass
Before the sturdy mower's scythe they fell
Under his pond'rous mace: o'er heaps of dead
The tow'ring portent strode, till the wing'd death
From hand ignoble flew, and stopp'd his course:
393
Between his armour's chinks the barbed shaft
Pass'd, and transfix'd his heart: prone to the earth,
And dead at once, the cumbrous giant fell;
A mass enormous, from his spouting wound
Floating the field with gore. Their hero slain,
Loud was the cry; fear sate on every face
Ghastly and pale. Then Amorrhæa's king
Inglorious wheel'd his fleet Arabian steed;
When, as he turn'd to flight, a jav'lin, hurl'd
By some strong arm, o'ertook him in his speed;
Through his rent mail, with gold and gems begirt,
The well-aim'd weapon forc'd its fatal way,
And laid him writhing in the dust, unhors'd,
Forsaken, trampled under foot, a corpse
To sight now terrible, erewhile a king,
Before whose presence thousands veil'd their eyes,
So bright his splendor and so proud his state.
Then panic terror reign'd; wide o'er the field
The routed pagans spread: to rocks and caves,
To their dumb idols and defenceless groves,
Invoking their false gods, they took their flight:
But them a storm impetuous had dispers'd
To the far-distant north, there to abide
In darkness and bewail their blasted hopes:
For now the supplication, humbly breath'd
By Israel's seer, had reach'd the throne of heav'n;
The wrath of the Almighty had gone forth,
Nor ceas'd the sword from slaughter, till the sun
Rayless went down upon the field of blood.
This when the chief of Israel saw, amaz'd
He view'd the wild confusion, and exclaim'd—
“Not ours, O Lord, this vict'ry. Man from man,
Since war was known on earth, yet never fled
As these, thine enemies, now fly from us:
Therefore be thine the glory, thine the praise,
Whilst we, thy creatures, wonder and adore.”
The routed pagans spread: to rocks and caves,
394
Invoking their false gods, they took their flight:
But them a storm impetuous had dispers'd
To the far-distant north, there to abide
In darkness and bewail their blasted hopes:
For now the supplication, humbly breath'd
By Israel's seer, had reach'd the throne of heav'n;
The wrath of the Almighty had gone forth,
Nor ceas'd the sword from slaughter, till the sun
Rayless went down upon the field of blood.
This when the chief of Israel saw, amaz'd
He view'd the wild confusion, and exclaim'd—
“Not ours, O Lord, this vict'ry. Man from man,
Since war was known on earth, yet never fled
As these, thine enemies, now fly from us:
Therefore be thine the glory, thine the praise,
Whilst we, thy creatures, wonder and adore.”
Balak the whilst, who on the mountain's brow,
Disconsolate and from the fight apart,
Had stood contemplating the fatal scene,
Now turn'd aside, and thus lamenting spake.
Disconsolate and from the fight apart,
Had stood contemplating the fatal scene,
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“Ah sage Chaldæan, truly hast thou said,
The gods I serv'd deceive me; Moab falls,
And Israel triumphs. I have seen enough.
What is my life, and whither can I fly?
A man's own spirit will suffice to bear
The malice of his fortune, and if chance,
That only robs him of his triumph, leave
His conscious sense of honour unimpair'd,
The mind draws consolation from itself;
But when the soul is vanquish'd, all is lost.
The King of Basan against Israel fought,
I against Israel's God: he dies in arms;
I, arm'd with curses only, shunn'd the fight,
And lurk'd in clefts and hollows of the rock,
Whilst Balaam's awful voice, as with a spell,
Bound all my senses up, and fix'd me here
To witness horrors, which too plainly show
I am a wretch beyond redemption lost.
Where is my refuge? Not to Moab's land,
Where I was monarch of a peopled realm,
And reign'd in splendor, will I now return
To dwell in desolation and disgrace,
Pursu'd and baited by the piercing cries
Of widows and of orphans. So to be,
Were but to purchase being with the loss
And forfeiture of all for which we live.
To Chemos shall I fly—to yonder grove,
Where his great tutelary image stands?
And shall I kneel to that, and kneeling cry,
O Chemos, hear me! To these rocks as soon;
For the dumb earth, on which I tread, shall speak
And utter forth a voice, or ere my pray'r
Shall enter the impenetrable stone,
Of which that idol deity is form'd.
If there be that, which answers to the name
Of Chemos, spirit it can never be
Of heav'nly mould, but hell-born and abhorr'd
Of Israel's God, who is the only Lord
And ruler of the fates of all mankind.
What then remains? Extinction is the doom
Of me and Moab: Moab is no more;
Here on the summit of this rock I stood,
And witness'd the extinction of my hope;
Be this the period then of my despair!”
The gods I serv'd deceive me; Moab falls,
And Israel triumphs. I have seen enough.
What is my life, and whither can I fly?
A man's own spirit will suffice to bear
The malice of his fortune, and if chance,
That only robs him of his triumph, leave
His conscious sense of honour unimpair'd,
The mind draws consolation from itself;
But when the soul is vanquish'd, all is lost.
The King of Basan against Israel fought,
I against Israel's God: he dies in arms;
I, arm'd with curses only, shunn'd the fight,
And lurk'd in clefts and hollows of the rock,
Whilst Balaam's awful voice, as with a spell,
Bound all my senses up, and fix'd me here
To witness horrors, which too plainly show
I am a wretch beyond redemption lost.
Where is my refuge? Not to Moab's land,
396
And reign'd in splendor, will I now return
To dwell in desolation and disgrace,
Pursu'd and baited by the piercing cries
Of widows and of orphans. So to be,
Were but to purchase being with the loss
And forfeiture of all for which we live.
To Chemos shall I fly—to yonder grove,
Where his great tutelary image stands?
And shall I kneel to that, and kneeling cry,
O Chemos, hear me! To these rocks as soon;
For the dumb earth, on which I tread, shall speak
And utter forth a voice, or ere my pray'r
Shall enter the impenetrable stone,
Of which that idol deity is form'd.
If there be that, which answers to the name
Of Chemos, spirit it can never be
Of heav'nly mould, but hell-born and abhorr'd
Of Israel's God, who is the only Lord
And ruler of the fates of all mankind.
397
Of me and Moab: Moab is no more;
Here on the summit of this rock I stood,
And witness'd the extinction of my hope;
Be this the period then of my despair!”
He said, and, rushing to the giddy edge
Of the tremendous promontory, check'd
His desperate speed an instant, and exclaim'd—
“Thou God of Israel, whom I would have curs'd,
Let this atone!” then plung'd into the gulph
Unfathomable, and was seen no more.
