Poems and Plays :: :: University of Virginia Library

Now rose a Seraph, by affection led,
A wreathing glory hovers o'er his head,
His flowing accents spotless candour own'd,
And on his brow sat Energy enthron'd:
He speaks—“The vulture hast'ning to his prey,
With sounding pinions wins his distant way,
Regardless of the charms that Nature's hand
In gay profusion scatters o'er the land,
And, summon'd by the pestilential gale,
Speeds to the carcase fest'ring in the vale:
So these accusers in their rav'ning mood
Appear to emulate the gory brood,

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Unmindful of the virtues that surround
The spot on which their censures most abound.

Now deeds long past like exhalations roll,
Now nearer move, now open on the soul:
I see the pale-ey'd citizens convene,
In Hist'ry's drama, high-recorded scene !
The dread resolve from Edward's bosom sprung,
Wild consternation o'er their counsels flung:
With chilling, blood-recoiling thoughts imprest,
Entrancing terror deadens ev'ry breast.
At length from out the silent depth emerg'd
An ardent Chief, by glory's impulse urg'd:
Th' Enthusiast wraps him in her wak'ning fires,
And thus he utters what her soul inspires:

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‘Ye firm associates in the highest cause,
On whom posterity will show'r applause,
Who, while calamity severely reign'd,
Well the long labours of the siege sustain'd!
Deign to accept what my affections give,
And bid your kindred, friends, and children live:
This, this will cheer me in the trying hour,
When I shall bend at the stern tyrant's pow'r,
And the doom'd victim (as his rage decreed)
On the pure altar of my country bleed:
Ah! should my strong forebodings tell me true,
Pass one swift moment, these glad eyes shall view
The destin'd number of the victims rise,
To swell the rites of patriot sacrifice!’—
These words prophetic were not ardor's rant,
Five kindred bosoms warm for glory pant,
These youths th' Enthusiast, sev'ring from the rest,
Informs, and breathes herself into their breast;
And now, envelop'd in her active flame,
The daring chiefs the pond'rous honor claim.

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See, thro' th' applauses of the grateful throng,
The self-devoted heroes move along:
To Eustace now advanc'd a beauteous Maid,
In the rude garb of negligence array'd,
Her auburn tresses ruffling to the wind,
Her eye expressive of her tortur'd mind:

Say, desp'rate Youth,’ the wild'ring Fair exclaim'd,
‘What dire conception has thy bosom fram'd?
Oh, death-importing scenery! sight abhorr'd!
Whence this attire, this ignominious cord?
Impell'd by frenzy, whither dost thou tend?
Relent, relent, thine impious steps suspend!’—
With a calm fortitude the Chieftain said,
‘The path that climbs to honor's height I tread:
These joyful loud acclaims that rend the air
Wouldst thou convert to howlings of despair?
Ev'n love commands—with eager step I go,
To shield Clotilda from impending woe.’
‘What peace,’ she answers, ‘can I thence derive?
The lover murder'd, say can joy survive?

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While famine, sickness, terrors I endur'd,
Was this the future bliss that hope assur'd?
To length'ning care, to sorrow still allied,
Behold Clotilda stands Misfortune's bride!
Had Mercy, heav'n-descending Mercy, stole
Her gentle radiance o'er the conqu'ror's soul,
This day, escap'd from wide affliction's wreck,
This day might I, reclining on thy neck,
Have utter'd Edward's praise—that thought is flown,
And each fond project of my heart o'erthrown.
When from thy wound I drew the British dart,
And with these lips embalm'd th' envenom'd part,
Would that the poison like a subtile flame
Had scorch'd my entrails, and dissolv'd my frame!’
She ceas'd—her eye emits a weaker glance,
While her dim reason fades into a trance:
The Youth, as if indignant of delay,
Drops her pale hand, and turns abrupt away:
Then to the partners of his fate he cried,
‘Ye willing victims, to my soul allied,

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Forgive, if passion's all-subduing pow'r
Dare to profane this high important hour;
Now, free of weakness, clear of love's controul,
I lead the way that runs to virtue's goal.’

