The Hope of the World and other poems by Charles Mackay |
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 | The Hope of the World and other poems |  |
1
THE HOPE OF THE WORLD.
3
CANTO I.
ARGUMENT.
Capabilities of Man for Happiness.—The Muse of History is invoked to show how miserable Man has rendered the World by his own bad Passions.—The evils of Intolerance and Ambition, as exemplified by the wars of religion and aggrandisement, and the slavery and debasement of the Human Mind consequent upon them.—False Greatness of the Ancient Empires.—Christianity the Hope of the World.
Father and God of this fair world below,
How vast the blessings that around us flow!
Love, the foundation of thy wondrous plan,
Pours joy and plenty in full streams for man:
The generous earth yields up her golden grain,
The trees their fruits, the skies their kindly rain,
The air its health, the flowers their odours rare,
The sun his bright beams shining everywhere.
All nature, smiling through her varied round,
Woos human-kind to joys that still abound:
Still for their every sense unnumber'd rise—
Sweets for their palate, beauty for their eyes,
And all the charms of music for the ear,
With pain but given to warn of dangers near.
These for the body's;—for the mind's delight,
Knowledge of God, and favour in his sight;
And all that glorious privilege of thought,
To the true soul with mines of treasure fraught;
And Nature, opening her abounding page,
To charm in youth, to captivate in age:
With Hope, best boon the Godhead could impart,
And Love, divinest essence of his heart.
How vast the blessings that around us flow!
Love, the foundation of thy wondrous plan,
Pours joy and plenty in full streams for man:
The generous earth yields up her golden grain,
The trees their fruits, the skies their kindly rain,
The air its health, the flowers their odours rare,
The sun his bright beams shining everywhere.
All nature, smiling through her varied round,
Woos human-kind to joys that still abound:
4
Sweets for their palate, beauty for their eyes,
And all the charms of music for the ear,
With pain but given to warn of dangers near.
These for the body's;—for the mind's delight,
Knowledge of God, and favour in his sight;
And all that glorious privilege of thought,
To the true soul with mines of treasure fraught;
And Nature, opening her abounding page,
To charm in youth, to captivate in age:
With Hope, best boon the Godhead could impart,
And Love, divinest essence of his heart.
Lord of an heritage so fair and great,
Lord of himself, controller of his fate,
Has man employ'd the gifts so freely given
To the best ends, and made his earth a heaven?
Lord of himself, controller of his fate,
Has man employ'd the gifts so freely given
To the best ends, and made his earth a heaven?
Fool to inquire!—Historic Muse unfold
Thy book sublime, with all his deeds enroll'd,
And if thou canst, amid regretful tears,
Read us the awful record of his years!
Thy book sublime, with all his deeds enroll'd,
And if thou canst, amid regretful tears,
Read us the awful record of his years!
5
Since first the globe its annual course began,
Mankind's worst enemy hath still been man.
Lust, love of power, and rivalry of creed
Alike have turn'd him to a fiend indeed;
But chief the last has nerved his soul to hate,
His tongue to curse, his hand to strike his mate.
Lo! the first murder-spots that stain'd the land
Came from the wounds made by a brother's hand.
Lo! the first blood that sank into the sod,
Flow'd in contention at the shrine of God!
Mankind's worst enemy hath still been man.
Lust, love of power, and rivalry of creed
Alike have turn'd him to a fiend indeed;
But chief the last has nerved his soul to hate,
His tongue to curse, his hand to strike his mate.
Lo! the first murder-spots that stain'd the land
Came from the wounds made by a brother's hand.
Lo! the first blood that sank into the sod,
Flow'd in contention at the shrine of God!
First murder! emblem of a myriad more
That since have deluged Earth's green fields with gore!
Bear witness, Asia! where the flaming brand
Of thy Mohammed, in his conquering hand,
Hew'd down thy nations, like the full, ripe corn,
Before the reaper on his harvest morn,
Where his apostles, treading in his path,
Spread o'er thy plains like messengers of wrath,
“Allah-il-Allah!” their eternal cry—
“Believe our book, ye millions, or ye die!”
And other lands, if they had wish'd to pile
More wondrous pyramids than those of Nile,
Might, without granite, have uprear'd them high
With skulls unburied, bleaching to the sky.
That since have deluged Earth's green fields with gore!
Bear witness, Asia! where the flaming brand
Of thy Mohammed, in his conquering hand,
Hew'd down thy nations, like the full, ripe corn,
Before the reaper on his harvest morn,
Where his apostles, treading in his path,
Spread o'er thy plains like messengers of wrath,
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“Believe our book, ye millions, or ye die!”
And other lands, if they had wish'd to pile
More wondrous pyramids than those of Nile,
Might, without granite, have uprear'd them high
With skulls unburied, bleaching to the sky.
Bear witness, Europe! call thy suffering lands
To tell the foul deeds done by bigot hands.
Tell of the millions whom the Hermit drew
To dye the Danube of a sanguine hue,
And choke it up with multitudes of slain,
By high Belgrade or Nissa's fatal plain.
Tell of the second crowds, as mad as these,
Who cover'd earth and swarm'd upon the seas,
When zealous Bernard waved his banner high—
“The Cross! Jerusalem! the Lord!” his cry,—
And of the thousands of that countless host
Who left their bones for vultures on the coast,
And never saw that land they pined to see,
Bethlem's green meads, or waves of Galilee.
Call Albion up, to tell the honour'd names
Of all her sons who perish'd in the flames,
From her fourth Henry's to her Mary's time;—
Record of sorrow, and despair, and crime.
Call France, to tell of that unhallow'd day,
When brave Coligni, good, and hoary grey,
Fell in the streets already heap'd with slain,
That ran with blood to swell the blushing Seine;
When even babes depending at the breast
Were sought and seized, aud slaughter'd like the rest.
Bid Spain throw open wide her dungeon doors,
And show the blood-stains on the walls and floors.
Bid her disclose the secrets treasured there,
The body's torture and the mind's despair.
Bid her recount the numbers of her dead,
In caverns dark or market-places red;
Doom'd in the first a lingering death to know,
Brought to the second for a raree-show,
To please bull-baiters, crowding forth to scan
Intenser throes in man—betortured man.
To tell the foul deeds done by bigot hands.
