The Christian Scholar :: :: University of Virginia Library

Where didst thou glean that strange mysterious tale,
Thou solemn bard, or seer, or sage divine,
Or priest of Heathen Wisdom? In what vale
Of shadowy death or subterranean mine
Chaldee or Ind, or in Egyptian shrine
'Neath some dark pyramid,—or on the shore
Of dim Oblivion left in its decline,
Some fragment old of Babylonian lore;—
Where didst thou gain that tale of days that went before?

As in some tree or flower's deep hidden lines,
Or many-colour'd pebble on the beach,
Christ crucified we trace in mystic signs,
Whom stones within their secret bosom preach;—
Or when the skies of blue majestic reach
In starry characters the Cross disclose,
The same beneath our feet may waters teach
In dark reflection,—thus, whence'er it rose,
Beneath this legend strange shadows of truth repose.

157

For who is this amid the mountain peaks
In adamantine fetters on the rock,
Whose very name itself of wisdom speaks?
Two monsters, Strength and Force, huge rivets lock,
Alien to pity, and his sorrows mock,
But Nature through her realms doth sympathize,
And Earth unto its centre feels the shock.
See Ocean on his griffin car arise,
And all his daughter-nymphs too fair for human eyes,—

Full of diviner communings;—from far
Ascending from their azure palaces
And coral caves, upborne on airy car
'Tween earth and Heaven, and sitting on the breeze
With wisdom hold their virgin colloquies;
Poising the scales of virtue; while hard by
Laughing with dimples numberless the Seas,
Ether Divine, swift-wing'd Airs, Earth and Sky
Around him mingling breathe intensest sympathy.

Of what mysterious fate art thou the prey,
Deep-counselling son of Themis , wise of mind,
Or Son of Earth and Heaven , as some would say;
Thus suffering for thy love of lost mankind,

158

Who were to Hades going , weak and blind,
Like shadows in a dream to ruin given,
Despair before and wrath itself behind,
When thou didst give them Hope and Fire from Heaven,
For which thou art thyself to bonds and exile driven.

And who this Jove imperious, new to power,
Throned majesty of evil, given to reign
A dynasty of ill one destin'd hour,
Yet trembling at a captive he would chain?
Men “seeing saw not, hearing heard in vain .”
But who is this with melancholy moan,
That like a death-doom'd victim doth complain,
And comes to thee with supplicating groan,
Whom that dread evil power hath touch'd and made his own?

The horned maid of Inachus, 'neath ban
Of conscience, expiating Jove-wrought sin,
Like some strange symbol of guilt-laden man,
Whom the live stings without and pangs within
From Argus hundred-eyed no respite win,

159

Whom e'en in death earth hides not —but her grief,
Like phantom of the crime that hems her in,
Brings her this way to thee on mountain reef,
For one that's born of her shall bring the world relief.

But, lo, the Earth to its foundation shakes,
'Mid mountain fastnesses the Thunders bound,
And Echo from her rocky caves awakes,
And Lightnings shake their forked hair around,
Wild dusty Whirlwinds ride the storm. 'Mid sound
Of bursting thunders with a mightier chime,
From him upon the adamantine rock fast-bound
Is heard the righteous voice lifted sublime,
Making his loud appeal to furthest shores of time.

I would not force such legends of old lore
To square with truths divine, nor bring from high
Transcendent Love, to blend with tales of yore
Found in the dreams of heathen vanity;—
As when in fiery embers as they lie
We trace out fancied shapes, or in the cloud

160

That rolls and melts upon the azure sky,—
Give shape and mould to falsehood—nor have bowed
To look for beauty's face within a funeral shroud.

But whether deep in man's divining heart
(Like shadow of the Heavens in some dark well)
Such wisdom hath been found; or whether part
Of some primeval lore unsearchable,
Much changed, much fraught with error, which thus fell
Like some stray scatter'd fragments on the strand;—
Methinks if we could all the meaning tell
It bears the mark of some unearthly hand,
On which with awe we gaze, yet cannot understand.

