The works of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow illustrated : vol. IV : poetical works volume one : earlier poems : translations : The Spanish student and other poems |
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THE SOUL |
 | The works of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow |  |
THE SOUL
And is this education? This the training
Of an immortal spirit for the skies?
Would you, thus, teach it virtue, by restraining
Its heavenward aspirations till it dies?
Thus fit it, for a life beyond the grave,
By making it a helot and a slave
Of an immortal spirit for the skies?
Would you, thus, teach it virtue, by restraining
Its heavenward aspirations till it dies?
Thus fit it, for a life beyond the grave,
By making it a helot and a slave
To earth-born passions, and unholy lust,
And grovelling appetites? Oh! no. The soul,
Blazoned with shame, and foul with earthly dust,
And for an emblem bearing o'er the whole
The crafty serpent, not the peaceful dove,
Has no escutcheon for the courts above.
And grovelling appetites? Oh! no. The soul,
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And for an emblem bearing o'er the whole
The crafty serpent, not the peaceful dove,
Has no escutcheon for the courts above.
Why, then, prove false to Nature's noblest trust?
Why, thus, restrain the spirit's upward flight,
And make its dwelling in the loathsome dust,
Until “earth's shadow hath eclipsed its light”?
Why deck the flesh,—the sensual slave of sin,
And leave in rags the immortal guest within?
Why, thus, restrain the spirit's upward flight,
And make its dwelling in the loathsome dust,
Until “earth's shadow hath eclipsed its light”?
Why deck the flesh,—the sensual slave of sin,
And leave in rags the immortal guest within?
Beware! The Israelite of old, who tore
The lion in his path, when poor and blind,
He saw the blessed light of heaven no more,—
Shorn of his nobler strength, and forced to grind
In prison, and at times led forth to be
A pander to Philistine revelry,—
The lion in his path, when poor and blind,
He saw the blessed light of heaven no more,—
Shorn of his nobler strength, and forced to grind
In prison, and at times led forth to be
A pander to Philistine revelry,—
Destroyed himself, and with those that made
A cruel mockery of his sightless eyes!
So, too, the immortal soul, when once betrayed
To minister to lusts it doth despise,
A poor, blind slave—the scoff and jest of all,—
Expires,—and thousands perish in the fall!
A cruel mockery of his sightless eyes!
So, too, the immortal soul, when once betrayed
To minister to lusts it doth despise,
A poor, blind slave—the scoff and jest of all,—
Expires,—and thousands perish in the fall!
| The works of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow | |