 | Diana's Looking Glass and Other Poems by Charles D. Bell |  |
THE PROPHET'S WAIL.
“WHO HATH BELIEVED OUR REPORT?”
Oh, give me not the Prophet's voice,
Oh, save me from the open'd eye,
Let others in the gift rejoice,
And pass me, God, oh, pass me by;
I would not see beyond the hour.
Let coming days be wrapp'd in gloom,
Give others if they will, the power,
But let not mine be such a doom.
Oh, save me from the open'd eye,
Let others in the gift rejoice,
And pass me, God, oh, pass me by;
46
Let coming days be wrapp'd in gloom,
Give others if they will, the power,
But let not mine be such a doom.
'Tis but a curse the truth to know,
And have no spell to turn the fate
Seen coming with its weight of woe,
While I in impotence must wait;
No! blind me—let the present day
Hedge me about, and close mine eyes,
And from the future let no ray
Flash on my sight to make me wise.
And have no spell to turn the fate
Seen coming with its weight of woe,
While I in impotence must wait;
No! blind me—let the present day
Hedge me about, and close mine eyes,
And from the future let no ray
Flash on my sight to make me wise.
There burns a fire before mine eyes,
And sounds of wrath ring in mine ears,
Dread visions oft before me rise,
That scorch my cheeks with scalding tears:
Let others speak, they may be heard,
Before their words the guilty quail,
The trembling conscience may be stirr'd,
And many a harden'd face grow pale.
And sounds of wrath ring in mine ears,
Dread visions oft before me rise,
That scorch my cheeks with scalding tears:
Let others speak, they may be heard,
Before their words the guilty quail,
The trembling conscience may be stirr'd,
And many a harden'd face grow pale.
For all men mock when I forewarn,
My dark forebodings they deride,
They laugh my prophet-wail to scorn
And lightly put my words aside;
'Tis anguish that I have no power
To change the doom I see must fall,
The storms will burst, that o'er men lower,
In vain for pity's sake I call.
My dark forebodings they deride,
They laugh my prophet-wail to scorn
And lightly put my words aside;
47
To change the doom I see must fall,
The storms will burst, that o'er men lower,
In vain for pity's sake I call.
None will believe my solemn word,
None from my lips receive the truth,
It is as though they had not heard,
They have no wisdom, grace, or ruth;
Oh, do not then my mind illume,
The Seer's vision brings but pain,
Thy gift, O God, at once resume,
And give me back the darken'd brain.
None from my lips receive the truth,
It is as though they had not heard,
They have no wisdom, grace, or ruth;
Oh, do not then my mind illume,
The Seer's vision brings but pain,
Thy gift, O God, at once resume,
And give me back the darken'd brain.
| Diana's Looking Glass and Other Poems by Charles D. Bell | |