They who the Cross would mark in things of sense,
Earth, sea, or sky, live form, or human face,
Yet lose it soon in other lineaments,
Alien and intricate; enough to trace
Though rude and shapeless;—or in realms of grace
With complications manifold may blend
The Cross of Christ, yet find therein no place
In full distinctness, though through all it tend;
Enough if 'mid dark clouds we. Heavenward still ascend.

Line 18.

Line 218.

Line 244.

Line 458.

Line 258, 260.

Line 456

Line 700.

161

II. KNOWLEDGE OF GOD BY SUFFERING.

[_]

Agamem., 1. 160 to 184. paraphrased.

1

“O Thou surpassing mortal sight,
Wonderful is Thy Name!
How shall I think of Thee aright,
And speak Thee without blame?
Of Thee I fain would sing,
But every thought I to the balance bring
To speak Thy praise is impotent and vain,
And feeble is the strain.

2

“I see below some mighty one
Arises, mantling o'er
With proud defiance; he anon
Is past, and heard no more:
Another for a space,
And lo, a third is towering in his place;
But he who sings of Thine all-conquering Power,
Hath Wisdom for his dower.

162

3

“Thou pointest out the toilsome stair
Which leads to Wisdom's palace fair,
And hast to man Thy law made plain,
That Pain is Gain .
Gentle as dew such knowledge of Thy laws,
And e'en from sleep the soul instruction draws;
But little thanks the lesson own,
For in unwilling hearts such grace is sown,
By them who sit on Heaven's dread throne.”

ON THE FOREGOING.

Thus well he deem'd that God who hides from sight
Must Ever-lasting be and Infinite,
To knowledge of Himself that lies so deep
Still training us by suffering, e'en in sleep
Conversing with our spirit; night and day,
So wonderfully near, so far away.

Scil. τον Παθει Μαθος.

163

III. SACRILEGE.

[_]

Line 367, Διος πλαγαν, to line 396.

“The hand of Heaven is on them, see
Their own madness they deem wise!
O footsteps and mute auguries
Of Him whose will is destiny!
“Tush,” said one, “doth God perceive,
Or for trampled altars grieve?”
Thus they whet themselves to rage
Of abhorrèd Sacrilege.
Sprung are such from them of old
Breathing forth rebellion bold,
Nurs'd to impious hardihood
From full houses flowing o'er
With an over-plenteous store,
Beyond the golden mean of good.
Far aloof from such be mine,
With content in humble cell,
Unharming and unharm'd to dwell,
Hard by holy Wisdom's shrine!
For what shall towers of wealth avail
To them who kick at Judgment's shrine,

164

To save them from th' o'erwhelming jail,
Th' inextricable net of Penalty divine?

“When they the strength of Right let go,
Th' infatuating Judgment's course
Urges them on, and gathers force,
Dread Counsellor for children's woe.
Therefore lowers the heavenly roof,
And all Healing stands aloof.
Now no more the guilt conceal'd,
Horribly it stands reveal'd—
Awfully resplendent light:
It has pass'd for current long,
Through the hands of thousands strong,
And their handling made it bright.
Black forgery is in these lines,
See the adulterous metal shines,
With a curse upon its brow!
Look at it, and sound it now!
It seem'd but sport at morning mild,
And they pursuing, like a child
With feather'd prey his grasp inviting,
Ever before his steps alighting;
But in sad Destruction pale
The City shall such sport bewail!

165

Yea, though ye pray, and cry aloud,
God turns from the abhorred land,
And draws around Him the dark cloud
From sacrilegious heart and gold-defilèd hand.”

ON THE FOREGOING.

Such is, alas! that evil School
Which in our Christian land bears rule,
The only lore it with it brings
Hate of God's Church and hate of kings,
Contempt of Christ in His own poor.

And yet they prosper as of yore,
Grow in possessions more and more;
But o'er them hangs from age to age
Blindness of eyes their heritage,
A heavier judgment to endure .

