 | The Poetical Works of Robert Montgomery |  |
REFLECTIVE STANZAS.
There is a sadness in my soul,
But whence, and why, I cannot tell;
As though a Spirit's dark control
Had bound it with a deadening spell.
But whence, and why, I cannot tell;
As though a Spirit's dark control
Had bound it with a deadening spell.
The sun wears not that glorious brow
Poetic morns were wont to bring;
And many a wind which mourneth now,
A song of rapture used to sing.
Poetic morns were wont to bring;
And many a wind which mourneth now,
A song of rapture used to sing.
For all my summer-glow of thought
Hath sadden'd into wintry gloom;
And much that Fancy shaped or sought
Lies buried in oblivion's tomb.
Hath sadden'd into wintry gloom;
And much that Fancy shaped or sought
Lies buried in oblivion's tomb.
Yet, dream not that I nurse the grief
Which discontented moments bring;
Or sullen gloom, whose sole relief
Comes flowing from a bitter spring.
Which discontented moments bring;
Or sullen gloom, whose sole relief
Comes flowing from a bitter spring.
For human hearts, where'er they breathe,
Have still their human charm for me:
I would not bind a selfish wreath
Without one bud of sympathy!
Have still their human charm for me:
I would not bind a selfish wreath
Without one bud of sympathy!
Then let me not a mournfulness
From clouds of hidden sorrow steal;
Nor wring from thee a vain distress
A bosom soft as thine would feel.
From clouds of hidden sorrow steal;
Nor wring from thee a vain distress
A bosom soft as thine would feel.
A scene of sunshine and of gloom,
Like human life my page will be;
And, mutter'd o'er our mortal doom,
Will sound a dark Soliloquy!
Like human life my page will be;
And, mutter'd o'er our mortal doom,
Will sound a dark Soliloquy!
Thou wilt not deem such verse supplied
By superstition's haggard gaze;
Nor think that Fancy's wing hath tried
To wander in forbidden ways.
By superstition's haggard gaze;
Nor think that Fancy's wing hath tried
To wander in forbidden ways.
Who paints His beauty on the cloud,
Or smileth on the breezy shore,
Or wraps Him in a whirlwind-shroud
Or speaketh in the thunder-roar,
Or smileth on the breezy shore,
Or wraps Him in a whirlwind-shroud
Or speaketh in the thunder-roar,
That Power, the visionless and dread,
In words where inspirations dwell,
By His almightiness hath said,
Earth wears a shadow cast from Hell!
In words where inspirations dwell,
By His almightiness hath said,
Earth wears a shadow cast from Hell!
The Spirits and the Powers of air
In mystery and in might they roam;
Unseen they act, unknown they dare,
And make the evil heart their home.
In mystery and in might they roam;
Unseen they act, unknown they dare,
And make the evil heart their home.
And One, their centre and their soul
There is; the demon-god of sin
Who o'er the wicked hath control
And fires the hell we feel within.
There is; the demon-god of sin
Who o'er the wicked hath control
And fires the hell we feel within.
And such a Wanderer o'er the earth
The viewless Power I've dared to draw;
And mentally have given birth
To all he felt, and all he saw:
The viewless Power I've dared to draw;
And mentally have given birth
To all he felt, and all he saw:
To each avenging throe of thought
That might so dread a Spirit thrill,
With hateful ruin ever fraught,—
Yet blasted and believing still!
That might so dread a Spirit thrill,
With hateful ruin ever fraught,—
Yet blasted and believing still!
Thus Virtues are as Heaven reveal'd,
And Love and Truth eternal shown;
While whatsoe'er the Tempter wield,
Is darkly hued, and stamp'd his own.
And Love and Truth eternal shown;
While whatsoe'er the Tempter wield,
Is darkly hued, and stamp'd his own.
Nor marvel thou, if scenery bright
And beautiful by Nature made,
If sight and sound that yield delight,
Are in elysian charm array'd:
And beautiful by Nature made,
If sight and sound that yield delight,
Are in elysian charm array'd:
For who can bliss or beauty know
Like him, a Rebel from the skies,
Who, though his doom be endless wo,
Hath witness'd all pure Angels prize?
Like him, a Rebel from the skies,
Who, though his doom be endless wo,
Hath witness'd all pure Angels prize?
613
And such the matter of my verse
Whate'er its fate or force may be,—
Inwoven with the primal curse,
But, hailing immortality.
Whate'er its fate or force may be,—
Inwoven with the primal curse,
But, hailing immortality.
