 | The Demon of Destiny |  |
93
RUMINATION.
Repress, oh! repress, irresponsible God,
The fears that are mine when the storms are abroad;
When nature's black mortcloth, night, mantles the earth;
When burghers sit cowering, yet safe, on the hearth;
When the stars are conceal'd, as if Providence then
Had shut all its eyes on the perils of men;
For lone in the trances of care and annoy
I see, as in vision, my venturesome boy.
The fears that are mine when the storms are abroad;
When nature's black mortcloth, night, mantles the earth;
When burghers sit cowering, yet safe, on the hearth;
When the stars are conceal'd, as if Providence then
Had shut all its eyes on the perils of men;
For lone in the trances of care and annoy
I see, as in vision, my venturesome boy.
He's far and forlorn in the aisles of the wood;
Around him is winter and hoar solitude;
Above, on a broken bough, frantic and fast,
Wild Danger swings headlong, defying the blast;
While, like an assassin, the flood on the ground
Is stealthily nearing, and nearing him round.
Around him is winter and hoar solitude;
Above, on a broken bough, frantic and fast,
Wild Danger swings headlong, defying the blast;
While, like an assassin, the flood on the ground
Is stealthily nearing, and nearing him round.
Sometimes the apocalypse dismaller looms.—
He sits by red embers more fearful than glooms—
The flap of the tempest provokes them to blaze—
And flames in his hovel devour and amaze,
Till hutless, dejected, he wanders away,
And lost in the forest, lies stiffen'd to clay.
Repress, oh! repress, irresponsible Heaven,
My fears for his fate that to Thee has been given.
He sits by red embers more fearful than glooms—
The flap of the tempest provokes them to blaze—
And flames in his hovel devour and amaze,
Till hutless, dejected, he wanders away,
And lost in the forest, lies stiffen'd to clay.
Repress, oh! repress, irresponsible Heaven,
My fears for his fate that to Thee has been given.
February 1, 1838.
| The Demon of Destiny | |