“Then grieve not at their high and palmy state,
Those proud bad men, whose unrelenting sway
Has shatter'd holiest things, and led astray
Christ's little ones.”

Lyr. Apost.

166

IV. THE BESETTING SIN.

[_]

Ibid., line 716 to line 735.

“There once was one
Who rear'd a Lion from the breast,
And took him for his household guest.
Harmless he play'd in mimic strife
In feats that presaged after-life,
The children's sport—and well I ween
Old age could smile upon the scene,
When one would take him, like a child,
Into his arms; or crouching wild
The hand caressing he put by,
With suppliant tail and glistening eye.

“But lo, anon
He shews the hidden dam within,
And all the house is blood and din.
His foster friends he now repays,
Stays an unbidden guest, and preys
On flock and fold; a torment sore,
The cherish'd inmate now no more.
Rapine and Slaughter on him wait
Where'er he goes; found not too late,

167

Th' exactor he of wrath Divine,
A slaughtering Priest at Ate's shrine.”

ON THE FOREGOING.

Wild beasts which nature fill with awe
But typify the inward law
Of Passion, whether love or hate,
Fawning at first, but waxing great
It preys upon the soul within,
And stands reveal'd “the man of sin.”

168

V. ATE.

[_]

Line 750, Παλαιφατος, to line 781. παν δ' επι τερμα νωμα.

“'Twas said of yore, when Wealth doth rise,
She never childless dies,
But in her fulness doth disclose
A multiplying brood of woes.
But Truth, if I may hold thy hand,
Apart from all with thee I stand;
Some sacrilegious Deed of fear
Hath offspring, which their parent's impress bear,
But houses built with Right have children bright and fair.

2

“The Crime of old, which seem'd long dead,
Lifts up again its head,
Again its destin'd moon it fills,
And giveth birth to mortal ills,
As aye advancing it grows worse
In the black chambers of the Curse,
It bears a nameless progeny,
Hating the light—not yet their form we see,
But doubtless all too like their godless ancestry.

169

3

“In smoky huts Justice shines bright,
Revering holy Right,
But her averted eyes doth hold
From hands defiled with sacred gold;
And towering walks unto the side
Where deeds of Holiness abide,
Nor honours Power which wealth may raise,
Though falsely it be stamp'd with passing Praise,
But unto the Great End she ordereth all her ways.”

ON THE FOREGOING.

“Ate” that word of early time
Deep Wisdom speaks as from a shrine,
Of long-descending Curse and Crime
Which marks the steps of Wrath divine.

When Judgment like a fiery guest
Enters a house and there remains;
On age to age its shadows rest,
Unless Repentance cleanse the stains .

Zech. v. 4.

See Hom. Il. ix. at page 122 and 123

170

VI. THE FURIES OVERTAKING ORESTES.

[_]

Eumen. 1 264.... and 299.

“Justice must overtake thee, thy red blood
Drink we, and thou alive shalt be our food,
To waste thee and drag down below
With the vengeance and the woe
Of the matricide;—
Meet warning-sign for him who sets aside
The God, the stranger, or his parents dear,
That retribution each shall bear.
Hades, great Judge, all mortal things shall right,
Who sitteth out of sight,
With watchful mind as with an iron pen
Noting down the deeds of men.”

ORESTES AT THE SHRINE.

“Neither Apollo nor Minerva's shrine
Shall save thee that thou perish not and pine;—
Nor know a place of joy within thy mind;
The bloodless prey of spirits, shadow blind.

171

Yet me thou answer'st not, but turn'st away,
Fed and devoted all for me, my prey,
My living victim, not on altars slain;
Then hear the charm which shall thy soul enchain.—

SONG OF THE FURIES.

“Let us come and join the dance
Which his spirit shall entrance.
Men's destinies are in our hand,
The disposal of our band;
Stern exactors we of right;
Vengeance is our stern delight.
He his hands who keepeth clean—
Him our anger toucheth not,—
He shall have an unharm'd lot.
But where deed of crime hath been,
And the guilty sinner hides
Blood that on his hands abides,
Witnesses true to the dead
Close upon his heels we tread,
Blood-avengers we draw near,
With him to the end appear.