Of the tremendous promontory, check'd
His desperate speed an instant, and exclaim'd—
“Thou God of Israel, whom I would have curs'd,
Let this atone!” then plung'd into the gulph
Unfathomable, and was seen no more.
Now when the chief of Israel had recall'd
His legions from pursuit, he led them on
Clear from the tainted field, and by the banks
Of the slow-winding Jordan spread his camp
In the pure vale, by gentle breezes fann'd.
The ev'ning trump with lulling note announc'd
The welcome hour of rest, and drowsy night
Cast her soft mantle o'er the weary host.
Still the destroying angel unrecall'd
Kept weary watch, and hover'd on the wing.
Still death, with carnage glutted, sate enthron'd
In awful silence on th' unburied pile
Of bleeding carcases, his ghastly prey:
The rav'ning vulture and night-prowling dog
Instinctive horror felt, nor dar'd approach
The shadowy terror: all the air was still.
His legions from pursuit, he led them on
Clear from the tainted field, and by the banks
Of the slow-winding Jordan spread his camp
In the pure vale, by gentle breezes fann'd.
The ev'ning trump with lulling note announc'd
The welcome hour of rest, and drowsy night
Cast her soft mantle o'er the weary host.
Still the destroying angel unrecall'd
398
Still death, with carnage glutted, sate enthron'd
In awful silence on th' unburied pile
Of bleeding carcases, his ghastly prey:
The rav'ning vulture and night-prowling dog
Instinctive horror felt, nor dar'd approach
The shadowy terror: all the air was still.
At length morn's early centinel came forth,
And from before heav'n's eastern gate withdrew
Night's sable veil, and call'd the breezes up
To chase the sluggish damps, that else had clogg'd
The chariot wheels of the uprising sun.
Then from the hallow'd spot, where central stood
The sacred Ark of God, th' attendant priests
Gave their loud trumpets breath; at sound whereof
The elders and the princes of the tribes,
Civil and militant, as their degrees
And due precedencies gave right and place,
Assembling waited to receive the word
Of their great oracle, and know his will:
Nor long was their suspense, for now behold!
The aged prophet came: he to the ark
With meek obeisance bow'd his hoary head,
Then, turning to the congregation, thus he spake.
And from before heav'n's eastern gate withdrew
Night's sable veil, and call'd the breezes up
To chase the sluggish damps, that else had clogg'd
The chariot wheels of the uprising sun.
Then from the hallow'd spot, where central stood
The sacred Ark of God, th' attendant priests
Gave their loud trumpets breath; at sound whereof
The elders and the princes of the tribes,
Civil and militant, as their degrees
And due precedencies gave right and place,
Assembling waited to receive the word
Of their great oracle, and know his will:
399
The aged prophet came: he to the ark
With meek obeisance bow'd his hoary head,
Then, turning to the congregation, thus he spake.
“Children, ye see when God puts forth his hand
How feeble and how frail a thing is man.
Say not within your hearts—‘It is our arm
Hath overthrown the nations;’ rather say—
Let the Heav'n's hear, and let the earth be still,
Whilst we ascribe dominion to the Lord,
Judgment and pow'r and majesty and truth!
Ye saw how yesterday the giant host
Of Basan fled, like chaff before the wind.
What people can compare with them in strength?
'Twas not from you they fled, but from the Lord.
Earth trembled, and the everlasting rocks
Shook to their deep foundations, when the breath
Of God's displeasure blasted all their strength,
Laid their ranks prostrate, brake their chariot wheels,
And pil'd the field with mountains of their slain.
Why were they scatter'd thus, and made afraid
When no fear was? For their profane misdeeds,
For their abominations, and because
They sacrific'd to devils, not to God,
This fiery wrath was kindled to consume
The earth with her increase: not to reward
Your righteousness, but to chastise their sin,
This evil hath come on them. Tell me now,
How should one chase a thousand; how from two
Ten thousand turn to flight, had not their hearts
Been sever'd from the Lord, who was their rock,
And sold to idol gods, unknown and strange,
Of whom there is no record save in hell?
Where are their gods to save them? Where is now
This boasted rock, in whom they put their trust?
The vine of Sodom is their vine; the grapes
That grow in their Gomorrah, are of gall,
And from the wine-press give a drink as dire
And mortal as the venom of the asp.
They gave the day to feasting: it is past,
And a long night of sorrow now succeeds.
Where will they fly for succour and defence?
Will Chemos now, or he, to whom they made
Horrid libations of their children's blood,
Moloch, the homicidal fiend, arise,
And wrest them from th' almighty hand of God?
Nor he, nor Chemos. Therefore hear me now,
Thou in thy present occupation great,
Greater in that, which shall hereafter be,
Leader and judge of Israel! in thy strength,
With Caleb and with Judah's tribe ascend
The mountain-top, where Moab, in his zeal
To curse the armies of the living Lord,
To Chemos, his abomination, rear'd
Altars profane, and with unhallow'd clouds
Of incense, steaming from the fragrant shrine,
Greeted his senseless idol, and renounc'd
The one eternal power, his father's God:
Break down his images, destroy his groves,
And from the heights of Abarim display
Your fires, a beacon to the Gentile world.”
How feeble and how frail a thing is man.
Say not within your hearts—‘It is our arm
Hath overthrown the nations;’ rather say—
Let the Heav'n's hear, and let the earth be still,
Whilst we ascribe dominion to the Lord,
Judgment and pow'r and majesty and truth!
Ye saw how yesterday the giant host
Of Basan fled, like chaff before the wind.
What people can compare with them in strength?
'Twas not from you they fled, but from the Lord.
Earth trembled, and the everlasting rocks
Shook to their deep foundations, when the breath
Of God's displeasure blasted all their strength,
Laid their ranks prostrate, brake their chariot wheels,
And pil'd the field with mountains of their slain.
400
When no fear was? For their profane misdeeds,
For their abominations, and because
They sacrific'd to devils, not to God,
This fiery wrath was kindled to consume
The earth with her increase: not to reward
Your righteousness, but to chastise their sin,
This evil hath come on them. Tell me now,
How should one chase a thousand; how from two
Ten thousand turn to flight, had not their hearts
Been sever'd from the Lord, who was their rock,
And sold to idol gods, unknown and strange,
Of whom there is no record save in hell?
Where are their gods to save them? Where is now
This boasted rock, in whom they put their trust?
The vine of Sodom is their vine; the grapes
That grow in their Gomorrah, are of gall,
And from the wine-press give a drink as dire
And mortal as the venom of the asp.
They gave the day to feasting: it is past,
401
Where will they fly for succour and defence?
Will Chemos now, or he, to whom they made
Horrid libations of their children's blood,
Moloch, the homicidal fiend, arise,
And wrest them from th' almighty hand of God?
Nor he, nor Chemos. Therefore hear me now,
Thou in thy present occupation great,
Greater in that, which shall hereafter be,
Leader and judge of Israel! in thy strength,
With Caleb and with Judah's tribe ascend
The mountain-top, where Moab, in his zeal
To curse the armies of the living Lord,
To Chemos, his abomination, rear'd
Altars profane, and with unhallow'd clouds
Of incense, steaming from the fragrant shrine,
Greeted his senseless idol, and renounc'd
The one eternal power, his father's God:
Break down his images, destroy his groves,
And from the heights of Abarim display
402
The prophet ceas'd; the chieftain gave the word,
And instantly Jephunneh's martial son
Drew forth the strength of Judah: up the steep
The chosen phalanx march'd. The foe had fled:
Silence and solitude now reign'd around;
Nor was it long ere they descried the grove,
Where, in mid space of the inclosed plain,
Stood the proud shrine of Moab's solar god:
The guards, who minister'd the sacred fires,
Perpetual deem'd, had left them to exhale.
Beneath the shade of a wide-spreading oak,
Propp'd on his staff, a solitary man,
His white locks spreading o'er his azure vest,
Stood, as if nought external could disturb
His meditations, or inspire alarm.
Him Joshua spied, and curious to enquire
Why he alone of all the routed crew
Of idol worshippers disdain'd escape,
Approach'd, and thus address'd the hoary sage.
And instantly Jephunneh's martial son
Drew forth the strength of Judah: up the steep
The chosen phalanx march'd. The foe had fled:
Silence and solitude now reign'd around;
Nor was it long ere they descried the grove,
Where, in mid space of the inclosed plain,
Stood the proud shrine of Moab's solar god:
The guards, who minister'd the sacred fires,
Perpetual deem'd, had left them to exhale.
Beneath the shade of a wide-spreading oak,
Propp'd on his staff, a solitary man,
His white locks spreading o'er his azure vest,
Stood, as if nought external could disturb
His meditations, or inspire alarm.
Him Joshua spied, and curious to enquire
Why he alone of all the routed crew
Of idol worshippers disdain'd escape,
Approach'd, and thus address'd the hoary sage.
403
“What and whence art thou, desperate old man,
Who in this grove, proscribed and accurst,
For which our fires are even now prepar'd,
Dar'st to provoke the doom, that all must meet,
Who have defied the vengeance of our God,
Of heav'n and earth the maker and the Lord?”
Who in this grove, proscribed and accurst,
For which our fires are even now prepar'd,
Dar'st to provoke the doom, that all must meet,
Who have defied the vengeance of our God,
Of heav'n and earth the maker and the Lord?”
“As such I witness him, the sage replied,
And upwards cast his eyes and rais'd his hands
Adoring—Israel's God is Lord of all.
From the far mountains of the east I came,
As by his spirit prompted, to attest
His mighty acts past, present and to come.
I am the son of Beor. Thee I know—
Joshua, the scourge of Canaan and her kings,
Whom I have sev'n times bless'd, and blest thou art.
Hast thou not heard of Balaam?—I am he.
By the Chaldean sages I was taught
To sound those mazy depths, where science hides
Her sacred mysteries from the gaze of men:
My dwelling was the rock beside the stream
Of fam'd Euphrates; over head the oak
And spreading cedar from their boughs let fall
The weak and trailing ivy, that entwin'd
And wove itself about my silent cell:
Thence on the constellated vault of Heav'n
Gazing long time with patient mind intent,
I trac'd the symbols of the starry zone,
And pluck'd her secrets from the conscious moon.
Nor is this all; so potent was my art,
Into the world of spirits I essay'd
Advent'rous inroad, and communion held
With demons ministerial to my power:
In air, on earth and in the depths beneath
They wrought my biddings; throughout all the east
My fame was bruited; great was the resort
For spells and divinations. By the king
Of Moab twice solicited to curse
The people of the Lord, at length I came;
But not to work his purpose did I come:
The God of Israel sent his angel down,
And what he put into my heart to speak,
That I deliver'd truly; but in vain:
They heeded not those oracles divine,
But lent their faith to their blaspheming priests,
And fought and perish'd in their unbelief.
On the hill-top I stood, and saw their host
Fly like the dust from underneath the feet
Of your victorious files. I, having done
And said what He, the infinite in pow'r,
Will'd me to do and say, believ'd that now,
Discharg'd of my commission, I might turn
My face to travel homewards, when I heard
The voice of one, who call'd me by my name,
Bidding me enter and behold the doom
Of this polluted grove. Accosted thus,
I hasted to obey the voice divine,
And here beneath this venerable oak,
Not willing further to advance my steps
Over the soil accurst, I took my post,
And stood, nor rais'd my eyes, till over-head
The shriek, as of a spirit in the air,
Smote on mine ear; when looking up I saw
Chemos, the worshipt demon of the grove,
Caught in a fiery whirlwind, and driv'n on
Far to the north, till, lessening by degrees,
He faded, sunk and melted into air.
The trumpet then gave note of thy approach:
Thou cam'st; I knew thee for the army's chief:
'Twas not alone thy lion-crested helm,
And noble port, that witness'd high command;
It was that inspiration, which so late
Had swell'd and bourgeon'd in my glowing breast,
That mark'd thee for the chosen of the Lord,
Destin'd to high exploits. And now behold!
I am thy servant: let me know thy will,
For all that Moses is soon thou shalt be.”
And upwards cast his eyes and rais'd his hands
Adoring—Israel's God is Lord of all.
From the far mountains of the east I came,
As by his spirit prompted, to attest
His mighty acts past, present and to come.
I am the son of Beor. Thee I know—
Joshua, the scourge of Canaan and her kings,
Whom I have sev'n times bless'd, and blest thou art.
Hast thou not heard of Balaam?—I am he.
By the Chaldean sages I was taught
To sound those mazy depths, where science hides
Her sacred mysteries from the gaze of men:
My dwelling was the rock beside the stream
404
And spreading cedar from their boughs let fall
The weak and trailing ivy, that entwin'd
And wove itself about my silent cell:
Thence on the constellated vault of Heav'n
Gazing long time with patient mind intent,
I trac'd the symbols of the starry zone,
And pluck'd her secrets from the conscious moon.