Tell of the millions whom the Hermit drew
To dye the Danube of a sanguine hue,
And choke it up with multitudes of slain,
By high Belgrade or Nissa's fatal plain.
Tell of the second crowds, as mad as these,
Who cover'd earth and swarm'd upon the seas,
When zealous Bernard waved his banner high—
“The Cross! Jerusalem! the Lord!” his cry,—
And of the thousands of that countless host
Who left their bones for vultures on the coast,
And never saw that land they pined to see,
Bethlem's green meads, or waves of Galilee.
7
Of all her sons who perish'd in the flames,
From her fourth Henry's to her Mary's time;—
Record of sorrow, and despair, and crime.
Call France, to tell of that unhallow'd day,
When brave Coligni, good, and hoary grey,
Fell in the streets already heap'd with slain,
That ran with blood to swell the blushing Seine;
When even babes depending at the breast
Were sought and seized, aud slaughter'd like the rest.
Bid Spain throw open wide her dungeon doors,
And show the blood-stains on the walls and floors.
Bid her disclose the secrets treasured there,
The body's torture and the mind's despair.
Bid her recount the numbers of her dead,
In caverns dark or market-places red;
Doom'd in the first a lingering death to know,
Brought to the second for a raree-show,
8
Intenser throes in man—betortured man.
And thou too, distant region of the West,
New found, but ah! no happier than the rest;—
Columbia! join the universal wail,
Tell us Pizarro's blood-polluted tale,
And all the wrongs inflicted by the bands
Europe sent forth to scourge thy virgin lands,
And teach a creed, whose essence is of heaven,
By deeds of hell, and hope to be forgiven!
New found, but ah! no happier than the rest;—
Columbia! join the universal wail,
Tell us Pizarro's blood-polluted tale,
And all the wrongs inflicted by the bands
Europe sent forth to scourge thy virgin lands,
And teach a creed, whose essence is of heaven,
By deeds of hell, and hope to be forgiven!
Oh, fearful record! yet, ye nations, look—
'Tis but one page from that tremendous book
Where all your deeds, by Truth's sad fingers traced,
Remain for ever, clear and uneffaced,
Inscribed in characters of gory red,
And damp with tears by pitying angels shed.
Turn o'er the leaf, and see what meets us there—
Less woe—less wrong—less torture—less despair?
Ah, no! a lust, accursed from its birth,
Has play'd its part in ravaging the earth,
And help'd religious jealousy to fill
Her plains with blood, her human hearts with ill.
The lust of power! the worst that man can know,
Prolific source of never-ceasing woe,
Has sounded shrill the trumpet of alarm,
And call'd the ready multitudes to arm;
Made human shambles in each quiet spot,
Places of skulls for graveless bones to rot!
'Tis but one page from that tremendous book
Where all your deeds, by Truth's sad fingers traced,
Remain for ever, clear and uneffaced,
Inscribed in characters of gory red,
And damp with tears by pitying angels shed.
Turn o'er the leaf, and see what meets us there—
Less woe—less wrong—less torture—less despair?
Ah, no! a lust, accursed from its birth,
Has play'd its part in ravaging the earth,
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Her plains with blood, her human hearts with ill.
The lust of power! the worst that man can know,
Prolific source of never-ceasing woe,
Has sounded shrill the trumpet of alarm,
And call'd the ready multitudes to arm;
Made human shambles in each quiet spot,
Places of skulls for graveless bones to rot!
Oh, foolish men! to draw the cumbrous car
Of kings and chiefs, and potentates to war!
To waste your lives, and give your roofs to flame,
Your babes to slaughter and your wives to shame,
And all to aid the tyrant of an hour,
To round a province and extend his power;
Or please, perchance, some minion, his delight,
Who loves no prince unlaurell'd in the fight.
Too oft have thousands for a wanton's sigh,
Or favourite's pettishness, been doom'd to die;
Too oft the torch has set a realm on fire,
Because one man was slave to his desire,
And could not rest, unless the trump of Fame
Sounded o'er earth his terror-striking name;
Unless the nations trembled at his tread,
And smaller chieftains bow'd their humbled head!
Of kings and chiefs, and potentates to war!
To waste your lives, and give your roofs to flame,
Your babes to slaughter and your wives to shame,
And all to aid the tyrant of an hour,
To round a province and extend his power;
Or please, perchance, some minion, his delight,
Who loves no prince unlaurell'd in the fight.
Too oft have thousands for a wanton's sigh,
Or favourite's pettishness, been doom'd to die;
Too oft the torch has set a realm on fire,
Because one man was slave to his desire,
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Sounded o'er earth his terror-striking name;
Unless the nations trembled at his tread,
And smaller chieftains bow'd their humbled head!
Alas for men! that they should be so blind;
That they should laud these scourges of their kind;
Call each man glorious who has led a host,
And him most glorious who has murder'd most!
Alas! that men should lavish upon these
The most obsequious homage of their knees—
The most obstreperous flattery of their tongue;
That these alone should be by poets sung;
That good men's names should to oblivion fall,
But those of heroes fill the mouths of all!
That those who labour in the arts of peace,
Making the nations prosper and increase,
Should fill a nameless and unhonour'd grave,
Their worth forgotten by the crowds they save—
But that the leaders who despoil the earth,
Fill it with tears, and quench its children's mirth,
Should with their statues block the public way,
And stand adored as demi-gods for aye!
False greatness! where the pedestal for one,
Is on the heads of multitudes undone!
False admiration! given, not understood:
False glory! only to be gain'd by blood.
That they should laud these scourges of their kind;
Call each man glorious who has led a host,
And him most glorious who has murder'd most!
Alas! that men should lavish upon these
The most obsequious homage of their knees—
The most obstreperous flattery of their tongue;
That these alone should be by poets sung;
That good men's names should to oblivion fall,
But those of heroes fill the mouths of all!
That those who labour in the arts of peace,
Making the nations prosper and increase,
Should fill a nameless and unhonour'd grave,
Their worth forgotten by the crowds they save—
But that the leaders who despoil the earth,
Fill it with tears, and quench its children's mirth,
11
And stand adored as demi-gods for aye!
False greatness! where the pedestal for one,
Is on the heads of multitudes undone!
False admiration! given, not understood:
False glory! only to be gain'd by blood.
From the world's infancy till now, its prime,
The page of History is fill'd with crime.
