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THE TRIUMPH OF THE SPIRITUAL OVER THE SENSUAL.
AN ALLEGORY.
Near a being on the verge of manhood,
In a waking vision, I behold
Two fair figures,—one is lowly kneeling,
At his feet, with loosen'd locks of gold,
Down her white, half-veilèd bosom, stealing,
O'er her warm cheek, in soft tresses, roll'd,
Link'd with many a burning gem, revealing
Radiant colors through each silken fold.
In a waking vision, I behold
Two fair figures,—one is lowly kneeling,
At his feet, with loosen'd locks of gold,
Down her white, half-veilèd bosom, stealing,
O'er her warm cheek, in soft tresses, roll'd,
Link'd with many a burning gem, revealing
Radiant colors through each silken fold.
One soft, dimpled hand uplifts a chalice,
Richly chased, and starr'd with rubies rare,
While the other points towards a palace,
Rising like a dream upon the air!
Wild blue eyes, where passion blends with malice,
Red, ripe lips,—Temptation triumphs there!
Or if thence the tried heart proudly rallies,
In her form, voluptuously fair,
Grace, so tenderly alluring, dallies,
With her captive, that he loves the snare.
Loose her gorgeous robe, her feet are bare!—
Thus the charmer sings, with wooing air,—
Richly chased, and starr'd with rubies rare,
While the other points towards a palace,
Rising like a dream upon the air!
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Red, ripe lips,—Temptation triumphs there!
Or if thence the tried heart proudly rallies,
In her form, voluptuously fair,
Grace, so tenderly alluring, dallies,
With her captive, that he loves the snare.
Loose her gorgeous robe, her feet are bare!—
Thus the charmer sings, with wooing air,—
Taste the goblet! beauteous mortal!
Quickly taste, and fly with me!
Yonder gleams the golden portal
Of a mansion made for thee.
There will Pleasure's downy pillow
Woo thee to luxurious rest;
There will Trouble's stormy billow
Never fret thy charmèd breast!
Beauty there shall bless the hours,
Flitting by on balmy wing;
Joy shall bind thy brow with flowers;
Hope of new delights shall sing.
Drain the goblet! beauteous mortal!
Quickly drain! and fly with me!
Yonder gleams the radiant portal
Of the mansion wrought for thee!
From his trance of rapture, wildly waking,
Lo! the lost, infatuated boy,
Flush'd with hope, the fatal chalice taking,
Bends to quaff,—his ruin, in his joy!
Hark! those tones, melodiously breaking
O'er his soul, the sinful spell destroy!
Quickly taste, and fly with me!
Yonder gleams the golden portal
Of a mansion made for thee.
There will Pleasure's downy pillow
Woo thee to luxurious rest;
There will Trouble's stormy billow
Never fret thy charmèd breast!
Beauty there shall bless the hours,
Flitting by on balmy wing;
Joy shall bind thy brow with flowers;
Hope of new delights shall sing.
Drain the goblet! beauteous mortal!
Quickly drain! and fly with me!
Yonder gleams the radiant portal
Of the mansion wrought for thee!
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Lo! the lost, infatuated boy,
Flush'd with hope, the fatal chalice taking,
Bends to quaff,—his ruin, in his joy!
Hark! those tones, melodiously breaking
O'er his soul, the sinful spell destroy!
Turning now, he sees a veilèd vision,
That has stood beside him all the while;
Beauty dawning, with a light elysian,
Through the snowy gauze, as morning's smile
Glows and glistens 'neath her wreathèd mist,
All the lovelier for that shade, I wist.
That has stood beside him all the while;
Beauty dawning, with a light elysian,
Through the snowy gauze, as morning's smile
Glows and glistens 'neath her wreathèd mist,
All the lovelier for that shade, I wist.
Veil'd from head to foot,—her fair arms folding
With a sweet composure on her breast,
And a cross of pearl, serenely holding
In her hand, with tender reverence press'd:
With a sweet composure on her breast,
And a cross of pearl, serenely holding
In her hand, with tender reverence press'd:
One soft-gleaming star, amid the braiding
Of her raven hair, her brow illumes;
Beautiful, exceedingly, the shading
Of the rose, that on her pure cheek blooms!
Of her raven hair, her brow illumes;
Beautiful, exceedingly, the shading
Of the rose, that on her pure cheek blooms!
Like the music-fall of water playing,
Freshly in the burning summer-tide,
With delicious melody, allaying
All his feverish ecstasy and pride—
Freshly in the burning summer-tide,
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All his feverish ecstasy and pride—
Thrilling, low, unutterably sweet,
Came her pure, soft tones, with angel pleading,
While his heart to each clear cadence beat,
Quick, in glad reply, all else unheeding.
Came her pure, soft tones, with angel pleading,
While his heart to each clear cadence beat,
Quick, in glad reply, all else unheeding.
Boy, refrain! the poison, breathing
From the goblet, clouds thy soul!
Lo! the golden serpent, wreathing
Round the brim with glittering roll,
Emblem of the death within,
Know'st thou not it tempts to sin?
From the goblet, clouds thy soul!
Lo! the golden serpent, wreathing
Round the brim with glittering roll,
Emblem of the death within,
Know'st thou not it tempts to sin?
Boy, beware! I may not offer
Joy unearn'd by toil of thine;
Wealth, with lock'd and laden coffer,
Luxury's pillow are not mine.
But if thou, with trust confiding,
High and fervent walk with me,
Holiest comfort—peace abiding,
Thine thro' trials dark, shall be!
Like the mystic steps in air,
That th' Egyptian pupil trod,
Fast as one wish fades, a higher
Shall but lead thee nearer God!
Joy unearn'd by toil of thine;
Wealth, with lock'd and laden coffer,
Luxury's pillow are not mine.
But if thou, with trust confiding,
High and fervent walk with me,
Holiest comfort—peace abiding,
Thine thro' trials dark, shall be!
Like the mystic steps in air,
That th' Egyptian pupil trod,
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Shall but lead thee nearer God!
Boy, be mine! beneath our feet
Desert wastes shall bloom with flowers,
Sorrow's self shall seem most sweet,
While Hope's rainbow lights her showers.
Desert wastes shall bloom with flowers,
Sorrow's self shall seem most sweet,
While Hope's rainbow lights her showers.
Troops of angels, only known
By their choral music-tide,
(Ebb and flow) with softest tone,
Shall beside thee viewless glide!
By their choral music-tide,
(Ebb and flow) with softest tone,
Shall beside thee viewless glide!
Every warbler of the wild-wood
On its voice shall waft thy soul,
Back thro' all the dreams of childhood,
To the Heaven-home whence it stole.
On its voice shall waft thy soul,
Back thro' all the dreams of childhood,
To the Heaven-home whence it stole.
From each blossom Spring shall bring thee
Some sweet lesson thou'lt command,
Even the winding shell shall sing thee
Echoes from the spirit-land!
Some sweet lesson thou'lt command,
Even the winding shell shall sing thee
Echoes from the spirit-land!
Glory waits thee, glad immortal!
Take thy cross and go with me!
Stars shall light the viewless portal
Of the mansion made for thee!
Take thy cross and go with me!
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Of the mansion made for thee!
Softly, with that last word, died away
Voice and vision, from my dreaming sense;
But the youth rose, ere she closed the lay,
And with eyes illumed by thought intense,
Placed his hand in hers, that she should lead him thence.
Voice and vision, from my dreaming sense;
But the youth rose, ere she closed the lay,
And with eyes illumed by thought intense,
Placed his hand in hers, that she should lead him thence.
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