Nor is this all; so potent was my art,
Into the world of spirits I essay'd
Advent'rous inroad, and communion held
With demons ministerial to my power:
In air, on earth and in the depths beneath
They wrought my biddings; throughout all the east
My fame was bruited; great was the resort
For spells and divinations. By the king
Of Moab twice solicited to curse
The people of the Lord, at length I came;
But not to work his purpose did I come:
The God of Israel sent his angel down,
405
That I deliver'd truly; but in vain:
They heeded not those oracles divine,
But lent their faith to their blaspheming priests,
And fought and perish'd in their unbelief.
On the hill-top I stood, and saw their host
Fly like the dust from underneath the feet
Of your victorious files. I, having done
And said what He, the infinite in pow'r,
Will'd me to do and say, believ'd that now,
Discharg'd of my commission, I might turn
My face to travel homewards, when I heard
The voice of one, who call'd me by my name,
Bidding me enter and behold the doom
Of this polluted grove. Accosted thus,
I hasted to obey the voice divine,
And here beneath this venerable oak,
Not willing further to advance my steps
Over the soil accurst, I took my post,
And stood, nor rais'd my eyes, till over-head
406
Smote on mine ear; when looking up I saw
Chemos, the worshipt demon of the grove,
Caught in a fiery whirlwind, and driv'n on
Far to the north, till, lessening by degrees,
He faded, sunk and melted into air.
The trumpet then gave note of thy approach:
Thou cam'st; I knew thee for the army's chief:
'Twas not alone thy lion-crested helm,
And noble port, that witness'd high command;
It was that inspiration, which so late
Had swell'd and bourgeon'd in my glowing breast,
That mark'd thee for the chosen of the Lord,
Destin'd to high exploits. And now behold!
I am thy servant: let me know thy will,
For all that Moses is soon thou shalt be.”
This said, the chief with mild and gracious look,
From his high state descending, bow'd his head
To the time-honour'd sage, and thus replied.
From his high state descending, bow'd his head
To the time-honour'd sage, and thus replied.
“Prophet, we know the spirit is of God,
Which led thee hither, and which holds thee here;
And grace forbid that Joshua should conceive
A thought to harm thee: sacred and secure,
Of Heav'n so privileg'd, thou needs must be.
The voice, that call'd thee, and the fiery fiend,
Unseen of others, but to thee reveal'd,
Assure me that the labour of thy thoughts,
Redeem'd from error, hath obtain'd of God
Grace and permission to confess this truth,
Attest his wonders and proclaim his will.
Therefore it more behoveth me to learn
Thy pleasure, than that thou should'st ask of mine.
The favour and adoption, thou hast gain'd
In Israel, use as reason may direct,
Or inspiration rule. Would'st thou behold
What Jacob's God by Moses hath decreed,
Stand at my side the whilst our fires consume
This grove, these altars and the shrine profane
Of that now exil'd demon, whom thou saw'st
Caught up and plunging in the furious blast
Down to the habitations of the damn'd,
To dwell with darkness.”—Here the chieftain paus'd;
For now the conflagration had begun.
Climbing the verdant fence the serpent flames
Hiss'd in the dewy air: all Israel saw
The blazing ruin; Jordan's silver flood
From its smooth surface threw reflected gleams,
And to the frighted herds, that graz'd its banks,
Shew'd like a stream of fire: the scatter'd hordes,
That fled the battle, spiritless, aghast,
Look'd back, and Canaan doubted of her gods.
407
And grace forbid that Joshua should conceive
A thought to harm thee: sacred and secure,
Of Heav'n so privileg'd, thou needs must be.
The voice, that call'd thee, and the fiery fiend,
Unseen of others, but to thee reveal'd,
Assure me that the labour of thy thoughts,
Redeem'd from error, hath obtain'd of God
Grace and permission to confess this truth,
Attest his wonders and proclaim his will.
Therefore it more behoveth me to learn
Thy pleasure, than that thou should'st ask of mine.
The favour and adoption, thou hast gain'd
In Israel, use as reason may direct,
Or inspiration rule. Would'st thou behold
What Jacob's God by Moses hath decreed,
Stand at my side the whilst our fires consume
This grove, these altars and the shrine profane
Of that now exil'd demon, whom thou saw'st
Caught up and plunging in the furious blast
408
To dwell with darkness.”—Here the chieftain paus'd;
For now the conflagration had begun.
Climbing the verdant fence the serpent flames
Hiss'd in the dewy air: all Israel saw
The blazing ruin; Jordan's silver flood
From its smooth surface threw reflected gleams,
And to the frighted herds, that graz'd its banks,
Shew'd like a stream of fire: the scatter'd hordes,
That fled the battle, spiritless, aghast,
Look'd back, and Canaan doubted of her gods.
Now to the dismal and obscure abyss,
By earth call'd hell, by heav'n the place reserv'd,
Where Satan o'er his fallen angels reigns
In the profound of uncreated night,
Chemos, no longer on the blast up-borne,
Headlong with dire precipitation fell,
And at the footstool of th' enthroned Sin,
His king infernal, lay a hideous wreck,
Stretcht on the solid sulphur: his fine form,
Cast in etherial mould, and perfect once
In grace angelic, to th' appalled eye
Of hell's great sultan seem'd a shapeless mass:
Still on his shatter'd wings and rivell'd locks,
That when in heav'n with roseate brightness shone,
The unquencht lightning prey'd. At length, half-rais'd,
He turn'd his ghastly eyes where Satan sate
In clouded majesty, and sighing cried—
“Ah, why is death, all living nature's friend,
Giv'n as the period of his pain to man,
And yet to me refus'd, who roll in fires,
Which, to endure one moment, might atone
For all th' offences I have done on earth
Since I lost Heav'n? Oh, give me but exchange
Of agonies, Omnipotence severe!
And whelm me underneath the icy rocks,
That strike their roots into the polar sea,
So I may quench these arrows. Mighty lord!
Son of the morning once, whose radiant sphere,
Exalted high above th' angelic thrones,
Dazzled the seraphim, and caus'd them wage
Ambitious war with Heav'n's eternal king,
Succour thy servant, who for thee hath held
Vicarious empire over Moab's realm,
Fairest of lands, whose fuming altars breath'd
Incense so sweet, methought I still inhal'd
Celestial odours, and almost forgot
That I was reft of heav'n, till Moses wav'd
His wizzard rod, and Joshua couch'd his spear,
And the foul raven of Chaldæa croak'd
His death-denouncing knell: then, then I saw
Spell-stricken Moab turn to shameful flight,
Then Amorrhæa's king ignobly died,
Whilst from his iron chariot down at once
Basan's gigantic champion fell, and roll'd
His laurel-crowned temples in the dust;
Then Jacob's ruthless sons, with slaughter flusht,
Tore down my altars, burnt my sacred grove,
And from the heights of Abarim display'd
The vengeful trophies of their conqu'ring God.
