 | The path of sorrow, or, the lament of youth |  |
THE RETROSPECT.
“I was a lovely tree in thy presence, Oscar, with all my branches round me; but thy death came like a blast from the desert, and laid my green head low: the spring returned with its showers, but no leaf of mine arose.”
Ossian.I.
I am now, not what I have been, in youth!The light which first awoke me, glimmers now,
To shine no more!—the starlight which I made
My banquet, and the sunbeam which my soul
Did seek as nutriment, has faded!—yea,
Has gone! The heavens are the same, but they are
Not the same to me;—the earth, which was to
Me, a landscape ever new, is as it
Was, but not the same to me;—the georgeous
Blue, through which the heavens, and the glory
Of the Lord was seen, is as it was, but not
As it was once to me;—the velvet lawn—
The gravelled walk—the poplar avenue,—
Through which I made my walk,—is as it was;
But it is not so dear to me;—the earth,
With all its grandeur, and the mount, on which
I sent my eagle eye, to bring my soul
Its nourishment, are as they were; but not
The same to me!—The hills, the dales, the groves,
The lordly oak, beneath the which, I mused,
When in my childhood dawn—and all, supreme,
Divine, and glorious to behold, when
In the embryo of life, have faded—
Lost their lustre! and the bright effulgence
Of my domil sun has veiled his beams; while
Chaos and confusion flits before mine
Eyes. What am I now?—I am a blight! I
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Ills, of most enormous kind!—I am changed!
I am a spectre of what I have been!
The cynosure which led my bark upon
The ocean of my life, has sunk her beams
Beneath the polar cloud! what am I now?—
A vineyard, like that fenced in days of yore,
Which brought no fruit—exposed to all the beasts
Of earth, and fowls of heaven!—yea, like that
Beastly King of old, my dreams are many;—
Till, my chamber has become an alcove
For the watchers of the sky! and in my
Bed, at midnight of my sleep, I people
Worlds, and dream unnumbered things; till silence
Wakes from lethargy, and shocks my burning
Brain,—with this, go, arise and hew him down.
II.
The beams of God's effulgence, fired me then,But they shall lure my soul no more—'tis done!
The vast, untired ocean of his love, has
Rolled its last alluring wave! The stifled groan,
Which laved the shore on which I sat, and saw
Created charms grow bright—where I beheld
Jehovah in the morning sun, and drunk
His glory in the evening mist—has sunk
Into a calm! and all his beams, so pure,
Inefiable and great—pountraying in
A ray, the image of his face, evoked
Beyond a cloud of ills—beyond my view.
But be it so. What I behold, is through
The orrery of tears! my sports—my glee,
My childhood feats—my youth is gone from me!
The horizon of my soul which beamed so
Bright, has felt the lowering clouds of winter
Seize it, with a frost of wo and sorrow.
My noon-day sky—my mid-day sun has been
Evoked to God! yea, turned their joyful beams
Up to his mighty throne. Into the golden
Sea of glory, they have pondered; and that
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Has run into the ocean tide of heaven.
II.
Like the lost Pleiade from its silver train—Torn from the orb in which it rolled its years
To heaven—so am I torn, to run no more!
From that frequented path, wherein Jehovah
Marked my tread, I have eloped—I wander!
The wild and wilderness of earth, I roam!
I seek no shelter from the whirls and rains
Of heaven—so let it be. But there is that
Within my heart which shall endure, till life
Shall wallow in the dust! and it shall fill
The members of my home with all that glow
Of emulation, which first woke my heart,
And took possession of my soul—to war
With the cupidity of earth and hell!
My soul has drunk the sunbeams of the Lord,
Which doth inspirit me to war with grief!
There is a something in my soul, which holds
An enmity with revalry and ire!
It is a godly spark, of which the mouth
Can never speak! There is a thrill which moves
My own existence—vivifies my heart,
And rolls its clear, diurnal tide, into
The ocean of omnipotence and love!
It is my being—'tis my life and sense;
It shall endure the shock of earth-born fate,
And live throughout the tide of human years.
Throughout the vast septennial of the Lord,
This shall remain an era, ever new.
It shall remain my monumental shrine.
The hills, the dales and brooks—the very grove
In which I sung my boyhood symphony—
The very lawn from whence I sent my vows
To heaven—the day, the hour, and the very
Time—and all pertaining to my youth, now
Clothe them with the panoply of truth—yea,
Stand as heaven's votaries, to swear, I am
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Of memory, which awoke my heart to tones
Of new born melody—so pleasing to my life,
And so magnificient for little man;
Before the all-perceiving eye of Him,
Whose vast, immortal mind now bids, and shall
Forever bid defiance to earth's space!
IV.
Where am I now? hear me, heaven! all alone!Alone I am—I am a wanderer! My
Nature doth evoke me to the lonely
Wilderness, wherein the voice of human
We shall never enter—where it shall cease
To echo to my ear! where am I? hear
Me, my God! Have I not done as human
Creatures do? hear me, Jehovah! for, in
The tideless sea, where thy immensity
Must roll, I cast my anchor. For, unto
Thee, my soul has sent its last expiring
Invocation! hear me, my Father! for
Thou hast built creation with thy hands. Thy
Wasteless rock, which hell's foul thunders cannot
Shake, shall bear the pillows of thy throne. My
Soul is drunk with thy omnipotence. There
Seems to be, within my very life, a
Longing after immortality, in love.
There is an ideal something in my soul,
Which swells my bosoms lord nigh bursting! what
Is it?—from the very morning when I
Woke a child of sorrow, I have espoused
The cause of nature; and I love the world—
Not that I feel adhesivess for man—
For sinful man! but, there is a glory
In its contemplation, which pervades my
Very being. There is a fixedness,
Undaring purpose in my heart, which time,
With all her multitude of ills, shall not
Eradicate. The basis of my heart—
The center of my being—shall remain
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Of heaven! It shall endure, though hell, with all
Her panoplied and plumed array, consign
Me to their grief. And whence this glorious
Thought—this steadfast purpose of my soul?
In my obedience to the changeless laws
Of that omnipotence, which weigh hell's
Impudence in heaven's scales, and pays the world
The patrimony that it reaps. Unto
That vast, unfettered glory, which awaits
Created man, my soul has sought its home.
Unto that hidden region of content,
Where heaven's chaplet stands divine, in glory
Bright—where that mysterious love, so good,
So pure, inessable and great, convokes
Mankind in heart and soul, to reach themselves
Beyond subordination—I have built
Myself a citadel—a fabric, which
Shall vie with long eternity in age.
It shall endure—hear me, heaven! thou hast made
Me what I am; and thou hast been to me,
A righteous father; let me reach my thought
Above this middle degradation! let
Me pour my melody to thee, and thee
Alone; for thou, my Father, hast sustained me
In disease and health! supported me
In all the vast sublimity of grief!
And can'st thou here escape the tribute which
I owe, for thy unprecedented love!
For I am what I am, by thy great law.
My soul is but a handful of thy love—
That rectified divinity which rolls
Within the grasp of thy infinity!
Which thou hast scattered on the earth, to show
Thy glory and thy matchless might. And now,
My God! if words, with warmth and gratitude,
Can adumbrate to thee, my soul! a spark
Of thine—I humbly sacrifice my life
Upon the altar of thy love!—then, take
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I claim on earth—my youth has suffered much—
My fearless soul is drunk to last forever.
| The path of sorrow, or, the lament of youth | |