 | The Poetical Works of Horace Smith |  |
98
THE SUN'S ECLIPSE.
—July 8th, 1842.
'Tis cloudless morning, but a frown misplaced,
Cold—lurid—strange,
The summer smile from Nature's brow hath chased.
What fearful change,
What menacing catastrophe is thus
Usher'd by such prognostics ominous?
Cold—lurid—strange,
The summer smile from Nature's brow hath chased.
What fearful change,
What menacing catastrophe is thus
Usher'd by such prognostics ominous?
Is it the light of day, this livid glare,
Death's counterpart:—
What means the withering coldness in the air
That chills my heart,
And what the gloom portentous that hath made
The glow of morning a funereal shade?
Death's counterpart:—
What means the withering coldness in the air
That chills my heart,
And what the gloom portentous that hath made
The glow of morning a funereal shade?
99
O'er the Sun's disc a dark orb wins its slow
Gloom-deep'ning way,
Climbs—spreads—enshrouds—extinguishes—and lo!
The god of day
Hangs in the sky, a corpse! th' usurper's might
Hath storm'd his throne, and quench'd the life of light!
Gloom-deep'ning way,
Climbs—spreads—enshrouds—extinguishes—and lo!
The god of day
Hangs in the sky, a corpse! th' usurper's might
Hath storm'd his throne, and quench'd the life of light!
A pall is on the earth—the screaming birds
To covert speed;
Bewilder'd and aghast, the bellowing herds
Rush o'er the mead;
While men, pale shadows in the ghastly gloom,
Seem spectral forms just risen from the tomb.
To covert speed;
Bewilder'd and aghast, the bellowing herds
Rush o'er the mead;
While men, pale shadows in the ghastly gloom,
Seem spectral forms just risen from the tomb.
Transient, tho' total was that drear eclipse:
With might restored
The Sun re-gladden'd earth—but human lips
Have never pour'd
In mortal ears the horrors of the sight
That thrill'd my soul that memorable night.
With might restored
The Sun re-gladden'd earth—but human lips
Have never pour'd
In mortal ears the horrors of the sight
That thrill'd my soul that memorable night.
100
To every distant zone and fulgent star
Mine eyes could reach,
And the wide waste was one chaotic war;
O'er all and each,
Above—beneath—around me—everywhere,
Was anarchy—convulsion—death—despair.
Mine eyes could reach,
And the wide waste was one chaotic war;
O'er all and each,
Above—beneath—around me—everywhere,
Was anarchy—convulsion—death—despair.
'Twas noon, and yet a deep unnatural night
Enshrouded Heaven,
Save where some orb unsphered, or satellite
Franticly driven,
Glared as it darted through the darkness dread,
Blind—rudderless—uncheck'd—unpiloted.
Enshrouded Heaven,
Save where some orb unsphered, or satellite
Franticly driven,
Glared as it darted through the darkness dread,
Blind—rudderless—uncheck'd—unpiloted.
A thousand simultaneous thunders crash'd,
As here and there
Some rushing planet 'gainst another dash'd,
Shooting thro' air
Volleys of shatter'd wreck, when, both destroy'd,
Founder'd and sank in the engulphing void.
As here and there
Some rushing planet 'gainst another dash'd,
Shooting thro' air
Volleys of shatter'd wreck, when, both destroy'd,
Founder'd and sank in the engulphing void.
101
Others, self-kindled, as they whirl'd and turn'd
Without a guide,
Burst into flames, and rushing as they burn'd
With range more wide,
Like fire-ships that some stately fleet surprise,
Spread havoc thro' the constellated skies.
Without a guide,
Burst into flames, and rushing as they burn'd
With range more wide,
Like fire-ships that some stately fleet surprise,
Spread havoc thro' the constellated skies.
While stars kept falling from their spheres—as tho'
The heavens wept fire,
Earth was a raging hell of war and woe
Most deep and dire,
Virtue was vice—vice virtue—all was strife,
Brute force was law—justice th' assassin's knife.
The heavens wept fire,
Earth was a raging hell of war and woe
Most deep and dire,
Virtue was vice—vice virtue—all was strife,
Brute force was law—justice th' assassin's knife.
From that fell scene my space-commanding eye
Glad to withdraw,
I pierced th' empyrean palace of the sky
And shudd'ring saw
A vacant throne—a sun's extinguish'd sphere,
All else a void—dark, desolate, and drear.
Glad to withdraw,
I pierced th' empyrean palace of the sky
And shudd'ring saw
A vacant throne—a sun's extinguish'd sphere,
All else a void—dark, desolate, and drear.
102
“What mean,” I cried, “these sights unparallel'd,
These scenes of fear?”
When lo! a voice replied, and Nature held
Her breath to hear,
“Mortal, the scroll before thine eyes unfurl'd,
Displays a soul eclipse—an atheist world.”
These scenes of fear?”
When lo! a voice replied, and Nature held
Her breath to hear,
“Mortal, the scroll before thine eyes unfurl'd,
Displays a soul eclipse—an atheist world.”
I woke—my dream was o'er! What ecstacy
It was to know
That God was guide and guardian of the sky,
That man below
Deserved the love I felt—I could not speak
The thrilling joy, whose tears were on my cheek!
It was to know
That God was guide and guardian of the sky,
That man below
Deserved the love I felt—I could not speak
The thrilling joy, whose tears were on my cheek!
| The Poetical Works of Horace Smith | |