For me there needs no witness: these deep scars
Are pledges of my loyalty, and prove
The pow'r, that vanquish'd Moab, spar'd not me.
And now let Baal, and let Moloch judge,
(They stand beside thee) from my piteous state
What mercy is reserv'd for Canaan's gods.”
By earth call'd hell, by heav'n the place reserv'd,
Where Satan o'er his fallen angels reigns
In the profound of uncreated night,
Chemos, no longer on the blast up-borne,
Headlong with dire precipitation fell,
And at the footstool of th' enthroned Sin,
His king infernal, lay a hideous wreck,
Stretcht on the solid sulphur: his fine form,
409
In grace angelic, to th' appalled eye
Of hell's great sultan seem'd a shapeless mass:
Still on his shatter'd wings and rivell'd locks,
That when in heav'n with roseate brightness shone,
The unquencht lightning prey'd. At length, half-rais'd,
He turn'd his ghastly eyes where Satan sate
In clouded majesty, and sighing cried—
“Ah, why is death, all living nature's friend,
Giv'n as the period of his pain to man,
And yet to me refus'd, who roll in fires,
Which, to endure one moment, might atone
For all th' offences I have done on earth
Since I lost Heav'n? Oh, give me but exchange
Of agonies, Omnipotence severe!
And whelm me underneath the icy rocks,
That strike their roots into the polar sea,
So I may quench these arrows. Mighty lord!
Son of the morning once, whose radiant sphere,
Exalted high above th' angelic thrones,
410
Ambitious war with Heav'n's eternal king,
Succour thy servant, who for thee hath held
Vicarious empire over Moab's realm,
Fairest of lands, whose fuming altars breath'd
Incense so sweet, methought I still inhal'd
Celestial odours, and almost forgot
That I was reft of heav'n, till Moses wav'd
His wizzard rod, and Joshua couch'd his spear,
And the foul raven of Chaldæa croak'd
His death-denouncing knell: then, then I saw
Spell-stricken Moab turn to shameful flight,
Then Amorrhæa's king ignobly died,
Whilst from his iron chariot down at once
Basan's gigantic champion fell, and roll'd
His laurel-crowned temples in the dust;
Then Jacob's ruthless sons, with slaughter flusht,
Tore down my altars, burnt my sacred grove,
And from the heights of Abarim display'd
The vengeful trophies of their conqu'ring God.
411
Are pledges of my loyalty, and prove
The pow'r, that vanquish'd Moab, spar'd not me.
And now let Baal, and let Moloch judge,
(They stand beside thee) from my piteous state
What mercy is reserv'd for Canaan's gods.”
“Talk not of mercy, Satan frowning cried;
He, that commands the heav'ns, affects it not,
And we, who reign in hell, nor deign to ask,
Nor study to deserve it. We have warr'd
With Him, who wields the thunder, and 'twere vain,
'Twere profitless to murmur at the stroke:
If He, who chains the whirlwinds, let them loose
To hunt us through th' interminable void,
We meet them as we may. Had we those arms,
We should not spare to use them: in our ears,
As now in his, mercy would lose her suit.
No more of mercy then! In God tow'rds us
'Twould cease to be a virtue, and in us,
Here fated to associate with the damn'd,
'Twould be an attribute unworthy hell.
Know then, desponding cherub, when you call
On me to save you, you appeal to one,
Who could not save himself; when you confess
Yourself tormented, your tormentor smiles;
But when you sigh for death, you sure forget
That I, who thwarted the creator's work,
And taught the first-form'd pair to disobey,
Sent that abhorr'd anatomy on earth,
And made him the sole property of man;
Whilst angel spirits, like myself and thee,
Immortal reign'd ere he receiv'd a name:
And thou shalt reign; therefore cast off despair:
The courage, that defies the stronger pow'r,
Must brave the pains its conqu'ror may inflict:
It is our doom to suffer, and this place
Was not allotted to us for repose.
Arise, and stand!”—He said, and at the word,
Moloch and Baal, mighty spirits both,
Rais'd him from earth; he stood: when Satan thus.
“Did I not tell thee to renounce despair?
Chemos, awake! where is thy boasted pow'r
Of divination? Hadst thou not a name,
Greater than all the oracles on earth,
For knowledge of things future? What hath dull'd
Thy spirit? Prophet, needst thou to be told
All is not lost? Long ages must succeed
To ages, ere the contest shall be clos'd
'Twixt God and Satan. I have sown too deep
The evil seed to be pluckt up in haste;
And when the last hand shall complete that work,
All things shall change, and time shall be no more.
Meanwhile invention shall be wearied out,
To find new titles for a herd of fiends:
Men shall run wild, and slight the only God
To deify corruption, and persuade
Wretches, whose ignorance hath dark'ned earth,
To graft their names upon the stars of heav'n:
Nay, they shall bend the knee to stocks and stones,
To reptiles vile, to birds and grazing beasts,
And monsters of their rivers and their lakes.
Then shall the world behold a wond'rous thing—
A star shall rise; a babe of virgin born—
A God incarnate shall consort with men,
And death, whom I begat, shall hurl his dart
At immortality, and for a time
Robe the whole heav'n in mourning black as night.
Now learn this also. Ere the hours shall pass,
That serve to measure out a day to men,
On Pisgah's summit Moses shall expire.
Greater than him there hath not liv'd on earth,
Since the first man had being. Sure I am,
God will send down his angel high in trust
To rescue his corruption from the grave:
There I and Michael once again shall meet;
For that encounter I must now prepare.”
He, that commands the heav'ns, affects it not,
And we, who reign in hell, nor deign to ask,
Nor study to deserve it. We have warr'd
With Him, who wields the thunder, and 'twere vain,
'Twere profitless to murmur at the stroke:
If He, who chains the whirlwinds, let them loose
To hunt us through th' interminable void,
We meet them as we may. Had we those arms,
We should not spare to use them: in our ears,
As now in his, mercy would lose her suit.
No more of mercy then! In God tow'rds us
'Twould cease to be a virtue, and in us,
Here fated to associate with the damn'd,
412
Know then, desponding cherub, when you call
On me to save you, you appeal to one,
Who could not save himself; when you confess
Yourself tormented, your tormentor smiles;
But when you sigh for death, you sure forget
That I, who thwarted the creator's work,
And taught the first-form'd pair to disobey,
Sent that abhorr'd anatomy on earth,
And made him the sole property of man;
Whilst angel spirits, like myself and thee,
Immortal reign'd ere he receiv'd a name:
And thou shalt reign; therefore cast off despair:
The courage, that defies the stronger pow'r,
Must brave the pains its conqu'ror may inflict:
It is our doom to suffer, and this place
Was not allotted to us for repose.
