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SOMNIA CŒLI.
(January 1, 1863.)
Doom of Hate and of Darkness!
Dawn of Life and of Light!
Surely, 'twas God's fair Angel
Stood by my couch, last night.
Dawn of Life and of Light!
Surely, 'twas God's fair Angel
Stood by my couch, last night.
Looked on the careworn Creature,
Pitied the yearning Dust—
I slept the sleep of the Blesséd,
Dreamed the dreams of the Just.
Pitied the yearning Dust—
I slept the sleep of the Blesséd,
Dreamed the dreams of the Just.
O, griefs of our Infant Being,
O, earthly anguish and ills,
All at an end, and forever!—
I stood on the Happy Hills.
O, earthly anguish and ills,
All at an end, and forever!—
I stood on the Happy Hills.
The hills and the fields of Beulah
Fair in the Heavenly Sun!
Calm, and peace, and forgiveness—
Life and Death were at one.
Fair in the Heavenly Sun!
Calm, and peace, and forgiveness—
Life and Death were at one.
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Vale and forest grew dimmer,
Cliff gloomed purple and gray—
And slowly a night descended
More sweet than our sunniest day.
Cliff gloomed purple and gray—
And slowly a night descended
More sweet than our sunniest day.
But far in the lost horizon,
Through the Outer Darkness whirled
A vast and a wretched Shadow—
Methought, 'twas this our world.
Through the Outer Darkness whirled
A vast and a wretched Shadow—
Methought, 'twas this our world.
Ah, the gloom and the horror!
For the Powers of Air had met—
And the spears of Dawn and of Death-Ec
In deadly battle were set.
For the Powers of Air had met—
And the spears of Dawn and of Death-Ec
In deadly battle were set.
Smoke, and shudder, and torment!
Crash, and rending, and wrack!—
And if ever the Light seemed gaining,
The Dark still trampled it back.
Crash, and rending, and wrack!—
And if ever the Light seemed gaining,
The Dark still trampled it back.
Had I passed the Shining Portal,
Which the Lovelier Land doth keep?
Ah, nay!—for these eyes were mortal,
And they could not choose but weep.
Which the Lovelier Land doth keep?
Ah, nay!—for these eyes were mortal,
And they could not choose but weep.
But, lifting the lids of anguish,
I was 'ware, by the waning light,
Of a grand and a holy Presence,
Calm and strong, in my sight.
I was 'ware, by the waning light,
Of a grand and a holy Presence,
Calm and strong, in my sight.
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Grace, and gladness, and splendor!
Pity, 'mid power and pride!—
(Yet, methought, more truly tender
A dimmer Form at his side,
Lovely, pallid, and slender,
Sweetly and sadly eyed.)
Pity, 'mid power and pride!—
(Yet, methought, more truly tender
A dimmer Form at his side,
Lovely, pallid, and slender,
Sweetly and sadly eyed.)
And the glorious Lips bespake me,
With a smile, as half in mirth,
Questioning—what the trouble
Wearies thee, Child of Earth!
With a smile, as half in mirth,
Questioning—what the trouble
Wearies thee, Child of Earth!
What thereto could I answer?
What but, with sigh and tear—
All, alas, is so wretched there!
All is so happy here!
What but, with sigh and tear—
All, alas, is so wretched there!
All is so happy here!
But again the word was taken—
Therefore art thou forlorn?
How dreamest thou what the angels,
In their earthly day, have borne?
Therefore art thou forlorn?
How dreamest thou what the angels,
In their earthly day, have borne?
How weary their earlier way,
While yon half-made orb they trod—
The blinder reason, the dimmer ray,
The ruder working of God.
While yon half-made orb they trod—
The blinder reason, the dimmer ray,
The ruder working of God.
For 'tis raised, the tempest of trouble,
(Though seeming judgment or curse,)
Of the infinite Love and Pity—
And ever to thwart a worse.
(Though seeming judgment or curse,)
Of the infinite Love and Pity—
And ever to thwart a worse.
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The whirl, the crash, and the ruin,
(Much though it seem to thee,)
Is naught but a broken toy of earth
To the horror that else should be!
(Much though it seem to thee,)
Is naught but a broken toy of earth
To the horror that else should be!
Were it better, the Lord's fair Garden
Of its fruitage forever fail—
That a growth of drowsy venom
Still fester for slug and snail—
Or that Crime, the monstrous Mandrake,
Be rooted with shriek and wail?