In every age has bad Ambition raised
Its giant head, and, lo!—the earth has blazed!
Each clime remote, in cold or torrid zone,
Has had some king and hero of its own,
To play the fabled Mahadeva's part,
And light Destruction's torch or hurl its dart;
And still as one has run his fiery race,
The next has started to supply his place.
An Alexander grasps his sword, and, lo!
O'er half the globe resounds the voice of woe.
A Gengis comes, and many a fertile plain
Becomes more fertile with the heaps of slain.
A Timour next, and with her bosom rent,
Pale Asia bleeds in all her vast extent.
A furious Charles, destruction at his heels,
Drives from the north his conquering chariot wheels.
Napoleon flashes on the world's sad sight,
And blazing towns illumine all the night.
Brave Sarragossa falls amid her woe,
The fires of Moscow burst amid the snow,
Blue Berezina laves her shores with red,
And Europe's fields are cumber'd with the dead.
But why recount their numbers or their deeds?—
Earth's ears are full of them—earth's bosom bleeds
Even now, at mention of their fearful names,
Traced on her soil in furrows made by flames.
The page of History is fill'd with crime.
In every age has bad Ambition raised
Its giant head, and, lo!—the earth has blazed!
Each clime remote, in cold or torrid zone,
Has had some king and hero of its own,
To play the fabled Mahadeva's part,
And light Destruction's torch or hurl its dart;
And still as one has run his fiery race,
The next has started to supply his place.
An Alexander grasps his sword, and, lo!
O'er half the globe resounds the voice of woe.
A Gengis comes, and many a fertile plain
Becomes more fertile with the heaps of slain.
12
Pale Asia bleeds in all her vast extent.
A furious Charles, destruction at his heels,
Drives from the north his conquering chariot wheels.
Napoleon flashes on the world's sad sight,
And blazing towns illumine all the night.
Brave Sarragossa falls amid her woe,
The fires of Moscow burst amid the snow,
Blue Berezina laves her shores with red,
And Europe's fields are cumber'd with the dead.
But why recount their numbers or their deeds?—
Earth's ears are full of them—earth's bosom bleeds
Even now, at mention of their fearful names,
Traced on her soil in furrows made by flames.
If all their wars and battles we review,
From Asia's Tyre to Europe's Waterloo,
Rome, Greece, Assyria—modern states and old,
The same dark history is ever told;
The same bad passions in the conqueror's breast;
The same sad folly blinding all the rest;
Same causes, same results, where'er we turn—
One man must rule, a thousand towns must burn;
One King must force the tribute grudged by ten,
And blood must flow from thrice ten thousand men.
From Asia's Tyre to Europe's Waterloo,
Rome, Greece, Assyria—modern states and old,
The same dark history is ever told;
The same bad passions in the conqueror's breast;
The same sad folly blinding all the rest;
13
One man must rule, a thousand towns must burn;
One King must force the tribute grudged by ten,
And blood must flow from thrice ten thousand men.
Nor these alone the ills that spring from war;
Not life alone is crushed beneath its car.
The dead are gone—the millions sleep in peace
In the calm grave, where all their troubles cease;
But on the minds of living men remain
The deep, deep wounds that never heal again.
Were bloodshed sole and last result of strife,
There might be hope for earth's remaining life;
But ah! war's ravages are less confined;
They blight the soul, they fester in the mind;
They brutalize the hearts of suffering men,
And turn this planet to a noisome den,
In whose dark corners Superstition prowls,
And fear-struck Ignorance lies down and howls.
Not life alone is crushed beneath its car.
The dead are gone—the millions sleep in peace
In the calm grave, where all their troubles cease;
But on the minds of living men remain
The deep, deep wounds that never heal again.
Were bloodshed sole and last result of strife,
There might be hope for earth's remaining life;
But ah! war's ravages are less confined;
They blight the soul, they fester in the mind;
They brutalize the hearts of suffering men,
And turn this planet to a noisome den,
In whose dark corners Superstition prowls,
And fear-struck Ignorance lies down and howls.
Twin-fiends, by War engender'd and upheld!
They people earth with all the imps of Eld,
Raise hideous shapes to stare at in the gloom,
And scare the world with omens of its doom.
In their dark presence Science hides its ray,
And Art, affrighted, wings itself away;
Learning, that flow'ret most divine and fair,
Withers and dies for want of light and air;
And Freedom, fairer and diviner still,
Lies torn, and crush'd, and tortured at their will.
Ah! well they work to trample it for aye!
Tyrants to bind, are not so strong as they;
The first enchain the man's material part;
But they enfetter and destroy the heart.
The power of despots touches not the soul;
The power of Ignorance engulphs the whole!
Thought is enslaved and grovels in the mire,
And Reason crawls, mere pander to desire,
Or shows a wavering and uncertain ray,
To lead its bearers but the more astray.
They people earth with all the imps of Eld,
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And scare the world with omens of its doom.
In their dark presence Science hides its ray,
And Art, affrighted, wings itself away;
Learning, that flow'ret most divine and fair,
Withers and dies for want of light and air;
And Freedom, fairer and diviner still,
Lies torn, and crush'd, and tortured at their will.
Ah! well they work to trample it for aye!
Tyrants to bind, are not so strong as they;
The first enchain the man's material part;
But they enfetter and destroy the heart.
The power of despots touches not the soul;
The power of Ignorance engulphs the whole!
Thought is enslaved and grovels in the mire,
And Reason crawls, mere pander to desire,
Or shows a wavering and uncertain ray,
To lead its bearers but the more astray.
Worst foes of man! by some sage few abhorr'd,
But still by millions cherish'd and adored:
Like the wild fox in breast of Sparta's boy,
Nursed but to torture, hugg'd but to destroy!
Or more insidious, with a specious guile,
They wear an angel's form—an angel's smile,
Then lead their victim with those silken reins,
Harder to break than adamantine chains;
Lull him to sluggish and inglorious rest,
And pluck all virtue from his senseless breast.
Steep him in folly first, and then in crime;
Efface God's image from his brow sublime;
With smiles like Circe's, woo him to a beast,
And cast him garbage for his daily feast.
But still by millions cherish'd and adored:
15
Nursed but to torture, hugg'd but to destroy!
