 | My Mind and its Thoughts, in Sketches, Fragments, and Essays |  |
232
MORTAL AND IMMORTAL.
ADDRESSED TO ONE UNDER THE SOLICITUDE OF DOUBT.
Yes! Man is mortal! round that open brow,
Which, like the arch of promise, heaven reflected,
Speaks THE ETERNAL MIND; even there, the dull
Cold dews of death will hover, and those eyes,
Whose lustre seems an ever living ray
Of loveliness, and glory, soft pleading
With look of eloquence, they too must fade
And falter, languid in extinguished beauty.
That voice, which like the harp of angels, thrills
With no earthly strain, shall cease to vibrate,
Or age—oblivious age—more hard than death,
Shedding its late destruction, will chill
The heart's fine fervour, even round the rare
And radiant gem of genius, droop
With an uncheerly shade, mouldering to dust
And dark annihilation—age, in whose hour
Man, the blest image of benignant heaven,
He, whose majestic front and powerful form,
Looked a descended God, the good, the wise,
Shall rest unhallowed; with every featured charm
That waked the gaze, or warmed the pulse of passion,
Lost, and delightless—save, where unquiet,
Still the phantom memory comes musing,
Or hovering as a dream o'er past existence.
Thus speaks
The fading world—not thus the plighted friend,
Who, won and valued at life's blushing dawn,
Still while its setting sun, through many a cloud,
Gleams o'er the furrowed path, will love its slow
And mild declining, and still gaze enamoured
On the parting lustre, ere calm it sink
Beneath time's boundless ocean.
Shall ye
Not rest together? and together rise
On other worlds with renovated beams,
Unsevered, undiminished?
Which, like the arch of promise, heaven reflected,
Speaks THE ETERNAL MIND; even there, the dull
Cold dews of death will hover, and those eyes,
Whose lustre seems an ever living ray
Of loveliness, and glory, soft pleading
With look of eloquence, they too must fade
And falter, languid in extinguished beauty.
That voice, which like the harp of angels, thrills
With no earthly strain, shall cease to vibrate,
Or age—oblivious age—more hard than death,
Shedding its late destruction, will chill
The heart's fine fervour, even round the rare
And radiant gem of genius, droop
With an uncheerly shade, mouldering to dust
And dark annihilation—age, in whose hour
Man, the blest image of benignant heaven,
He, whose majestic front and powerful form,
Looked a descended God, the good, the wise,
Shall rest unhallowed; with every featured charm
That waked the gaze, or warmed the pulse of passion,
Lost, and delightless—save, where unquiet,
Still the phantom memory comes musing,
Or hovering as a dream o'er past existence.
Thus speaks
The fading world—not thus the plighted friend,
Who, won and valued at life's blushing dawn,
Still while its setting sun, through many a cloud,
Gleams o'er the furrowed path, will love its slow
And mild declining, and still gaze enamoured
233
Beneath time's boundless ocean.
Shall ye
Not rest together? and together rise
On other worlds with renovated beams,
Unsevered, undiminished?
Grows the heart sad in cold doubt pondering
O'er life's vain promise—death's dread mystery?
Yet say! THOU SON OF IMMORTALITY!
Lives there not ONE, whom thy charmed thought can claim,
One ever faithful friend? whom the hard earth,
With poor adversity's unpitied wrongs,
And envy's blighting breath, and falsehood's wile,
And flattery's vain allurement, ne'er knew
To change, nor triumphed to divide—neither
Shall death disjoin—but rather to some star's
Enlightening orb, where the All seeing eye
Beams blessings infinite—adoring still,
The re-united spirit will ascend,
Waked by the kindling voice of seraphim.
O'er life's vain promise—death's dread mystery?
Yet say! THOU SON OF IMMORTALITY!
Lives there not ONE, whom thy charmed thought can claim,
One ever faithful friend? whom the hard earth,
With poor adversity's unpitied wrongs,
And envy's blighting breath, and falsehood's wile,
And flattery's vain allurement, ne'er knew
To change, nor triumphed to divide—neither
Shall death disjoin—but rather to some star's
Enlightening orb, where the All seeing eye
Beams blessings infinite—adoring still,
The re-united spirit will ascend,
Waked by the kindling voice of seraphim.
Of God and loved are they, the true in heart,
Those solitary wanderers of the earth,
On whom were closed her haunts of happiness;
But their's the heritage and home of heaven,
With full oblivion of the ills they bore,
Patient and plaintless, from a sinning world,
Which on the guileless sufferer flings its glance,
And calls perdition, justice.
Those solitary wanderers of the earth,
On whom were closed her haunts of happiness;
But their's the heritage and home of heaven,
With full oblivion of the ills they bore,
Patient and plaintless, from a sinning world,
Which on the guileless sufferer flings its glance,
And calls perdition, justice.
| My Mind and its Thoughts, in Sketches, Fragments, and Essays | |