Arise, and stand!”—He said, and at the word,
Moloch and Baal, mighty spirits both,
Rais'd him from earth; he stood: when Satan thus.
413
Chemos, awake! where is thy boasted pow'r
Of divination? Hadst thou not a name,
Greater than all the oracles on earth,
For knowledge of things future? What hath dull'd
Thy spirit? Prophet, needst thou to be told
All is not lost? Long ages must succeed
To ages, ere the contest shall be clos'd
'Twixt God and Satan. I have sown too deep
The evil seed to be pluckt up in haste;
And when the last hand shall complete that work,
All things shall change, and time shall be no more.
Meanwhile invention shall be wearied out,
To find new titles for a herd of fiends:
Men shall run wild, and slight the only God
To deify corruption, and persuade
Wretches, whose ignorance hath dark'ned earth,
To graft their names upon the stars of heav'n:
Nay, they shall bend the knee to stocks and stones,
To reptiles vile, to birds and grazing beasts,
414
Then shall the world behold a wond'rous thing—
A star shall rise; a babe of virgin born—
A God incarnate shall consort with men,
And death, whom I begat, shall hurl his dart
At immortality, and for a time
Robe the whole heav'n in mourning black as night.
Now learn this also. Ere the hours shall pass,
That serve to measure out a day to men,
On Pisgah's summit Moses shall expire.
Greater than him there hath not liv'd on earth,
Since the first man had being. Sure I am,
God will send down his angel high in trust
To rescue his corruption from the grave:
There I and Michael once again shall meet;
For that encounter I must now prepare.”
He said, and as the pillar'd sand, caught up
By eddying whirlwind from the Libyan waste,
Mounts to the clouds, so Satan, as he rear'd
His arch-angelic stature, tow'ring swell'd,
Till with expanded wings, as Atlas tall,
In adamantine panoply he stood
Terrific: hell rebellow'd with the shout
Of his applauding satellites; the lake,
That roll'd its sulph'rous billows round his throne,
Burst into flames, that bright'ning as he soar'd
Emergent, gave his mighty form to view.
By eddying whirlwind from the Libyan waste,
Mounts to the clouds, so Satan, as he rear'd
His arch-angelic stature, tow'ring swell'd,
415
In adamantine panoply he stood
Terrific: hell rebellow'd with the shout
Of his applauding satellites; the lake,
That roll'd its sulph'rous billows round his throne,
Burst into flames, that bright'ning as he soar'd
Emergent, gave his mighty form to view.
Michael the whilst, alighting on the top
Of Pisgah, there by God's supreme command
Kept his appointed ward; thence, as his eye
Rang'd the horizon, floating in the north
A speck, to none but angel-vision clear,
Quick-glancing he espied: onward it came,
Expanding in its course; and well he knew,
That other spirit than Hell's mighty lord
Dar'd not approach with that presumptuous speed,
As if to seize his post: whereat with voice,
That stay'd him in his flight, aloud he cried—
Of Pisgah, there by God's supreme command
Kept his appointed ward; thence, as his eye
Rang'd the horizon, floating in the north
A speck, to none but angel-vision clear,
Quick-glancing he espied: onward it came,
Expanding in its course; and well he knew,
That other spirit than Hell's mighty lord
Dar'd not approach with that presumptuous speed,
As if to seize his post: whereat with voice,
That stay'd him in his flight, aloud he cried—
“What ails thee, Satan, to attempt surprise
Where I am station'd? On this spot proscrib'd
Descend not at thy peril! thou art warn'd:
Hover not here, nor bend thine eyes on me,
Who fear thee not; but hell-ward speed thy flight.”
Where I am station'd? On this spot proscrib'd
416
Hover not here, nor bend thine eyes on me,
Who fear thee not; but hell-ward speed thy flight.”
To him the arch-enemy of God and man,
Pois'd on the wing, in vaunting tone replied—
“Inglorious spirit, if it were my will
To plant my foot potential on this spot,
Or any other that the broad earth owns,
Thy menace would not stay me, nor prevent
That I should lift this mountain from its base,
Though thou and all the minstrelsy of heav'n
Were hymning hallelujahs on its top,
And in mid ocean whelm it.”—“Cease thy vaunts,
Spirit unblest! the patient virtue cried;
Time was, (and cause thou hast to rue that time),
When this avenging sword, which now I wield,
Clove with resistless force thy radiant form,
With arch-angelic energy endow'd.
And hop'st thou, when commission'd here I stand,
To guard the sacred spot whereon this day
The prophet of the Lord shall yield his breath,
That thou, or all the banded host of hell,
Shall mar the purpose pre-ordain'd of Him,
Whose minister I am?”—“'Tis well thou art,
Satan replied; office like that beseems
A mean, degenerate spirit, such as thine:
It fits thee well, accustom'd as thou art
To passive base submission, thus to quit
Thy heav'nly principality and throne,
Here to become a centinel, to watch
Th' expiring sigh of Moses, and attend
His lifeless corpse. Oh! 'tis a princely task,
A post, which none but spirits like thyself,
May envy or may emulate. For me,
(No delegated servant, but the lord
Of realms far spreading which confess my sway)
Here on this spot, where, as it seems, thou stand'st
To watch the corpse of Moses, Satan, I,
Come to contest it with thee.”—On the word,
Arm'd for the conflict, he prepar'd to make
Hostile descent upon the sacred soil.
“The Lord rebuke thee, Satan, for thy pride!
Avaunt!” th' archangel said, and rear'd aloft
His flaming sword; and, as he wav'd it round,
From ev'ry quarter of the sky burst forth
The elemental fires. In sulph'rous clouds
Involv'd, the thunder-smitten demon fled,
And sunk desponding to th' infernal pit.
Pois'd on the wing, in vaunting tone replied—
“Inglorious spirit, if it were my will
To plant my foot potential on this spot,
Or any other that the broad earth owns,
Thy menace would not stay me, nor prevent
That I should lift this mountain from its base,
Though thou and all the minstrelsy of heav'n
Were hymning hallelujahs on its top,
And in mid ocean whelm it.”—“Cease thy vaunts,
Spirit unblest! the patient virtue cried;
Time was, (and cause thou hast to rue that time),
When this avenging sword, which now I wield,
Clove with resistless force thy radiant form,
With arch-angelic energy endow'd.