Of its fruitage forever fail—
That a growth of drowsy venom
Still fester for slug and snail—
Or that Crime, the monstrous Mandrake,
Be rooted with shriek and wail?
That Hell, unchallenged forever,
Craze yon Sphere-Soul past doubt—
Or Earth, possessed of her Demon,
Be rent in the casting out?
Craze yon Sphere-Soul past doubt—
Or Earth, possessed of her Demon,
Be rent in the casting out?
Hereon 'twere idle to linger.
True, that offence must come—
Woe, ah woe to the bringer!
(But the gentler Shade was dumb.)
True, that offence must come—
Woe, ah woe to the bringer!
(But the gentler Shade was dumb.)
He spake—but shadow and thunder
Swept o'er the unhappy sphere—
And a low, dull throb thereunder
Trembled on heart and ear—
Swept o'er the unhappy sphere—
And a low, dull throb thereunder
Trembled on heart and ear—
A hollow, heavy pulsation,
As from filling of trench and grave—
And a deeper ululation
Up through the dark did wave—
The moan of a Mother-Nation
For her darling and her brave.
As from filling of trench and grave—
And a deeper ululation
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The moan of a Mother-Nation
For her darling and her brave.
Ever from earth ascended
The thrill and shudder of pain—
When shall thy grief be ended,
O Earth?—and I wept again.
The thrill and shudder of pain—
When shall thy grief be ended,
O Earth?—and I wept again.
Is it ever of woe and anguish
That the better world is born?
Ever a night of dreadful dream
Must cradle the Holy Morn?
That the better world is born?
Ever a night of dreadful dream
Must cradle the Holy Morn?
Thus I mourned and lamented,
With the wearied heart of a child,
'Feared, lest never the day should dawn—
But again the Presence smiled,
With the wearied heart of a child,
'Feared, lest never the day should dawn—
But again the Presence smiled,
And again, as in cheer, he spake—
Aye, ever yon Cradle-Sphere
Is rudely rocked ere the Earth-Soul wake—
But another rule is here,
And a Morn of joy no shadow may break
But 'tokens a happier Year.
Aye, ever yon Cradle-Sphere
Is rudely rocked ere the Earth-Soul wake—
But another rule is here,
And a Morn of joy no shadow may break
But 'tokens a happier Year.
And therewith pleaded the Other—
Is it so unhappy then,
To die for God and for Mother,
Rendering the soul like men?
Is it so unhappy then,
To die for God and for Mother,
Rendering the soul like men?
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Is it grievous, weapon in hand
For Faith and the Holy Name,
To pass, in strength, to the wondrous Land,
By the Portal of Steel and Flame?
For Faith and the Holy Name,
To pass, in strength, to the wondrous Land,
By the Portal of Steel and Flame?
Thunder, to-day, at the Outer Gate!
Earth's eager squadrons form—
The daring spirits that could not wait
Are taking Heaven by storm!
Earth's eager squadrons form—
The daring spirits that could not wait
Are taking Heaven by storm!
The splendor of battle in their eyes,
They enter, even now—
How it lights the Port of Paradise,
The death-gleam on each brow!
They enter, even now—
How it lights the Port of Paradise,
The death-gleam on each brow!
The fire on the wan cheek flickered,
The form was in act to fleet—
Yet again the Voice made murmur,
(It was strangely low and sweet,)
Not thine, as yet, even here, to mark
How Life and Death may meet.
The form was in act to fleet—
Yet again the Voice made murmur,
(It was strangely low and sweet,)
Not thine, as yet, even here, to mark
How Life and Death may meet.
Nor mine, to-night, to whisper
The word could set thee free—
They faded, the mighty Brothers,
As Twin-Clouds fade o'er the sea—
Yet murmured still, in their going,
Peace, O mortal, with thee!
Sleep, and dream the salvation
Thine eyes, the morn, shall see.
The word could set thee free—
They faded, the mighty Brothers,
As Twin-Clouds fade o'er the sea—
Yet murmured still, in their going,
Peace, O mortal, with thee!
Sleep, and dream the salvation
Thine eyes, the morn, shall see.
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And therewith peace waved o'er me—
The mighty morning broke,
From fevered slumber and guilty dream
The Land, in wonder, woke—
It rocked and rang to the noblest Word
Ever a mortal spoke!