“Mother Night, who gav'st me birth
For the punishment and dread
Of the living and the dead,
Whether on or 'neath the earth;

172

See how this Latona's son
Takes from me the trembling one;—
Though his hands be fresh-imbrued
With a mother's blood.
O'er our victim not in vain
Sing we this our strain,
Soul-destroying, working-sadness,
And self-despairing madness,
The Furies' ban,
The spirit's chain,
Lyre-less, joy-less, withering man.

“This our office from of old
Fate hath given us firm to hold;—
When deeds of crime on mortal lie
To attend him till he die;
Nor I ken
Shall he be more free e'en then.
O'er our victim not in vain
Sing we this our strain,
Soul-destroying, working sadness,
And self-despairing madness,
The Furies' ban,
The spirit's chain,
Lyre-less, joy-less, withering man.

“Such the offices on earth
Were assign'd us at our birth;—

173

Ne'er to come nigh the Immortals,
Nor approach within their portals;
None of them with us carouses;
For no part, no lot have we
With the white-robed company.
Ours the ruin is of houses;
Should a home-rear'd Mars appear,
Slaying one that should be dear;
Him pursue we;—be he strong
We shall waste him down ere long.

“By our care and by our zeal
Is One set free,
And Gods enjoy immunity
From the criminal appeal.
But Jove with converse ne'er will grace
Our hate-doom'd and blood-reeking race
Therefore wandering far I go,
And down my heavy foot-fall bring
With a spring
And intolerable woe,
When upon him we prevail
As his slippery footsteps fail.

“Glories that once reach'd the sky, in high renown,
All faded and dishonour'd dwindle down

174

On our black-robed advances and the footfalls of our tread.
But he that falls this knoweth not, for guilt hath made him blind,
With such a cloud it falls upon the crime-polluted mind.
But others deeply groan, and speak of what a gloom
There hangs upon the house with a heavy weight of doom.

“Yea, I ween, and it shall stand,
For all ways are in our hand,
All we perfect in its time,
Stern remembrancers of crime.
Prayers with us no access find;
Unaveng'd, unhonour'd crew;
Far from Gods our lot assign'd
While we pursue
With a sunless lamp behind,—
Preciptous dark ways shall flee,
Both the blind and those that see.

“What mortal ear
Heareth these things without fear,
Of our ordinance severe?

175

Given of Gods, by fate made sure,
To the end it shall endure.
While I bear this rite from of old
None shall me dishonour'd hold,
Though 'neath the earth invisible
In the sunless cloud I dwell.”

[_]

SONG OF THE FURIES EXPLAINED.

“When one has been recollecting the proper proofs of a future state of rewards and punishments, nothing methinks can give one so sensible an apprehension of the latter,... as observing that... after the chief bad consequences, temporal consequences, have been delayed for a great while; at length they break in irresistibly, like an armed force: repentance is too late to relieve, and can serve only to aggravate, their distress: the effects of their own doings, overwhelm them, beyond possibility of remedy or escape. This is an account of what is in fact the general constitution of nature.”

Bp. Butler's Analogy, b. l. ch. ll.

“Let their way be dark and slippery; and let the angel of the Lord persecute them.”—Ps. xxxv. 6.

176

VII. DIVINE POWER.

[_]

Supp., lin. 86. Διος ιμερος.

“The will of Jove no one can trace,
All things to him are bright
E'en in dark night,
What seems black chance to mortal race.
Safe it falls out and sure will stand
Whate'er his will shall once command.
His counsels are a secret maze,
Like intricate dark woodland ways,
And difficult to know.
From lofty towers on high he looks, and thence
He hurls men in destruction low,
Yet arms him with no violence;—
All without effort is with Gods.
Seated on high, I know not how, His thought
Hath instantaneously fulfilment wrought
E'en from His pure abodes .”

“Yea, what things Thou didst determine were ready at hand, and said, Lo, we are here.”Judith. ix. 6.