 | Lays of Melpomene |  |
THE SPIRIT.
The spirit cannot die; it must dilate
Eternally, and be a vital part
Of everlasting ages—knitted close
To absolute infinity and linked
With the immensity of fate—'tis just
It should be deathless, for its plastic powers
No limit know nor bound, e'er shining through
Creation like the sun; but, oh, the heart
Will prey upon its energies and prove
A mountain on its wings, for subtle thought
Is but the slave of feeling, and the soul
Will languish when the bosom aches and be
The vassal of locality, depressed
By poor contingencies and habitudes.
The desecration is most vile and yet
Life's feeble purposes demand the use
Of powers almost angelic, for the soul
Is like the sun, though stationed in the skies,
It must look down on earth and light alike
Things beautiful and loathsome. Be it so!
Shall man be querulous and dare impugn
What Deity hath warranted and done?
Eternally, and be a vital part
Of everlasting ages—knitted close
To absolute infinity and linked
With the immensity of fate—'tis just
It should be deathless, for its plastic powers
No limit know nor bound, e'er shining through
Creation like the sun; but, oh, the heart
Will prey upon its energies and prove
A mountain on its wings, for subtle thought
Is but the slave of feeling, and the soul
Will languish when the bosom aches and be
The vassal of locality, depressed
By poor contingencies and habitudes.
The desecration is most vile and yet
Life's feeble purposes demand the use
Of powers almost angelic, for the soul
Is like the sun, though stationed in the skies,
46
Things beautiful and loathsome. Be it so!
Shall man be querulous and dare impugn
What Deity hath warranted and done?
Spirits of greatness have human form
And feature, like the veriest thing that gropes
And grovels in base idiocy; they pass
Before the world as other mortal shapes,
And though the eye may beam unusually,
The brow wear deeper lines of thought intense
Than others, and the glow and gloom of hope,
The sunlight and the darkness of the soul
Vary the changeful feature, and the tread
Be more unequal and the outward bearing
More plainly intellectual than the step
And look of the great mass, yet deeply dwells,
Unseen, impalpable, the living beam
Of star-eyed light that issued from the sun
Of the Divinity; and, unbeheld
By creatures of most ordinary note,
Beings pass by in silence or they stand
Apart, in general estimation thought
Of minor consequence, on vacant air
Dwelling or veiling their soul-beaming eyes
From things external, that the soul may close
The portals of its palace and retire
To holy counsel with itself—who are
More fitting glory and would wear the robes
Of angels more to nature than the shapes
Mortality has burdened them withal.
And feature, like the veriest thing that gropes
And grovels in base idiocy; they pass
Before the world as other mortal shapes,
And though the eye may beam unusually,
The brow wear deeper lines of thought intense
Than others, and the glow and gloom of hope,
The sunlight and the darkness of the soul
Vary the changeful feature, and the tread
Be more unequal and the outward bearing
More plainly intellectual than the step
And look of the great mass, yet deeply dwells,
Unseen, impalpable, the living beam
Of star-eyed light that issued from the sun
Of the Divinity; and, unbeheld
By creatures of most ordinary note,
Beings pass by in silence or they stand
Apart, in general estimation thought
Of minor consequence, on vacant air
Dwelling or veiling their soul-beaming eyes
From things external, that the soul may close
The portals of its palace and retire
To holy counsel with itself—who are
More fitting glory and would wear the robes
Of angels more to nature than the shapes
Mortality has burdened them withal.
Such Spirits fill the universe—they live
In the blue ether and their dwelling-place
Is the immensity above; they sit
Upon the thrones of angels in the stars
And hold converse with them when gentle night
The gay earth canopies and nature folds
Her moonlight drapery round her and lies down
By bright Hyperion's side to bridal sleep.
This world of sin they labour to forget
And all its crimes and woes, and they become
Associates with the blest in pure desires
And feelings holy; and they love to tread
The verge of paradise though mortal yet,
Seeking to know the loves that blossom there,
The joys that never fade in those bright fields,
The thoughts of bliss expanding ever through
The pauseless ages of unceasing love.
Such spirits find no thoughts reciprocal
In earthly beings; none can estimate
Their greatness rightly; none can feel the same
Dissolving and absorption of all powers
In soft elysian visionry—they live
Alone, star-beams round the sun-throne of God!
In the blue ether and their dwelling-place
Is the immensity above; they sit
Upon the thrones of angels in the stars
And hold converse with them when gentle night
The gay earth canopies and nature folds
47
By bright Hyperion's side to bridal sleep.
This world of sin they labour to forget
And all its crimes and woes, and they become
Associates with the blest in pure desires
And feelings holy; and they love to tread
The verge of paradise though mortal yet,
Seeking to know the loves that blossom there,
The joys that never fade in those bright fields,
The thoughts of bliss expanding ever through
The pauseless ages of unceasing love.
Such spirits find no thoughts reciprocal
In earthly beings; none can estimate
Their greatness rightly; none can feel the same
Dissolving and absorption of all powers
In soft elysian visionry—they live
Alone, star-beams round the sun-throne of God!
The sovereign eagle ever dwells alone
In solitary majesty, and waves
His mighty wings in air unbreathed by thing
Of lowlier nature; and the lion walks
The wilderness companionless, and holds
No converse with the creatures that surround
His monarch pathway; so the angel soul,
The seraph spirit lives in loneliness
Proud and unbending, and its solitude
Becomes its empire where it reigns fore'er
In might and majesty.—But when 't is chained
Down in the world's cold dungeon, and is mocked
By gazing folly and unholy guile,
And taunted by the reptile hordes around,
Madness springs up within the brain and flares
In deadly fury from the eye and whelms
The spirit prostrate which could be subdued
Only by its own potent strength;—the high
Aspiring intellect doth spurn the poor
Malice of insect nothingness and lives
Or dies only because it wills it so.
The boundless universe with all its worlds
Of stars and suns is but a narrow path
For the immortal spirit; one bright glance
Of the soul's eye pervades all space and flies
Beyond the farthest reckoning of the sage
Who reads the heavens; the winged thought sublime
Wanders unresting through creation's worlds
And searches all their glorious beauties, till
Yet unsatisfied, it would rove through realms
E'en angels know not of, when some keen pang,
O'erwhelming want or weakness murders thought,
And brings the almighty spirit down to earth,
And all its chilling woe and bitterness.
In solitary majesty, and waves
His mighty wings in air unbreathed by thing
Of lowlier nature; and the lion walks
The wilderness companionless, and holds
No converse with the creatures that surround
His monarch pathway; so the angel soul,
The seraph spirit lives in loneliness
Proud and unbending, and its solitude
Becomes its empire where it reigns fore'er
In might and majesty.—But when 't is chained
Down in the world's cold dungeon, and is mocked
By gazing folly and unholy guile,
And taunted by the reptile hordes around,
Madness springs up within the brain and flares
In deadly fury from the eye and whelms
The spirit prostrate which could be subdued
Only by its own potent strength;—the high
Aspiring intellect doth spurn the poor
Malice of insect nothingness and lives
48
The boundless universe with all its worlds
Of stars and suns is but a narrow path
For the immortal spirit; one bright glance
Of the soul's eye pervades all space and flies
Beyond the farthest reckoning of the sage
Who reads the heavens; the winged thought sublime
Wanders unresting through creation's worlds
And searches all their glorious beauties, till
Yet unsatisfied, it would rove through realms
E'en angels know not of, when some keen pang,
O'erwhelming want or weakness murders thought,
And brings the almighty spirit down to earth,
And all its chilling woe and bitterness.
| Lays of Melpomene | |