 | The poems and prose writings of Sumner Lincoln Fairfield |  |
“Thou breathless Mocker of the humble mind!
Thou Idol Image of remorseless power!
Shall being, quickened by the glowing blood,
In worship bow to thee, a sculptured block?
Shall intellect, illumed and magnified,
Whose home is ether, whose immortal hope
Is deathless glory, render unto thee
The adoration of the Deity?
Oh, how should men be just when they have throned
Amid the universe, o'erswaying all,
A supreme vengeance—demon deified?
Whose common and commended deeds would crown
A mortal with the curses of the world,
And round him spread a solitude of hate
Haunted alone by grovelling infamies!
Well wast thou fabled—son of Earth and Time!
For all impurities and ills are thine,
Transformed despoiler! e'en thy votaries mock
Yet mimic thee, as well they may, the work
Of their own lusts! Canst thou call forth one star
Of all that blossom in the boundlessness
Of that undying heaven unknown to thee?
Will Mazzaroth or Mythra soar or sink?
Or terrible behemoth leave his depths?
Or the proud desert bird feel nature's love?
Because thou bidst? doth thine own eagle fear
The power men quail at? or the tempest float
Along Olympus, hurling arrowy fires,
In reverence to thy hest? yet why is this?
Methinks, I wander back to Pagan faith,
Thus questioning the hewn marble, which portrays
The apotheosis of man's worst revenge!
Beneath the unimaged, unimagined God,
Who hath no temple but infinity,
Where the great multitude of stars adore,
Flying along their glorious spheres—I stand
Here in thy home, (it fits thy nature well,)
And, without awe or exultation, dare
Deny thee incense, prayer, love, fear and faith!”
Thou Idol Image of remorseless power!
Shall being, quickened by the glowing blood,
In worship bow to thee, a sculptured block?
Shall intellect, illumed and magnified,
Whose home is ether, whose immortal hope
Is deathless glory, render unto thee
The adoration of the Deity?
Oh, how should men be just when they have throned
Amid the universe, o'erswaying all,
A supreme vengeance—demon deified?
Whose common and commended deeds would crown
A mortal with the curses of the world,
And round him spread a solitude of hate
Haunted alone by grovelling infamies!
Well wast thou fabled—son of Earth and Time!
For all impurities and ills are thine,
Transformed despoiler! e'en thy votaries mock
Yet mimic thee, as well they may, the work
Of their own lusts! Canst thou call forth one star
Of all that blossom in the boundlessness
Of that undying heaven unknown to thee?
Will Mazzaroth or Mythra soar or sink?
Or terrible behemoth leave his depths?
Or the proud desert bird feel nature's love?
Because thou bidst? doth thine own eagle fear
The power men quail at? or the tempest float
Along Olympus, hurling arrowy fires,
In reverence to thy hest? yet why is this?
Methinks, I wander back to Pagan faith,
Thus questioning the hewn marble, which portrays
The apotheosis of man's worst revenge!
Beneath the unimaged, unimagined God,
Who hath no temple but infinity,
Where the great multitude of stars adore,
Flying along their glorious spheres—I stand
Here in thy home, (it fits thy nature well,)
139
Deny thee incense, prayer, love, fear and faith!”
| The poems and prose writings of Sumner Lincoln Fairfield | |