Or more insidious, with a specious guile,
They wear an angel's form—an angel's smile,
Then lead their victim with those silken reins,
Harder to break than adamantine chains;
Lull him to sluggish and inglorious rest,
And pluck all virtue from his senseless breast.
Steep him in folly first, and then in crime;
Efface God's image from his brow sublime;
With smiles like Circe's, woo him to a beast,
And cast him garbage for his daily feast.
Oh, foulest things that crawl beneath the sun,
Who shall recount the evils ye have done?
Where shall the mind, o'erwhelm'd by shame, begin
The long, unhappy catalogue of sin?
Lo! Egypt's children clasp their hands in prayer,
And ask a dog to save them from despair;
Raise mighty temples on each hillock's brow,
To chant triumphal pæans to a cow!
And Syria's tribes, deep sunk in blacker night,
Shape out a Moloch, and in public sight,
In adoration of his fearful name,
Consume young babes in sacrificial flame!
And Budha's priests, degraded even as they,
Erect a block to worship night and day,
And preach the doctrine, e'en while they adore,
That man is nothingness, and God no more.
Taught by his creed, behold the mild Hindoo
Committing murders of the blackest hue.
At Brahma's shrine he bends the suppliant knee,
Then lights the torch to fire the red Suttee;
Strews the rich incense for that rite abhorr'd,
And the poor widow burns beside her lord.
Oh! veil thy visage, thou insulted sun!
Light not the hellish deeds that men have done.
Fierce Juggernaut comes yelling from afar,
And eager victims bleed beneath his car!
The Thug walks forth and murders for a trade,
To please a goddess by his frenzy made;
And every doctrine most abject and foul,
Has its own million to adore and howl!
Who shall recount the evils ye have done?
Where shall the mind, o'erwhelm'd by shame, begin
The long, unhappy catalogue of sin?
Lo! Egypt's children clasp their hands in prayer,
And ask a dog to save them from despair;
Raise mighty temples on each hillock's brow,
To chant triumphal pæans to a cow!
16
Shape out a Moloch, and in public sight,
In adoration of his fearful name,
Consume young babes in sacrificial flame!
And Budha's priests, degraded even as they,
Erect a block to worship night and day,
And preach the doctrine, e'en while they adore,
That man is nothingness, and God no more.
Taught by his creed, behold the mild Hindoo
Committing murders of the blackest hue.
At Brahma's shrine he bends the suppliant knee,
Then lights the torch to fire the red Suttee;
Strews the rich incense for that rite abhorr'd,
And the poor widow burns beside her lord.
Oh! veil thy visage, thou insulted sun!
Light not the hellish deeds that men have done.
Fierce Juggernaut comes yelling from afar,
And eager victims bleed beneath his car!
The Thug walks forth and murders for a trade,
To please a goddess by his frenzy made;
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Has its own million to adore and howl!
Blushing for man, we turn our eyes away,
In nearer climes to find a brighter day,
And read the legends by our fathers told,
Enshrined in Edda in the days of old.
And there fierce Odin on his fiery steed,
Preaches to willing ears his bloody creed.
Dark Fenris howls, and the great snake, uncurl'd,
Opes its wide jaws to poison all the world.
And gloomy Druids, in their thickets hoar,
Worship their gods with offerings of gore.
In nearer climes to find a brighter day,
And read the legends by our fathers told,
Enshrined in Edda in the days of old.
And there fierce Odin on his fiery steed,
Preaches to willing ears his bloody creed.
Dark Fenris howls, and the great snake, uncurl'd,
Opes its wide jaws to poison all the world.
And gloomy Druids, in their thickets hoar,
Worship their gods with offerings of gore.
If pain'd with these, we turn our gaze again,
And view in Greece and Rome more polish'd men,
We find the waters populous, and the air
Swarming with gods that start up everywhere;
Some to be dreaded, some to be adored,
And all in season with due rites implored.
Phantoms they seem, all beautiful and bright,
By poets' fancy clothed in robes of light,
But rank in folly, gods all vile and mean,
Lustful, revengeful, ignorant, unclean;
In whose high temples man degrades his name
With orgies foul and deeds of blackest shame!
And view in Greece and Rome more polish'd men,
We find the waters populous, and the air
Swarming with gods that start up everywhere;
Some to be dreaded, some to be adored,
And all in season with due rites implored.
Phantoms they seem, all beautiful and bright,
By poets' fancy clothed in robes of light,
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Lustful, revengeful, ignorant, unclean;
In whose high temples man degrades his name
With orgies foul and deeds of blackest shame!
Humbled once more we cross the western wave,
To the far land that bold Columbus gave;
But still the deeds by Superstition done
Rise up in long array, and one by one
Affright our sense, and make us blush for men
Worse than the fierce hyena in its den,
Which, though it loves the feast of blood to find,
Has some compassion and respects its kind.
Not so the tribes that roam the forest through;—
They eat the victims whom their arrows slew:
Not so the priests of Mexitli the red,
Who strew'd their temple floors with heaps of dead,
Burn'd up their hearts with incense in a pan,
And fed their sacred snakes with flesh of man!
To the far land that bold Columbus gave;
But still the deeds by Superstition done
Rise up in long array, and one by one
Affright our sense, and make us blush for men
Worse than the fierce hyena in its den,
Which, though it loves the feast of blood to find,
Has some compassion and respects its kind.
Not so the tribes that roam the forest through;—
They eat the victims whom their arrows slew:
Not so the priests of Mexitli the red,
Who strew'd their temple floors with heaps of dead,
Burn'd up their hearts with incense in a pan,
And fed their sacred snakes with flesh of man!
Thus hath it been from earth's remotest age.
Though black the record, History's fearful page
Hath many blacker; and amid the few
That cheer the darkness with a brighter hue,
There still remain the dim red spots that show
The strong man's injury, the weak man's woe.
Egypt of old pursued the arts of peace,
And wit and learning bless'd the shores of Greece;
Imperial Rome amid her ruins hoar,
Left proofs of greatness never reach'd before;
But what their triumphs? Whose sad hands were they,
That piled the pyramids to last for aye?
Who rais'd the walls, who built each mighty gate
With which high Thebes girt herself in state?
Who rear'd old Babylon's most gorgeous fanes?
Who shaped of Luxor the august remains?
What were the millions when Athena's name
For art and learning was the first to fame?
What were the multitudes when Rome was great?