The mighty morning broke,
From fevered slumber and guilty dream
The Land, in wonder, woke—
It rocked and rang to the noblest Word
Ever a mortal spoke!
Though these our changes and choices
But falter the Will Divine,—
Of all the infinite voices
That throng to the Central Shrine,
None, O father, rejoices
Heaven, to the heart, like thine!
But falter the Will Divine,—
Of all the infinite voices
That throng to the Central Shrine,
None, O father, rejoices
Heaven, to the heart, like thine!
A touch from the Unseen Finger,
Lo, they kindle, the lips of clay—
Ah, for a worthier singer!—
Joy thee, O earth!—to-day,
(Though awhile it seem to linger,)
The Shadow passes—for aye!
Lo, they kindle, the lips of clay—
Ah, for a worthier singer!—
Joy thee, O earth!—to-day,
(Though awhile it seem to linger,)
The Shadow passes—for aye!
Thy murky Shroud to the Gone shall sweep
On the wings of the Thunder-Gale—
The Share of the Lord is driving deep,
But blossom nor fruit shall fail.
On the wings of the Thunder-Gale—
The Share of the Lord is driving deep,
But blossom nor fruit shall fail.
And now, come wrath and reviling!
Let the Crime rave as it can,
With the yelp of pettier treason,
The caitiff cursing and ban—
We know that a God is in Heaven,
We know that Earth has a Man!
Let the Crime rave as it can,
With the yelp of pettier treason,
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We know that a God is in Heaven,
We know that Earth has a Man!
Let them gloat, the ravined Nations,
Scenting our blood through the dark,
(As his fellows glare 'mid the salt-sea,
Ere they tear at a wounded shark.)
Scenting our blood through the dark,
(As his fellows glare 'mid the salt-sea,
Ere they tear at a wounded shark.)
Let it gnash, the rage and the menace,
And the gnarring, o'er and o'er,
Like a mangled Wolf's, from out yon gloom—
Telling, as time afore,
Murder doth not go to the doom
Without a Death-Shrill the more!
And the gnarring, o'er and o'er,
Like a mangled Wolf's, from out yon gloom—
Telling, as time afore,
Murder doth not go to the doom
Without a Death-Shrill the more!
Come, battle of stormiest breath,
O'er meadow and hill-side brown
The long lines sweeping up to death,
'Mid thunder from trench and town—
The victor cheer, or the martyr faith
For Right and for God's Renown!
O'er meadow and hill-side brown
The long lines sweeping up to death,
'Mid thunder from trench and town—
The victor cheer, or the martyr faith
For Right and for God's Renown!
And come, the shock and the shudder!
The dull and heavy heart-pain,
The watch, the woe, and the waiting—
Once more, like the summer's rain,
Pour thy dear blood, beloved Land!—
Never a drop is in vain!
The dull and heavy heart-pain,
The watch, the woe, and the waiting—
Once more, like the summer's rain,
Pour thy dear blood, beloved Land!—
Never a drop is in vain!
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And never in vain, our brothers!
That dark December's day,
For the Truth, and for hope to others,
By slope and by trench ye lay—
That dark December's day,
For the Truth, and for hope to others,
By slope and by trench ye lay—
Lay, through the long night's damp,
On a lost and fatal field;
But a stronger Line, and a vaster Camp
To your noble charge did yield.
On a lost and fatal field;
But a stronger Line, and a vaster Camp
To your noble charge did yield.
Did we deem 'twas woe and pity
That there, in your flower, ye died?
Ah, fond!—the Celestial City
Her Portal fair flung wide.
That there, in your flower, ye died?
Ah, fond!—the Celestial City
Her Portal fair flung wide.
The mighty Avenue surges—
For, to-day, doth enter in
An Army of victor souls and strong,
Sublimed, through fire, from sin.
For, to-day, doth enter in
An Army of victor souls and strong,
Sublimed, through fire, from sin.
And their ranks form deep for escort,
The holy and valiant Throng
Erst risen, through storm and battle,
Guarding the Good 'gainst Wrong.
The holy and valiant Throng
Erst risen, through storm and battle,
Guarding the Good 'gainst Wrong.
The Colors ye bore in vain that day
Yet wave o'er Heaven's Recruits—
And are trooped by Aidenn's starriest Gate,
While the Flaming Sword salutes!
Yet wave o'er Heaven's Recruits—
And are trooped by Aidenn's starriest Gate,
While the Flaming Sword salutes!
January, 1863.
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