 | Poems |  |
253
IT SHOULD NOT BE, AND SHALL NOT.
My soul! — eternal soul!—that still shouldst look beyond the grave,
Nor trust thy priceless freight of hopes to the world's unstable wave!
Thou that shouldst, in thy rushing might, with the royal eagle spring,
Still strengthening, by a thousand flights, thy strong tempestuous wing!—
Shouldst thou haunt earth's unlovely wastes and wildernesses hoary—
Forsaking all heaven's outstretched realms of melody and glory?
Realms where the blight shall never come—the thunderbolt shall fall not!
My soul! eternal soul!—away!—It should not be, and shall not!
Nor trust thy priceless freight of hopes to the world's unstable wave!
Thou that shouldst, in thy rushing might, with the royal eagle spring,
Still strengthening, by a thousand flights, thy strong tempestuous wing!—
Shouldst thou haunt earth's unlovely wastes and wildernesses hoary—
Forsaking all heaven's outstretched realms of melody and glory?
Realms where the blight shall never come—the thunderbolt shall fall not!
My soul! eternal soul!—away!—It should not be, and shall not!
254
Wake from thy perilous trance—O, wake! it cannot be too late!
Be the eagle still thy strong compeer, and the morning-star thy mate;
Be thou led by quenchless beacons still, which waver not, and sink not;
And, charioted on sweeping clouds, which faulter not and shrink not!
Lean thou on the everlasting rocks, which the earthquake's crash shall shake not,
And be thou knit to nobler strength by the cords which bind and break not!
Thou shouldst not spurn those golden cords, which strengthen and enthral not—
Thou shouldst not shrink from heaven's light yoke!—It should not be, and shall not!
Be the eagle still thy strong compeer, and the morning-star thy mate;
Be thou led by quenchless beacons still, which waver not, and sink not;
And, charioted on sweeping clouds, which faulter not and shrink not!
Lean thou on the everlasting rocks, which the earthquake's crash shall shake not,
And be thou knit to nobler strength by the cords which bind and break not!
Thou shouldst not spurn those golden cords, which strengthen and enthral not—
Thou shouldst not shrink from heaven's light yoke!—It should not be, and shall not!
O, shouldst thou heap dark treasure-piles in sanctuaries of dust—
To leave but for the worm and moth, and the annihilating rust,—
And like a weight of mountains e'en on thy labouring strength to lie,—
Bartering for Care's corroding stores—the sunshine of the sky?
It should not be! O, thou shouldst hoard rich treasures which decay not—
Immortal treasures, pure and deep, which dazzle and dismay not.
It should not be! O, thou shouldst seek those pleasures bright, which pall not!
It should not be! reply, my soul!—It should not be, and shall not!
To leave but for the worm and moth, and the annihilating rust,—
255
Bartering for Care's corroding stores—the sunshine of the sky?
It should not be! O, thou shouldst hoard rich treasures which decay not—
Immortal treasures, pure and deep, which dazzle and dismay not.
It should not be! O, thou shouldst seek those pleasures bright, which pall not!
It should not be! reply, my soul!—It should not be, and shall not!
Such inextinguishable hope — pure faith — meek worth — be thine,
That thou mayst calmly view thy westering star of fate decline—
That thy memory o'er life's lengthening wastes and bewildering tracks still hovering,
May exult in speechless thankfulness, not one dark stain discovering.
My soul! thou shouldst not nurse wild thoughts in a pround and reckless hour!
Back they return — the avengers of their own perverted power!
Back they return — those blighting thoughts, which fain thou wouldst recall not!
And should this be? It must not be—it should not be, and shall not!
That thou mayst calmly view thy westering star of fate decline—
That thy memory o'er life's lengthening wastes and bewildering tracks still hovering,
May exult in speechless thankfulness, not one dark stain discovering.
256
Back they return — the avengers of their own perverted power!
Back they return — those blighting thoughts, which fain thou wouldst recall not!
And should this be? It must not be—it should not be, and shall not!
Shouldst thou stoop thy soaring pride to love, and bear its burthening chains—
(Dark love! for ever grief and fear demonstrate where it reigns!)—
Shouldst thou, with all thy worlds of might, be rocked upon a breath?
My soul! undying soul!—whose strength should mock the strength of death!
Shouldst thou make a worship frail and wild of a fading aspect here—
Forgetting all the Beautiful of thine own immortal sphere?
No! thou shalt not tremble at a sigh, a glance shall thee enthral not!
It scarce could be! O, shame of shames!—It should not be, and shall not!
(Dark love! for ever grief and fear demonstrate where it reigns!)—
Shouldst thou, with all thy worlds of might, be rocked upon a breath?
My soul! undying soul!—whose strength should mock the strength of death!
Shouldst thou make a worship frail and wild of a fading aspect here—
Forgetting all the Beautiful of thine own immortal sphere?
257
It scarce could be! O, shame of shames!—It should not be, and shall not!
Shouldst thou dwell in cold forgetfulness of those awful truths sublime,
That make a pilgrimage of life, a shadowy pass of time?
Shouldst thou prize alone earth's glittering gifts, the poor, the vain, the frail,
That at thy darkened hour of need shall melt away and fail?
Ah! shall Conscience even in agony of conquering triumph reign,
And in the majesty of wrath! the sovereign might of pain—
O'erwhelming thee with terrors—thee, whom the world's crush should appal not—
It may not be, it must not be!—It should not be, and shall not!
That make a pilgrimage of life, a shadowy pass of time?
Shouldst thou prize alone earth's glittering gifts, the poor, the vain, the frail,
That at thy darkened hour of need shall melt away and fail?
Ah! shall Conscience even in agony of conquering triumph reign,
And in the majesty of wrath! the sovereign might of pain—
O'erwhelming thee with terrors—thee, whom the world's crush should appal not—
It may not be, it must not be!—It should not be, and shall not!
258
Shouldst thou reap the thousand blessings o'er thy lengthened journeyings showered,
Nor melt into thanksgivings—thou, the illumed! the upraised! the dowered?
Shouldst thou turn from many a bursting spring—from many a scattered treasure
Of gladdening hope—of strengthening trust—of pure and priceless pleasure?
Shouldst thou waste with spendthrift-thoughtlessness the ne'er-returning Time —
That lightning-pinioned messenger from heaven's far empyreal clime!
That awful, dread possession, in which worlds can reinstall not—
O, should this be? hear, Heaven and Earth!—It should not be, and shall not!
Nor melt into thanksgivings—thou, the illumed! the upraised! the dowered?
Shouldst thou turn from many a bursting spring—from many a scattered treasure
Of gladdening hope—of strengthening trust—of pure and priceless pleasure?
Shouldst thou waste with spendthrift-thoughtlessness the ne'er-returning Time —
That lightning-pinioned messenger from heaven's far empyreal clime!
That awful, dread possession, in which worlds can reinstall not—
O, should this be? hear, Heaven and Earth!—It should not be, and shall not!
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