And hop'st thou, when commission'd here I stand,
To guard the sacred spot whereon this day
417
That thou, or all the banded host of hell,
Shall mar the purpose pre-ordain'd of Him,
Whose minister I am?”—“'Tis well thou art,
Satan replied; office like that beseems
A mean, degenerate spirit, such as thine:
It fits thee well, accustom'd as thou art
To passive base submission, thus to quit
Thy heav'nly principality and throne,
Here to become a centinel, to watch
Th' expiring sigh of Moses, and attend
His lifeless corpse. Oh! 'tis a princely task,
A post, which none but spirits like thyself,
May envy or may emulate. For me,
(No delegated servant, but the lord
Of realms far spreading which confess my sway)
Here on this spot, where, as it seems, thou stand'st
To watch the corpse of Moses, Satan, I,
Come to contest it with thee.”—On the word,
Arm'd for the conflict, he prepar'd to make
418
“The Lord rebuke thee, Satan, for thy pride!
Avaunt!” th' archangel said, and rear'd aloft
His flaming sword; and, as he wav'd it round,
From ev'ry quarter of the sky burst forth
The elemental fires. In sulph'rous clouds
Involv'd, the thunder-smitten demon fled,
And sunk desponding to th' infernal pit.
The sun was verging to the western main,
And ev'ning zephyrs with their cooling wings
Fann'd the clear air on Pisgah's lofty brow,
When now the Levites, from the vale below,
Up the high steep had borne their aged seer,
And gain'd the summit. On the topmost peak,
High above all the interjacent hills,
The conscious legate of Jehovah took
His station, and by heav'n endow'd with strength,
Proportion'd to his purpose, stood apart,
Nor needed man's support. Distinct and clear,
In long perspective to th' horizon's verge,
The camp of Israel, Jordan's winding stream,
And the whole circuit of the promis'd land,
Burst on his sight; for in the pow'r of God,
The great archangel, watching at his side,
Had with celestial touch dispell'd the mist,
Which else had clouded objects so remote.
Pond'ring in thought anticipant the scene
Of Israel's triumphs, and that here, redeem'd
From bondage, they might dwell in cities built
By other nations, and for them reserv'd
By their providing God, the prophet stood
And gaz'd delighted; holy rapture seiz'd
His swelling heart, and, as he turn'd aside
To his attendant ministers, he said—
And ev'ning zephyrs with their cooling wings
Fann'd the clear air on Pisgah's lofty brow,
When now the Levites, from the vale below,
Up the high steep had borne their aged seer,
And gain'd the summit. On the topmost peak,
High above all the interjacent hills,
The conscious legate of Jehovah took
His station, and by heav'n endow'd with strength,
Proportion'd to his purpose, stood apart,
Nor needed man's support. Distinct and clear,
In long perspective to th' horizon's verge,
419
And the whole circuit of the promis'd land,
Burst on his sight; for in the pow'r of God,
The great archangel, watching at his side,
Had with celestial touch dispell'd the mist,
Which else had clouded objects so remote.
Pond'ring in thought anticipant the scene
Of Israel's triumphs, and that here, redeem'd
From bondage, they might dwell in cities built
By other nations, and for them reserv'd
By their providing God, the prophet stood
And gaz'd delighted; holy rapture seiz'd
His swelling heart, and, as he turn'd aside
To his attendant ministers, he said—
“Lead me to yonder plain where Joshua stands,
And with the chiefs and elders of the tribes
Awaits my coming; for I feel a hand,
That warns me thither, and arrested holds
The stroke of death, till I shall breathe a pray'r
For my beloved people, and expire.”
And with the chiefs and elders of the tribes
Awaits my coming; for I feel a hand,
That warns me thither, and arrested holds
The stroke of death, till I shall breathe a pray'r
For my beloved people, and expire.”
420
He said, and turn'd his face, as if to seek
Th' assembled princes. This when Joshua saw,
“Behold, he cried, the aged prophet comes;
The dying father comes to bless his sons:
Prevent the labour of his steps, my friends,
And hasten to receive his last commands.”
Th' assembled princes. This when Joshua saw,
“Behold, he cried, the aged prophet comes;
The dying father comes to bless his sons:
Prevent the labour of his steps, my friends,
And hasten to receive his last commands.”
No more; the chief, with Caleb ever prompt
To pay obedience to his leader's call,
Advanc'd, nor did the princes of the tribes
Delay to follow: upon sight whereof,
In the mid space the pious prophet stopp'd,
And rais'd his eyes to heav'n, and, for he knew
How near his portion in this mortal life
Was drawing to its end, devoutly pray'd
That God would strengthen him to meet the hour
Of dissolution with a constant mind.
The pray'r was heard; the aged supplicant
Was not forgotten of his gracious Lord.
And now the princely company approach'd,
With Joshua and with Caleb in their front,
And, having jointly paid obeisance due,
Respectful silence kept. He with a smile,
That spoke their welcome, meekly bow'd his head,
And in an accent so divinely mild,
As might have grac'd a cherub, when he comes
Upon the wings of mercy to assure
The penitent of pardon, thus he spake.
To pay obedience to his leader's call,
Advanc'd, nor did the princes of the tribes
Delay to follow: upon sight whereof,
In the mid space the pious prophet stopp'd,
And rais'd his eyes to heav'n, and, for he knew
How near his portion in this mortal life
Was drawing to its end, devoutly pray'd
That God would strengthen him to meet the hour
Of dissolution with a constant mind.
The pray'r was heard; the aged supplicant
Was not forgotten of his gracious Lord.
And now the princely company approach'd,
With Joshua and with Caleb in their front,
421
Respectful silence kept. He with a smile,
That spoke their welcome, meekly bow'd his head,
And in an accent so divinely mild,
As might have grac'd a cherub, when he comes
Upon the wings of mercy to assure
The penitent of pardon, thus he spake.
“Children! behold I come, as servant should,
With humble acquiescence to receive
Gracious dismission from the Lord my God,
Who now hath number'd out my days on earth,
And, giving me to know my latter end,
Calls me away in his pre-destin'd time.
I murmur not, for I am full of years,
And willingly resign a toilsome life,
When He, who gave me labour, gives me rest.
I have not borrow'd of the public spoil;
Not for myself I've liv'd; when I am dead,
Search and examine if or ox or ass
Or aught unjustly taken rests with me:
The servant of your God is now as bare
Of worldly substance, and as clean of hand,
As Jethro's shepherd was. I have no part:
'Tis yours to enter Canaan and possess;
I must stand here aloof, and with mine eyes
Range o'er the land from Gilead unto Dan;
All Ephraim and Manasseh and the realm
Of Judah, stretching to the utmost sea,
With Naphtali were giv'n me to behold:
I turn'd me to the south, and saw the plain
Of Jericho, low seated in the vale;
The city of the palm trees was display'd,
And unto Zoar my horizon stretch'd.