What rights had they, or value in the state?—
All slaves and helots!—Slaves were they whose hands
Uprear'd the pyramids on Egypt's sands;
Slaves built the city with the brazen wall,
And hundred gates more marvellous than all;
Slaves to be lash'd, and tortured, and resold,
Or maim'd and murder'd for a fine of gold.
Helots degraded, scarce esteem'd as man,
Having no rights, for ever under ban,
Were half the world when ancient Homer sung,
And wit and wisdom flow'd from Plato's tongue.
Slaves were the swarming multitudes of Rome,
Having no hope, no thought of better doom;
Fetter'd in body and enslaved in mind,
Their mental eye-balls, sear, and dark, and blind,
They crawl'd mere brutes, and if they dared complain,
Were lash'd and tortured until tame again!
Though black the record, History's fearful page
19
That cheer the darkness with a brighter hue,
There still remain the dim red spots that show
The strong man's injury, the weak man's woe.
Egypt of old pursued the arts of peace,
And wit and learning bless'd the shores of Greece;
Imperial Rome amid her ruins hoar,
Left proofs of greatness never reach'd before;
But what their triumphs? Whose sad hands were they,
That piled the pyramids to last for aye?
Who rais'd the walls, who built each mighty gate
With which high Thebes girt herself in state?
Who rear'd old Babylon's most gorgeous fanes?
Who shaped of Luxor the august remains?
What were the millions when Athena's name
For art and learning was the first to fame?
What were the multitudes when Rome was great?
What rights had they, or value in the state?—
20
Uprear'd the pyramids on Egypt's sands;
Slaves built the city with the brazen wall,
And hundred gates more marvellous than all;
Slaves to be lash'd, and tortured, and resold,
Or maim'd and murder'd for a fine of gold.
Helots degraded, scarce esteem'd as man,
Having no rights, for ever under ban,
Were half the world when ancient Homer sung,
And wit and wisdom flow'd from Plato's tongue.
Slaves were the swarming multitudes of Rome,
Having no hope, no thought of better doom;
Fetter'd in body and enslaved in mind,
Their mental eye-balls, sear, and dark, and blind,
They crawl'd mere brutes, and if they dared complain,
Were lash'd and tortured until tame again!
And thus the many since the world begun
Have been for ever sacrificed for one.
The weak have died to satisfy the strong.
And earth has groan'd with oft-repeated wrong,
And still the many, knowing not their might,
Deep sunk in Error's most appalling night,
Have greeted loudest with the voice of praise,
The greatest scourges born in evil days;
Sang songs of triumph, and their incense burn'd
To honour those whom most they should have spurn'd.
Have been for ever sacrificed for one.
21
And earth has groan'd with oft-repeated wrong,
And still the many, knowing not their might,
Deep sunk in Error's most appalling night,
Have greeted loudest with the voice of praise,
The greatest scourges born in evil days;
Sang songs of triumph, and their incense burn'd
To honour those whom most they should have spurn'd.
Light of the World! that didst at last appear,
To chase the darkness of our suffering sphere!
Long ages since, thy mild auspicious star
Rose on the world, and bless'd it from afar;
Raised up the humble, heal'd the wounded mind,
Relieved, consoled, and purified mankind.
Beneath the splendour of thy genial ray,
The thick, dark mists began to roll away,
And Hope, long banish'd, raised her head again,
While joyous angels, in triumphant strain,
Rang the loud pæan to the listening sky,
“Rejoice! O man! rejoice! thy God is nigh!
“Now the new era dawns upon the sight;
“Knowledge shall reign and truth be brought to light.
“Rejoice, O man! ye seraphim adore!
“Peace and good-will shall rule for evermore.
“A thousand darkling years may pass away,
“Ere this fair twilight brightens into day;
“A thousand more may wing their weary flight
“Ere man beholds the perfect noon of light;
“But still the ray shall penetrate the gloom,
“Still shall this star the suffering world illume.
“Glory to God, the Spirit, and the Son!
“Rejoice! rejoice! the dawning has begun!”
To chase the darkness of our suffering sphere!
Long ages since, thy mild auspicious star
Rose on the world, and bless'd it from afar;
Raised up the humble, heal'd the wounded mind,
Relieved, consoled, and purified mankind.
Beneath the splendour of thy genial ray,
The thick, dark mists began to roll away,
And Hope, long banish'd, raised her head again,
While joyous angels, in triumphant strain,
Rang the loud pæan to the listening sky,
“Rejoice! O man! rejoice! thy God is nigh!
22
“Knowledge shall reign and truth be brought to light.
“Rejoice, O man! ye seraphim adore!
“Peace and good-will shall rule for evermore.
“A thousand darkling years may pass away,
“Ere this fair twilight brightens into day;
“A thousand more may wing their weary flight
“Ere man beholds the perfect noon of light;
“But still the ray shall penetrate the gloom,
“Still shall this star the suffering world illume.
“Glory to God, the Spirit, and the Son!
“Rejoice! rejoice! the dawning has begun!”
23
CANTO II.
24
ARGUMENT.
The dawn of a better Day.—Christianity, by first teaching peace, good-will, and equality, the first great agent of human improvement and the civilisation of the World.—Emancipation of Mind and the first seeds of popular Freedom.—The Progress of Thought.—Discovery of America.—Invention of Printing.— Freedom of Conscience.—Art, Science, and Literature, the off-spring of Peace and Liberty.—The Reformation.—The Abolition of Slavery.—The evils that still afflict Mankind, and Hopes for the future.—The Reign of Peace.
25
Star of the East! that with propitious ray
Led the lone shepherds on their weary way,
The beam that rose on this dark world with thine
Since that glad hour has never ceased to shine!
The coarse thick mists that crown the murky sea,
Where Error, snake-like, broods continually,
May have conceal'd from Earth's inquiring sight,
The mild refulgence of its holy light;
The dense hot smoke in dun upcurling spires,
That mounts to Heaven from Hate's incessant fires,
May for a while have blinded man's poor eyes;
But still the ray was steadfast in the skies;
Still o'er the world it shed a hallow'd glow;
Still shone the cynosure of faith and woe,
To light the path by erring mortals trod,
The beam of peace! the beacon of a God!
Led the lone shepherds on their weary way,
The beam that rose on this dark world with thine
Since that glad hour has never ceased to shine!
