The Poetical Works of Robert Montgomery Collected and Revised by the Author |
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THE MAN OF SIN. |
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 | The Poetical Works of Robert Montgomery |  |
THE MAN OF SIN.
And as the City, so the creed endures
Deathless in might, immortally depraved.
Her aspect alters—when her power is weak;
Her plans are soften'd—when her foes are strong;
Her practice gentle—when the Age requires;
But Rome, in principle, is Roman still
The changeless ever! for her creed is one;
And that is, to absorb the blinded world,
And on herself a faith almighty found
As truth infallible, or God divine!
Deathless in might, immortally depraved.
Her aspect alters—when her power is weak;
Her plans are soften'd—when her foes are strong;
Her practice gentle—when the Age requires;
But Rome, in principle, is Roman still
The changeless ever! for her creed is one;
And that is, to absorb the blinded world,
And on herself a faith almighty found
As truth infallible, or God divine!
And what a miracle of matchless force
She wielded, when the craven soul had sunk
Down to that level, which her creed demands!
Like to some vision of unearthly gloom
Shaped in the midnight of a dreaming brain,
By horror featured, doth Her sway emerge
From the gone ages, when the Gothic mind
Bow'd at her footstool, as the throne of God!
Two Worlds she claim'd; o'er both presumed to cast
The priestly shadows of Her sceptred power,
Moulding eternity, and mast'ring time!
Till in the glory of Satanic crime
Her mitred autocrat almighty grew
And challenged worship, such as God demands!
Heaven's attributes in libell'd form a Man
Did thus array: and when his frown grew black,
It shaded all things with submissive awe
And silence! On his lip creation hung;
The elements from him their course derived,
And plague, and pestilence, his law obey'd:
His names were natures! and those natures all
Ambition wanted, or his will decreed.
But when his excommunicating arm
Was lifted, Heaven that ireful threat revered!
And Hell, with all its agonies and glooms,
The motion watch'd: but when indeed it fell,
Empires turn'd pale, and palsied Kings recoil'd,
And sackeloth'd Nations trembled into tears!
She wielded, when the craven soul had sunk
Down to that level, which her creed demands!
Like to some vision of unearthly gloom
Shaped in the midnight of a dreaming brain,
By horror featured, doth Her sway emerge
From the gone ages, when the Gothic mind
Bow'd at her footstool, as the throne of God!
Two Worlds she claim'd; o'er both presumed to cast
The priestly shadows of Her sceptred power,
Moulding eternity, and mast'ring time!
Till in the glory of Satanic crime
Her mitred autocrat almighty grew
And challenged worship, such as God demands!
Heaven's attributes in libell'd form a Man
Did thus array: and when his frown grew black,
It shaded all things with submissive awe
And silence! On his lip creation hung;
The elements from him their course derived,
And plague, and pestilence, his law obey'd:
His names were natures! and those natures all
Ambition wanted, or his will decreed.
But when his excommunicating arm
Was lifted, Heaven that ireful threat revered!
And Hell, with all its agonies and glooms,
The motion watch'd: but when indeed it fell,
247
And sackeloth'd Nations trembled into tears!
Yet had this tyrant but the body cursed,
Made Cities mournful, or a province poor,
Or, tax'd the Passions for an income base,
Mankind were left some virtue, still, to save;
But Nature, in her sacred ark of strength
Where man is man when all besides decays,
The Pope, by impious sacrilege, profaned.
And dreader far than famine, fire, or sword,
Dungeons, and deaths, or all which martyr'd Flesh
Can suffer, is what outraged Conscience feels
When, like a moral suicide, the Man
Himself must abdicate, the will destroy,
And not a Person, but a Thing become!
Then rots the mind in servitude, and shame;
The faculty august of reason fades,
And blinded Nature grows a base machine
By craft inspired, to work a despot's will.
Made Cities mournful, or a province poor,
Or, tax'd the Passions for an income base,
Mankind were left some virtue, still, to save;
But Nature, in her sacred ark of strength
Where man is man when all besides decays,
The Pope, by impious sacrilege, profaned.
And dreader far than famine, fire, or sword,
Dungeons, and deaths, or all which martyr'd Flesh
Can suffer, is what outraged Conscience feels
When, like a moral suicide, the Man
Himself must abdicate, the will destroy,
And not a Person, but a Thing become!
Then rots the mind in servitude, and shame;
The faculty august of reason fades,
And blinded Nature grows a base machine
By craft inspired, to work a despot's will.
| The Poetical Works of Robert Montgomery | |