Arriv'd at Edward's tent, the dauntless Youth
Resum'd—‘Invested in this garb uncouth,
If, at thy bidding, thus we meet thine eye,
For grace (the coward's hope) we heave no sigh;
Since acts of slaughter are thy soul's best food,
Oh, gorge thy rav'ning appetite of blood!’—
Now with the glowing Youths, of equal mind,
In one resolve, one hope, one peril join'd,
He stands, unaw'd by death, sublimely great,
True to his cause, rejoicing in his fate.

But other scenes of high illustrious fame
Burst on my soul, impatient of their claim:
Behold! th' Enthusiast, freedom to regain,
Leads her stern Barons o'er the sacred Plain;

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To the proud Monarch they exclaim—‘Thy hand
Has touch'd the hallow'd ark that wisdom plan'd;
The bending seer, with sorrow's weight opprest,
Who beats in his despair his wither'd breast,
Shall sooner from his tortur'd mind efface
The wretch who plung'd his daughter in disgrace,
Who in his sight compell'd her to his arms,
And rudely ravish'd her untasted charms,
Than we forgive thy violating pow'r,
That wrested Freedom from her native bow'r.’
They spoke—each battle-axe, now rear'd on high,
(Catching the splendor of th' unclouded sky)
Cast on th' illumin'd field a sudden light,
Whose rapid flash o'erpower'd the monarch's sight:
Upbraiding thoughts his wav'ring mind assail'd,
And fear, the tyrant's curse, his aspect pal'd:
At length he seals, with mean, reluctant soul,
(To Britain ever dear) th' immortal Roll.
Now thro' disclosing skies th' angelic train
Pour on th' enraptur'd ear the choral strain:

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‘Be cheerful praise, be salutations paid,
And hymns symphonious, to the godlike Maid,
Whose energy resists the tyrant's plan:
Joy be to Saints, and liberty to Man!’—

From Time's dark gulph, revolving back to light,
What new-born image rushes on my sight?
The bold Columbus dedicates his sail
To the wild breathing of a stranger gale:
Th' Enthusiast bids his dauntless soul explore
Realms unreveal'd, and seas unplough'd before:
The hour now ripening in the womb of time,
Th' inspir'd adventurer reach'd the point sublime,
The long-obscuring veil for him was furl'd,
And on his vision burst another world!
Ecstatic Wonder heard the proud event,
And o'er the ocean the glad tidings sent:
Then Industry, as by electric stroke,
From her enduring sleep instinctive broke:

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With brightest omens of her future reign,
This better Venus rising from the main,
Saw from all harbours, rushing with the tide,
Unnumber'd vessels at her beck'ning glide:
Did it not seem as if the sever'd earth,
Like two fair sisters parted from their birth,
Acknowledging at length their kindred race,
Felt the warm transport of a first embrace?

Now the same age a different scene presents,
And the bold vision labours with events:
Methinks I see, extending wide around,
A tow'ring wood with crowding leaves imbrown'd;
Beneath whose vast display of deadly shade
Her listless length lethargic Europe laid:
There Superstition her deep plan design'd
Against the awful sanctuary of the mind:
There the wan sorceress, haggard fiend of hell,
Midst her dim orgies mutter'd the dread spell.

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The sun abhors to pour his radiant flood
O'er the dumb horror of the slumb'ring wood;
Yet thro' the gloom of sacerdotal night
One peerless star reveals a cheerful light:
Ah! why in mystic strains eclipse his name?
Demand, Oh! Luther, thine unbounded fame:
Advance, advance, thou elder son of Truth,
Sublime, all-daring, restless, ardent youth!
I now behold th' enthusiastic Maid
Rushing impetuous to her fav'rite's aid:
She reaches to his lips a cup of fire,
Whose living drops the leaping pulse inspire.
Revealing now his mission from the skies,
He utters to the torpid world—‘Arise!’
The sullen forest, wrapt in tenfold night,
Swift thro' a thousand vistas drinks the light:
Th' imprison'd tenants burst the mental tomb,
While from their eyes recedes the massive gloom:
The flaky clouds admit an orient ray,
And laughing Morn unlocks the gates of day.

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Prompt Apprehension sends her view around,
While her bold thoughts o'erleap their former bound,
And Joy proclaims throughout th' applauding earth
The hallow'd festival of Reason's birth.