The coarse thick mists that crown the murky sea,
Where Error, snake-like, broods continually,
May have conceal'd from Earth's inquiring sight,
The mild refulgence of its holy light;
The dense hot smoke in dun upcurling spires,
That mounts to Heaven from Hate's incessant fires,
26
But still the ray was steadfast in the skies;
Still o'er the world it shed a hallow'd glow;
Still shone the cynosure of faith and woe,
To light the path by erring mortals trod,
The beam of peace! the beacon of a God!
Divinest creed! and worthy to be taught
By Him, the Saviour, who thy tidings brought;
Thou wert the first, descending from above,
To teach the nations that their God was love;
That ire eternal dwelt not on his face,
But love and pity, and redeeming grace.
'Twas thou first cheer'd the weary and forlorn,
And raised the humble from the couch of scorn;
'Twas thou first told the poor man in his cot,
That Heaven had bliss for him, if Earth had not;
'Twas thou first whisper'd to the sunken slave
That joy and freedom dwelt beyond the grave;
That rich and poor, oppressor and oppress'd,
Fill'd the same grave, obey'd the same behest;
And that, whatever was denied or given,
All men were equal in the sight of Heaven.
By Him, the Saviour, who thy tidings brought;
Thou wert the first, descending from above,
To teach the nations that their God was love;
That ire eternal dwelt not on his face,
But love and pity, and redeeming grace.
'Twas thou first cheer'd the weary and forlorn,
And raised the humble from the couch of scorn;
'Twas thou first told the poor man in his cot,
That Heaven had bliss for him, if Earth had not;
'Twas thou first whisper'd to the sunken slave
That joy and freedom dwelt beyond the grave;
That rich and poor, oppressor and oppress'd,
Fill'd the same grave, obey'd the same behest;
27
All men were equal in the sight of Heaven.
And all the joy this world since then has known
Springs from this creed, and springs from this alone,
Whatever triumph has been gain'd by mind,
O'er Error, Hate, and Ignorance combined,
Whatever progress man may yet have made—
Owes all its worth to this benignant aid;
The Arts have flourish'd in its genial light,
And daring Science wing'd a bolder flight,
Delved the deep earth and scaled the distant sky,
In search of Truth, and found it ever nigh.
'Twas this that gave the long-enfettered mind
New power to travel free and unconfined;
Upraised the fallen dignity of man,
Relieved his spirit from the oppressor's ban;
Gave Hope new wings to traverse earth and air,
To cheer Humility, to soothe Despair;
To lift the prostrate and the sorrowing heart,
And rob affliction of its direst smart,
By that sweet certainty, the soul's best trust,
That God is kind, though man may be unjust.
Springs from this creed, and springs from this alone,
Whatever triumph has been gain'd by mind,
O'er Error, Hate, and Ignorance combined,
Whatever progress man may yet have made—
Owes all its worth to this benignant aid;
The Arts have flourish'd in its genial light,
And daring Science wing'd a bolder flight,
Delved the deep earth and scaled the distant sky,
In search of Truth, and found it ever nigh.
'Twas this that gave the long-enfettered mind
New power to travel free and unconfined;
Upraised the fallen dignity of man,
Relieved his spirit from the oppressor's ban;
Gave Hope new wings to traverse earth and air,
To cheer Humility, to soothe Despair;
To lift the prostrate and the sorrowing heart,
And rob affliction of its direst smart,
28
That God is kind, though man may be unjust.
Though Jewish hate, though Roman scorn assails,
The light still shines, and still the truth prevails;
Clime after clime receives the welcome ray;
Rome and her idols totter to decay;
Gaunt Odin claims no victims as of yore,
And Druid rites pollute the groves no more.
The generations rise, and move, and die—
Long ages trace their cycles in the sky—
The steadfast truth advances all the while,
And arid wastes begin to bloom and smile;
Men's hearts, no longer wildernesses bare,
Warm in the light and show their blossoms fair;
Freedom and Peace, exiled from earth so long,
Return with music and triumphant song,
Each scattering widely from her bounteous hands
The fruitful seeds that gladden all the lands.
The light still shines, and still the truth prevails;
Clime after clime receives the welcome ray;
Rome and her idols totter to decay;
Gaunt Odin claims no victims as of yore,
And Druid rites pollute the groves no more.
The generations rise, and move, and die—
Long ages trace their cycles in the sky—
The steadfast truth advances all the while,
And arid wastes begin to bloom and smile;
Men's hearts, no longer wildernesses bare,
Warm in the light and show their blossoms fair;
Freedom and Peace, exiled from earth so long,
Return with music and triumphant song,
Each scattering widely from her bounteous hands
The fruitful seeds that gladden all the lands.
Even man's own folly helps the sacred cause:
There is no chance in Heaven's eternal laws.
The very crowds that at the Hermit's call
Forsook their wives and little ones and all,
And at each meteor flashing through the gloom,
Trembled to see the signal-star of doom
That should arise, and, day of woe for them!
Find them still far from dear Jerusalem;
Even they, blind instruments of God's decree,
Advanced the cause they never lived to see;
They left their bones on many a distant shore,
But some return'd less brutal than before.
Wise with the wisdom learn'd in pain and woe,
Pleased with those arts they never thought to know,
They came back wondering, and at home aspired
To reach the luxury they still admired;
The polish'd manners, and the pleasant ease
Of climates fair beyond the Grecian seas.
And, with the wish, the power to meet it rose,
They saw and loved the blessings of repose;
And war, though still their pastime and their joy,
Became no longer life's supreme employ.
They saw that earth had better things in store,
And prized the peace consider'd vile before.
There is no chance in Heaven's eternal laws.
29
Forsook their wives and little ones and all,
And at each meteor flashing through the gloom,
Trembled to see the signal-star of doom
That should arise, and, day of woe for them!
Find them still far from dear Jerusalem;
Even they, blind instruments of God's decree,
Advanced the cause they never lived to see;
They left their bones on many a distant shore,
But some return'd less brutal than before.
Wise with the wisdom learn'd in pain and woe,
Pleased with those arts they never thought to know,
They came back wondering, and at home aspired
To reach the luxury they still admired;
The polish'd manners, and the pleasant ease
Of climates fair beyond the Grecian seas.
