University of Virginia Library


82

ODE XVI. THE PHILOSOPHY OF EVIL.

It was when dark November frown'd;—
Country and town alike were dreary;
Nothing was smiling all around,
Nought within cheary.
“Oh! for some pure ætherial sphere,
“To which no dregs of matter cling,
“Where flows serene th'all-perfect year,
“From mind's pure spring.”
It might not be—a Form I view—
Stern was his front, and fierce his eye;
His robe mix'd of November's hue,
On crimson dye.
Clamour, and Rage, and trembling Fear,
In grim wild state before him go;
And in his hand he couch'd a spear,
As towards some foe.

83

“Sing not to me,” he cried, “of loves;
“Sigh not to me in Pity's strains;
“Nor think to lure me to the groves,
“To pipe with swains.
“Different my joys—I traverse earth,
“I range thro' air, I pierce the sea;
“And every creature by its birth,
“Is bound to me.
“Each from me some strong instinct draws,
“Which towards its kin engenders strife;
“Birds, fishes, yielding to my laws,
“Prey upon life.
“Have you not heard in distant wood,
“How greedy beasts pursue their way?
“By turns, each drinks some creature's blood,
“By turns the prey.
“Have you not mark'd the busy world,
“Where reason forms its wisest plan!
“How man, by furious passions whirl'd,
“Preys upon man?
“'Tis mine—I stir the active thought,
“I rouse the passions, urge the deed;
“And there I feast, where thousands fought,
“And thousands bleed.

84

“'Midst storms and fires I sit and sing,
“Most pleas'd where least I see of form;
“I sail upon the whirlwind's wing,
“And guide the storm.
“When Ætna belches flame around,
“I gaze and gaze with greedy eye,
“Where cities, late with plenty crown'd,
“In ruins lie.
“Does ocean rave? I look and think
“Unruffled on the sounding shore,
“And rise with joy, as thousands sink,
“To rise no more.
“Do earthquakes growl beneath the land?
“I wait expectant of the sight;
“And grow, as earth's wide jaws expand,
“Wild with delight.
“Of life their babes when Hindoos spoil,
“The pious deed I loud proclaim,
“And of their widow's funeral pile,
“I light the flame.
“'Tis mine—all mine—I boast the deeds—
“And call myself the friend of man—
“'Tis mine—and see! the work proceeds—
“'Tis Nature's plan.

85

“On Man what crowding ills attend!
“See how creation pants for room!
“Ah! wretch—I haste, that wretch's friend,
“To build his tomb.