An awful maze for human Mind!
And enter'd with a holy fear;
God of my sires! where I am blind,
Descend, and make Thy glory clear.
And enter'd with a holy fear;
God of my sires! where I am blind,
Descend, and make Thy glory clear.
How darkly-bound this scene of life,
How dread the mysteries of time,
And all our being's passion-strife
With things unholy and sublime,
How dread the mysteries of time,
And all our being's passion-strife
With things unholy and sublime,
I ever felt:—and deeply now,
As o'er the page my fancies steal,
My spirit seems in awe to bow
Beneath a Sense the bravest feel.
As o'er the page my fancies steal,
My spirit seems in awe to bow
Beneath a Sense the bravest feel.
The wings of Darkness are unfurl'd,
The Earth lies hush'd, as in her grave;
And all the sound that thrills the world
The rocking of yon midnight-wave!
The Earth lies hush'd, as in her grave;
And all the sound that thrills the world
The rocking of yon midnight-wave!
Who hath not own'd such tragic hour,
The sadness, and the dream it brings,
Solemnity and spirit-power
Reflected from Eternal Things?
The sadness, and the dream it brings,
Solemnity and spirit-power
Reflected from Eternal Things?
O'er time and destiny we weave
Our inward-fancies, thick and fast;
And start to see, how moments leave
The present, to begin the past!
Our inward-fancies, thick and fast;
And start to see, how moments leave
The present, to begin the past!
And we, my friend, howe'er our doom
Of life and years may varied be,
Must pierce the dampness of the tomb
And mingle with eternity.
Of life and years may varied be,
Must pierce the dampness of the tomb
And mingle with eternity.
And what art Thou?—The dark Unknown
Thy name to mortals bound and blind;
Yet like a faint-heard mystic tone
Thy meaning hovers o'er my mind.
Thy name to mortals bound and blind;
Yet like a faint-heard mystic tone
Thy meaning hovers o'er my mind.
I see Thee in the vigil-star,
I hear Thee in the muttering Deep;
And, like a feeling from afar,
Thy Shadow riseth o'er my sleep:
I hear Thee in the muttering Deep;
And, like a feeling from afar,
Thy Shadow riseth o'er my sleep:
Thou comest where the witching power
Of festive hearts alone should be,
Till life itself appears an hour
That flutters o'er eternity!
Of festive hearts alone should be,
Till life itself appears an hour
That flutters o'er eternity!
Away with this! and may I feel
Whatever cloud o'erhang my lot
There is a joy Time cannot steal,
There blooms a flower which fadeth not.
Whatever cloud o'erhang my lot
There is a joy Time cannot steal,
There blooms a flower which fadeth not.
And might I doom my future days,
Like thee, I'd seek some calm retreat
Unhaunted by the public gaze,
And only to the pensive sweet.
Like thee, I'd seek some calm retreat
Unhaunted by the public gaze,
And only to the pensive sweet.
For nobler far thy noiseless life
Than all the gayer World can give;
Whose best reward's a wretched strife
'Tween fear to die, and hate to live!
Than all the gayer World can give;
Whose best reward's a wretched strife
'Tween fear to die, and hate to live!
I see thee oft, my guardian friend,
Companion of the mead and bower,—
What glories from the hills descend,
What meekness flows from every flower!
Companion of the mead and bower,—
What glories from the hills descend,
What meekness flows from every flower!
To thee, the hymn of winds and brooks,
The waving joy of wood and field,
With all fresh Nature's thousand looks,
A love and holy feeling yield.
The waving joy of wood and field,
With all fresh Nature's thousand looks,
A love and holy feeling yield.
And long be thine the unruffled hour
That leaves thee guiltless as thou art;
And never may one evil power
Profane the heaven within thy heart.
That leaves thee guiltless as thou art;
And never may one evil power
Profane the heaven within thy heart.
Thus, blooming shall thy pleasures last,
And leave thee grateful, calm, and sage;
While Memory, smiling o'er the past,
Shall be the vesper-star of age.
And leave thee grateful, calm, and sage;
While Memory, smiling o'er the past,
Shall be the vesper-star of age.
And when mysterious time is o'er
And round my soul are scenes divine,
Oh, may it reach th' Eternal Shore
As placid and as pure as thine!
And round my soul are scenes divine,
Oh, may it reach th' Eternal Shore
As placid and as pure as thine!
| The Poetical Works of Robert Montgomery | |