The poetical works of Samuel Rogers with a memoir by Edward Bell |
 |
 |
|
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. | CANTO XII.
A VISION. |
|
|
 | The poetical works of Samuel Rogers |  |
84
CANTO XII. A VISION.
Still would I speak of Him before I went,
Who amongus a life of sorrow spent,
And, dying, left a world his monument;
Still, if the time allowed! My Hour draws near;
But He will prompt me when I faint with fear.
... Alas, He hears me not! He cannot hear!
Who amongus a life of sorrow spent,
And, dying, left a world his monument;
Still, if the time allowed! My Hour draws near;
But He will prompt me when I faint with fear.
... Alas, He hears me not! He cannot hear!
Twice the Moon filled her silver urn with light.
Then from the Throne an Angel winged his flight;
He, who unfixed the compass, and assigned
O'er the wild waves a pathway to the wind;
Who, while approached by none but Spirits pure,
Wrought, in his progress thro' the dread obscure,
Signs like the ethereal bow—that shall endure!
Then from the Throne an Angel winged his flight;
He, who unfixed the compass, and assigned
O'er the wild waves a pathway to the wind;
Who, while approached by none but Spirits pure,
Wrought, in his progress thro' the dread obscure,
Signs like the ethereal bow—that shall endure!
As he descended thro' the upper air,
Day broke on day as God himself were there!
Before the great Discoverer, laid to rest,
He stood, and thus his secret soul addressed.
Day broke on day as God himself were there!
Before the great Discoverer, laid to rest,
He stood, and thus his secret soul addressed.
“The wind recalls thee; its still voice obey.
Millions await thy coming; hence, away.
To thee blest tidings of great joy consigned,
Another Nature, and a new Mankind!
The vain to dream, the wise to doubt shall cease;
Young men be glad, and old depart in peace!
Hence! tho' assembling in the fields of air,
Now, in a night of clouds, thy Foes prepare
To rock the globe with elemental wars,
And dash the floods of ocean to the stars;
To bid the meek repine, the valiant weep,
And Thee restore thy Secret to the Deep!
Millions await thy coming; hence, away.
To thee blest tidings of great joy consigned,
85
The vain to dream, the wise to doubt shall cease;
Young men be glad, and old depart in peace!
Hence! tho' assembling in the fields of air,
Now, in a night of clouds, thy Foes prepare
To rock the globe with elemental wars,
And dash the floods of ocean to the stars;
To bid the meek repine, the valiant weep,
And Thee restore thy Secret to the Deep!
“Not then to leave Thee! to their vengeance cast,
Thy heart their aliment, their dire repast!
Thy heart their aliment, their dire repast!
To other eyes shall Mexico unfold
Her feathered tapestries, and roofs of gold,
To other eyes, from distant cliff descried,
Shall the Pacific roll his ample tide;
There destined soon rich argosies to ride.
Chains thy reward! beyond the Atlantic wave
Hung in thy chamber, buried in thy grave!
Thy reverend form to time and grief a prey,
A spectre wandering in the light of day!
Her feathered tapestries, and roofs of gold,
To other eyes, from distant cliff descried,
Shall the Pacific roll his ample tide;
There destined soon rich argosies to ride.
Chains thy reward! beyond the Atlantic wave
Hung in thy chamber, buried in thy grave!
Thy reverend form to time and grief a prey,
A spectre wandering in the light of day!
86
“What tho' thy grey hairs to the dust descend,
Their scent shall track thee, track thee to the end;
Thy sons reproached with their great father's fame,
And on his world inscribed another's name!
That world a prison-house, full of sights of woe,
Where groans burst forth, and tears in torrents flow!
These gardens of the sun, sacred to song,
By dogs of carnage, howling loud and long,
Swept—till the voyager, in the desert air,
Starts back to hear his altered accents there!
Their scent shall track thee, track thee to the end;
Thy sons reproached with their great father's fame,
And on his world inscribed another's name!
That world a prison-house, full of sights of woe,
Where groans burst forth, and tears in torrents flow!
These gardens of the sun, sacred to song,
By dogs of carnage, howling loud and long,
Swept—till the voyager, in the desert air,
Starts back to hear his altered accents there!
“Not thine the olive, but the sword to bring,
Not peace, but war! Yet from these shores shall spring
Peace without end; from these, with blood defiled,
Spread the pure spirit of thy Master mild!
Here, in His train, shall arts and arms attend,
Arts to adorn, and arms but to defend.
Assembling here, all nations shall be blest;
The sad be comforted; the weary rest;
Untouched shall drop the fetters from the slave;
And He shall rule the world He died to save!
Not peace, but war! Yet from these shores shall spring
Peace without end; from these, with blood defiled,
Spread the pure spirit of thy Master mild!
Here, in His train, shall arts and arms attend,
Arts to adorn, and arms but to defend.
Assembling here, all nations shall be blest;
The sad be comforted; the weary rest;
Untouched shall drop the fetters from the slave;
And He shall rule the world He died to save!
“Hence, and rejoice. The glorious work is done.
A spark is thrown that shall eclipse the sun!
And, tho' bad men shall long thy course pursue,
As erst the ravening brood o'er chaos flew,
He, whom I serve, shall vindicate his reign;
The spoiler spoiled of all; the slayer slain;
The tyrant's self, oppressing and opprest,
Mid gems and gold unenvied and unblest;
While to the starry sphere thy name shall rise,
(Not there unsung thy generous enterprise!)
Thine in all hearts to dwell—by Fame enshrined
With those, the Few, that live but for Mankind;
Thine evermore, transcendent happiness!
World beyond world to visit and to bless.”
87
And, tho' bad men shall long thy course pursue,
As erst the ravening brood o'er chaos flew,
He, whom I serve, shall vindicate his reign;
The spoiler spoiled of all; the slayer slain;
The tyrant's self, oppressing and opprest,
Mid gems and gold unenvied and unblest;
While to the starry sphere thy name shall rise,
(Not there unsung thy generous enterprise!)
Thine in all hearts to dwell—by Fame enshrined
With those, the Few, that live but for Mankind;
Thine evermore, transcendent happiness!
World beyond world to visit and to bless.”
| The poetical works of Samuel Rogers | |