The Lord had said unto me—‘Thou shalt see
The land of promise, which I sware to give
To Abraham thy father and his seed;
But thou shalt not go over.’—To my God
What could I answer? Humbly I receiv'd
The awful interdiction, and behold!
My portion is the spot on which I tread;
Here ends my travel: death awaits me here.
Of nothing I will boast; 'twould ill become
God's servant, once the lowliest of the low,
To arrogate his glories to himself:
Yet, from the hour I brought your fathers forth
From Pharaoh's bondage even until now,
I've borne my office meekly, though not well;
For that weak pity, which a parent feels
For an offending son, I felt for them:
Therefore the great commission to transport
The sacred tabernacle of our God
Into the land of promise, whilst the stream
Of Jordan shall roll back to let it pass,
Justly of me is forfeited, and giv'n
To worthier than myself-Joshua, to thee,
To thee, in whom all Israel shall behold
Her legislator, leader and her judge.
And now, O nation, blessed shalt thou be
In every work, and in thy body's fruit,
Thy cattle and thy land, with plenty crown'd,
So thou wilt faithfully observe to keep
The statutes in the volume of the law,
Which I have this day lodg'd within the ark.
'Tis not conceal'd; thou hast not far to seek;
'Tis not in heav'n above, that thou should'st say,
Who will ascend and bring it down on earth?
'Tis not beyond the sea, that thou should'st ask
If any will attempt the distant search:
There needs no voyager to fetch that home,
Which hath not stirr'd abroad; no flight to heav'n
For what is in thine hand and in thine heart.
Therefore this day I tender to thy choice,
Life with all good, or death with all things ill.
Have I not warn'd thee o'er and o'er, and now
Again conjure thee with my dying breath,
To love, obey and serve the Lord thy God?
So shalt thou prosper, so shalt thou enjoy
A peaceful tenure in the happy land,
Which thou art now preparing to possess.
But mark me, Israel, if thine heart revolt,
And turn aside to other gods than Him,
Who is at once thy life and length of days,
Bear witness for me, heav'n and earth, thy doom
Shall be to perish: thou shalt not prolong
Thy days upon the land, but it shall be
A land of desolation and of plagues
To thee and to thy children. I have said;
And now no more: this earthly scene is pass'd;
The strength, which God inspir'd, is spent and gone,
And I, to whom the world's Creator told
His sev'n-days work, must render up my breath:
My ministry is finish'd; in thine hands,
Blest of the Lord, O Joshua! I have put
The book of life, and in thine arms expire.”
With humble acquiescence to receive
Gracious dismission from the Lord my God,
Who now hath number'd out my days on earth,
And, giving me to know my latter end,
Calls me away in his pre-destin'd time.
I murmur not, for I am full of years,
And willingly resign a toilsome life,
When He, who gave me labour, gives me rest.
I have not borrow'd of the public spoil;
Not for myself I've liv'd; when I am dead,
Search and examine if or ox or ass
Or aught unjustly taken rests with me:
422
Of worldly substance, and as clean of hand,
As Jethro's shepherd was. I have no part:
'Tis yours to enter Canaan and possess;
I must stand here aloof, and with mine eyes
Range o'er the land from Gilead unto Dan;
All Ephraim and Manasseh and the realm
Of Judah, stretching to the utmost sea,
With Naphtali were giv'n me to behold:
I turn'd me to the south, and saw the plain
Of Jericho, low seated in the vale;
The city of the palm trees was display'd,
And unto Zoar my horizon stretch'd.
The Lord had said unto me—‘Thou shalt see
The land of promise, which I sware to give
To Abraham thy father and his seed;
But thou shalt not go over.’—To my God
What could I answer? Humbly I receiv'd
The awful interdiction, and behold!
My portion is the spot on which I tread;
423
Of nothing I will boast; 'twould ill become
God's servant, once the lowliest of the low,
To arrogate his glories to himself:
Yet, from the hour I brought your fathers forth
From Pharaoh's bondage even until now,
I've borne my office meekly, though not well;
For that weak pity, which a parent feels
For an offending son, I felt for them:
Therefore the great commission to transport
The sacred tabernacle of our God
Into the land of promise, whilst the stream
Of Jordan shall roll back to let it pass,
Justly of me is forfeited, and giv'n
To worthier than myself-Joshua, to thee,
To thee, in whom all Israel shall behold
Her legislator, leader and her judge.
And now, O nation, blessed shalt thou be
In every work, and in thy body's fruit,
Thy cattle and thy land, with plenty crown'd,
424
The statutes in the volume of the law,
Which I have this day lodg'd within the ark.
'Tis not conceal'd; thou hast not far to seek;
'Tis not in heav'n above, that thou should'st say,
Who will ascend and bring it down on earth?
'Tis not beyond the sea, that thou should'st ask
If any will attempt the distant search:
There needs no voyager to fetch that home,
Which hath not stirr'd abroad; no flight to heav'n
For what is in thine hand and in thine heart.
Therefore this day I tender to thy choice,
Life with all good, or death with all things ill.
Have I not warn'd thee o'er and o'er, and now
Again conjure thee with my dying breath,
To love, obey and serve the Lord thy God?
So shalt thou prosper, so shalt thou enjoy
A peaceful tenure in the happy land,
Which thou art now preparing to possess.
But mark me, Israel, if thine heart revolt,
425
Who is at once thy life and length of days,
Bear witness for me, heav'n and earth, thy doom
Shall be to perish: thou shalt not prolong
Thy days upon the land, but it shall be
A land of desolation and of plagues
To thee and to thy children. I have said;
And now no more: this earthly scene is pass'd;
The strength, which God inspir'd, is spent and gone,
And I, to whom the world's Creator told
His sev'n-days work, must render up my breath:
My ministry is finish'd; in thine hands,
Blest of the Lord, O Joshua! I have put
The book of life, and in thine arms expire.”
He ceas'd, and instantly the hand of death
Press'd on his heart and stopp'd its vital pulse;
His eye-lids dropt upon their sightless balls:
One deep-drawn sigh dismiss'd his parting soul;
To heav'n it rose; his body sunk to earth,
And God's archangel guarded his remains.
Press'd on his heart and stopp'd its vital pulse;
His eye-lids dropt upon their sightless balls:
One deep-drawn sigh dismiss'd his parting soul;
To heav'n it rose; his body sunk to earth,
And God's archangel guarded his remains.
| The Exodiad, A Poem | |