And, with the wish, the power to meet it rose,
They saw and loved the blessings of repose;
And war, though still their pastime and their joy,
Became no longer life's supreme employ.
30
And prized the peace consider'd vile before.
And those, the patient, though enfettered bands,
That stayed behind to cultivate the lands,
With some faint gleams of rights long-claim'd and spurn'd,
Arose and seized them ere their lords return'd.
Cities and towns, by feudal chiefs oppress'd,
Loosened each one the trammels on its breast,
Or bought from lordlings, with their ready gold,
The rights their masters dared no more withhold—
Freedom from grinding tax and blistering rod—
Freedom to dwell in peace and worship God.
That stayed behind to cultivate the lands,
With some faint gleams of rights long-claim'd and spurn'd,
Arose and seized them ere their lords return'd.
Cities and towns, by feudal chiefs oppress'd,
Loosened each one the trammels on its breast,
Or bought from lordlings, with their ready gold,
The rights their masters dared no more withhold—
Freedom from grinding tax and blistering rod—
Freedom to dwell in peace and worship God.
Then on thy shores, fair Italy! trade-born,
New cities rose, precursors of the morn,
Where Learning flourish'd, with more strength array'd
Than when she roam'd a lost Athenian maid,
Doubting and groping in those alleys blind,
The then sole outlets for th' imprison'd mind.
Art by her side upgrew, a sister mild,
And Science bloom'd as fostering Commerce smiled;
While busy navies wafted them afar,
With high emprize to guide them like a star,
Hope, dove-like, sitting on their sails unfurl'd,
To light, and cheer, and civilise the world.
New cities rose, precursors of the morn,
Where Learning flourish'd, with more strength array'd
Than when she roam'd a lost Athenian maid,
Doubting and groping in those alleys blind,
The then sole outlets for th' imprison'd mind.
31
And Science bloom'd as fostering Commerce smiled;
While busy navies wafted them afar,
With high emprize to guide them like a star,
Hope, dove-like, sitting on their sails unfurl'd,
To light, and cheer, and civilise the world.
Then rising Mind her ancient fetters broke,
New wants arose, new Enterprise awoke,
Discovery turn'd her keen inquiring eye
O'er all the wonders of the earth and sky,
Obscured, or hidden from our mortal sight
Through the long reign of Ignorance and Night.
First of her sons, the daring Genoese
Pierced the bright secret of the western seas,
Of fruitful climates that his sires ne'er knew;—
And at each favouring gale that westward blew,
Pined with an anxious heart that he might roam
Through those wide wastes of circumambient foam,
In search of islands fair and far away,
His dream by night, and all his thought by day;
And, lo! unconquer'd by the sceptic's sneer,
Unmoved by danger, undisturb'd by fear,
Unswerved by obstacles that friend and foe
Conspired alike around his path to throw,
Bold o'er the waves his banner he unfurl'd,
Friend of his race!—and found th'expected world!
New wants arose, new Enterprise awoke,
Discovery turn'd her keen inquiring eye
O'er all the wonders of the earth and sky,
Obscured, or hidden from our mortal sight
Through the long reign of Ignorance and Night.
First of her sons, the daring Genoese
Pierced the bright secret of the western seas,
Of fruitful climates that his sires ne'er knew;—
And at each favouring gale that westward blew,
Pined with an anxious heart that he might roam
Through those wide wastes of circumambient foam,
In search of islands fair and far away,
His dream by night, and all his thought by day;
32
Unmoved by danger, undisturb'd by fear,
Unswerved by obstacles that friend and foe
Conspired alike around his path to throw,
Bold o'er the waves his banner he unfurl'd,
Friend of his race!—and found th'expected world!
First glorious triumph of inquiring mind!
But not the greatest; for to bless mankind
With blessings sweeter and serener far,
Than ever smiled upon their wandering star,
An Art arose, worth in itself alone
More than all arts the world had ever known;
Worth all the monuments of ancient time,
Their buildings high, their chisellings sublime.
In his dark room the lone mechanic stood,
And shaped in letters the obedient wood,
And little thought, what time before his eyes,
He smiling saw the first rude types arise,
What a grand engine his ingenious mind
And ready hands had fashioned for his kind;
How vast the art he doubting had begun,
How great the good by that sole action done!
But not the greatest; for to bless mankind
With blessings sweeter and serener far,
Than ever smiled upon their wandering star,
An Art arose, worth in itself alone
More than all arts the world had ever known;
Worth all the monuments of ancient time,
Their buildings high, their chisellings sublime.
In his dark room the lone mechanic stood,
And shaped in letters the obedient wood,
And little thought, what time before his eyes,
He smiling saw the first rude types arise,
What a grand engine his ingenious mind
And ready hands had fashioned for his kind;
33
How great the good by that sole action done!
This art it was, next to the peaceful creed
That cheers the Christian in the hour of need,
That aim'd the direst and most stunning blow
Against the heads of Ignorance and Woe.
Scared by its light old Superstition shook,
And hid her face before the printed book!
Knowledge walked forth, no longer for the few
Unveiling shy her sweet face to the view;
No longer timid, taciturn, and coy,
But on an errand of unbounded joy,
She roam'd the earth, and show'd her eyes so bright
To all who chose to gaze upon their light.
No more sole visitant to hermit's cell,
Or convent grey, or porch where schoolmen dwell,
She showered her blessings more profusely down
On plodding men, and hinds with labour brown;
Knock'd with her gentle tap at poor men's doors,
And woo'd their sons to taste her bounteous stores;
Cheer'd lonely hearths with bliss till then unfelt,
Taught cheeks to glow and eyes with tears to melt
At joys or sorrows of their fellow men,
Told by the poet's or historian's pen;
And, best of gifts, bore in her bosom fair,
The Book divine, that ransoms from despair,
That cheers the weary with its words of love,
And points to doubting hearts the realms above.
That cheers the Christian in the hour of need,
That aim'd the direst and most stunning blow
Against the heads of Ignorance and Woe.
Scared by its light old Superstition shook,
And hid her face before the printed book!
Knowledge walked forth, no longer for the few
Unveiling shy her sweet face to the view;
No longer timid, taciturn, and coy,
But on an errand of unbounded joy,
She roam'd the earth, and show'd her eyes so bright
To all who chose to gaze upon their light.