Now the couch'd mind reveals its spotless eye,
Weak to sustain the splendor of the sky,
Till strength'ning at th' irradiating gleam,
It meets unblenching Truth's refulgent beam:
So when the keenly-glitt'ring darts of light
Pierce the loose film that dims the eaglet's sight,
First with an ignorant and coy survey
The dazzled bird admires the stranger day,
Then glancing on the sun with tow'ring gaze,
Kindles his vision at the noon-tide blaze.

Meek Toleration, heav'n-descending Maid,
A vernal rainbow glitt'ring o'er her head,
Smooths the rough path destructive feet have trac'd,
Adorns and peoples Persecution's waste:

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She, like the Flora of the Pagan reign,
Sprinkles with roses the enamell'd plain,
Bids ev'ry flow'r of ev'ry clime arise,
And freely breathe its incense to the skies.

See Superstition, madd'ning at th' alarm,
Extend, in thunder cloath'd, her threat'ning arm,
But with'ring at the heart she rues the hour,
That harshly severs her diminish'd pow'r:
Thus as the serpent, sleeping on the plain,
Feels the rude pressure of the loaded wain,
With apt revenge, and indignation stung,
She rears her crest, and darts her fiery tongue;
But impotent of rage, her trailing wound
She languishingly sweeps along the ground.”

Here clos'd the Seraph his illustrious theme,
Which on his audience flash'd conviction's beam.
—And now th' Enthusiast, with her hand high-rear'd,
Express'd a look demanding to be heard:

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The circling Hierarchy, with one acclaim,
Urge her to vindicate her injur'd fame:
She, to their judgment fearlessly consign'd,
Thus pour'd th' effusion of her glowing mind:—

“Bold on a tow'ring rock, with soul elate,
I saw Britannia sit in regal state,
Around the globe she threw her vast survey,
And mark'd the realms devoted to her sway:
Her Western clime, her Oriental reign,
Her glory's theatre th' unbounded main:
I thus address'd her—‘Hail, immortal Dame,
Who, high-exalted, crowd'st the seat of fame,
Suspend the thoughts of thine imperial state,
And listen to th' event that heaves with fate—
A prosp'rous mother (so did Heav'n ordain)
Bless'd and ennobled by a numerous train,
Beheld (a stranger to affection's tie)
Her youngest born with a disclaiming eye,

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And, breaking loose from ev'ry moral band,
Stretch'd o'er th' innocuous babe an iron hand,
And, hard'ning in her wrath, the helpless child
Was from her presence and her thought exil'd:
This little outcast lately I survey'd,
As mid the flow'rets of the wild he play'd,
Artless and gay, himself the wilder flow'r,
Bare to the with'ring heat and quenching show'r.’

Britannia quick return'd, with loud acclaim,
‘Oh piteous infant! Oh inhuman Dame!
Where, where does she abide, that I may dart
The shaft of death into her wolfish heart?’

'Twas then I added, with indignant air,
‘Dismiss thy threats, thy warm resentment spare,
Or droop thyself beneath a flood of shame,
Thine, thine the child, and thou th' inhuman Dame.’
I said—and throwing back my flowing vest,
Disclos'd the infant clinging at my breast:

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‘Behold,’ I cried, ‘this flow'ret of the wild,
This orphan nursling, this rejected child,
Mark how around his brow of virtue's mold
The signs of greatness dare ev'n now unfold;
How on the vigorous eye the morning ray
Preludes the splendor of meridian day:
Oh! doom'd to act what Heaven's dread thought devis
Thou at the font of Energy baptiz'd,
Marvellous infant! doom'd to act my plan,
Americanus, hasten into man!”—”

‘Enough,’ th' abruptly-rising Quire exclaim,
‘Aspire, Enthusiast, to thy wonted fame;
Thy virtues, claims, and eminence we own,
Resume thy dignities, ascend thy throne:
Still to frail man thy daring strength impart,
Still flame th' incentive Seraph of his heart;
And when the scenes of earth shall fade away,
And man shall need no more thy active ray,

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Then, sacred object of our praiseful theme,
Bright emanation of th' eternal beam,
Thou shalt regain thy native, dread abode,
And glow for ever in the breast of God!’

Edward III. was so exasperated at the long and gallant resistance he met with from the citizens of Calais, that he threatened to put all the inhabitants to the sword: he desisted from this atrocious design, on the condition that six persons should be sent to him for the purpose of immediate execution. He required that they should approach his presence bare-footed, cloathed in mourning, with ropes round their necks.