No more sole visitant to hermit's cell,
Or convent grey, or porch where schoolmen dwell,
She showered her blessings more profusely down
On plodding men, and hinds with labour brown;
Knock'd with her gentle tap at poor men's doors,
And woo'd their sons to taste her bounteous stores;
34
Taught cheeks to glow and eyes with tears to melt
At joys or sorrows of their fellow men,
Told by the poet's or historian's pen;
And, best of gifts, bore in her bosom fair,
The Book divine, that ransoms from despair,
That cheers the weary with its words of love,
And points to doubting hearts the realms above.
O noble triumph! harbinger of more,
That fruitful time in proper season bore!
Strengthen'd by this, Discovery, bolder grown,
Soar'd to new regions, until then unknown;
Invention's hand acquired redoubled skill
To mould the plastic matter to her will;
And struggling minds their inspiration caught
From lore wide-spread, and interchange of thought.
Great Newton came, and with his eye sublime,
Discover'd secrets hidden from all Time;
Divined, with meek and yet with lofty soul,
The eternal Law by which the planets roll;
By which the stars in boundless ether shine,
Hung in the azure vault by hands divine.
Franklin appear'd, and, arm'd with daring high,
Drew down the lightning vivid from the sky;
Chemists explored the forest and the field,
Delved in the mine, and made each substance yield
The elements that mingle in its plan,
And all the secrets of its use to man.
And later still, Geology, that turns
Her gaze to earth, and in its bosom learns
The buried mysteries of oldest time,
Arose, and told the world her tales sublime,
Of fearful earthquakes and consuming fire,
Of whelming waters and convulsions dire,
And of huge creatures terrible and strong,
That walk'd the earth, a hundred fathoms long;
Or plough'd primeval seas through ages vast,
Ere man arose the noblest and the last.
That fruitful time in proper season bore!
Strengthen'd by this, Discovery, bolder grown,
Soar'd to new regions, until then unknown;
Invention's hand acquired redoubled skill
To mould the plastic matter to her will;
And struggling minds their inspiration caught
From lore wide-spread, and interchange of thought.
Great Newton came, and with his eye sublime,
Discover'd secrets hidden from all Time;
Divined, with meek and yet with lofty soul,
The eternal Law by which the planets roll;
35
Hung in the azure vault by hands divine.
Franklin appear'd, and, arm'd with daring high,
Drew down the lightning vivid from the sky;
Chemists explored the forest and the field,
Delved in the mine, and made each substance yield
The elements that mingle in its plan,
And all the secrets of its use to man.
And later still, Geology, that turns
Her gaze to earth, and in its bosom learns
The buried mysteries of oldest time,
Arose, and told the world her tales sublime,
Of fearful earthquakes and consuming fire,
Of whelming waters and convulsions dire,
And of huge creatures terrible and strong,
That walk'd the earth, a hundred fathoms long;
Or plough'd primeval seas through ages vast,
Ere man arose the noblest and the last.
Where'er Discovery turn'd her ardent eye,
To air, or earth, or star-bespangled sky;
Whether she view'd the deep obedient tide
Spreading beneath the moon its waters wide;
Or tiny dew-drop form'd upon the rose;
The hugest tree or smallest weed that grows,—
Still she exclaim'd, though humble, yet elate,
“Wondrous his works! the Lord our God is great!”
To air, or earth, or star-bespangled sky;
36
Spreading beneath the moon its waters wide;
Or tiny dew-drop form'd upon the rose;
The hugest tree or smallest weed that grows,—
Still she exclaim'd, though humble, yet elate,
“Wondrous his works! the Lord our God is great!”
Invention follow'd in her brilliant train,
From each new truth new usefulness to gain;
From all the elements Discovery drew
The inmost secrets veil'd from mortal view;
And apt Invention, watchful by her side,
Each, as it rose, to man's delight applied;—
Employed the water, caught th' unwilling wind,
And made strong fire the slave to stronger mind;
Mingled contending elements at will,
Curb'd and restrain'd, and made them each fulfil
Its destined purpose in her curious plan,
All for the service and the ease of man;—
And, chief of triumphs, in a happy hour,
Chanced on the secret of the mighty power
That sleeps conceal'd in every drop that flows
Round the huge earth, or freezes in its snows.
Discovery smiled with wonder at the sight,
And brisk Invention seized it with delight;
And lo! puissant Steam, a servant mild,
Titan in force, but duteous as a child,
Put forth for man a strength unknown before,
And raised with mighty arms the ponderous ore;
Plied the quick shuttles in the weaver's room,
Sparing his strength while it enrich'd his loom;
Whirl'd its great wheels triumphant o'er the deep
Though tides and winds were adverse or asleep;
And on the land, adown the assisting rail,
Drove its hot chariot swifter than the gale.
From each new truth new usefulness to gain;
From all the elements Discovery drew
The inmost secrets veil'd from mortal view;
And apt Invention, watchful by her side,
Each, as it rose, to man's delight applied;—
Employed the water, caught th' unwilling wind,
And made strong fire the slave to stronger mind;
Mingled contending elements at will,
Curb'd and restrain'd, and made them each fulfil
Its destined purpose in her curious plan,
All for the service and the ease of man;—
And, chief of triumphs, in a happy hour,
Chanced on the secret of the mighty power
37
Round the huge earth, or freezes in its snows.
Discovery smiled with wonder at the sight,
And brisk Invention seized it with delight;
And lo! puissant Steam, a servant mild,
Titan in force, but duteous as a child,
Put forth for man a strength unknown before,
And raised with mighty arms the ponderous ore;
Plied the quick shuttles in the weaver's room,
Sparing his strength while it enrich'd his loom;
Whirl'd its great wheels triumphant o'er the deep
Though tides and winds were adverse or asleep;
And on the land, adown the assisting rail,
Drove its hot chariot swifter than the gale.
And with these triumphs of the active mind,
That serve, improve, and elevate mankind,
Came others, dearer and more glorious still,
Than all th' increase of knowledge or of skill.
Bright though they be, not these alone convey
To eyes that pine, the light of perfect day;
They polish man, but rightly understood,
They cannot make him either wise or good;
Deeper conceal'd within the soul's recess,
Lies the great aid of earthly happiness—
The love of Freedom!—since the world began,
Cherish'd and prized by individual man,
But never taught, within its wide embrace,
To clasp with joy the whole of human race,
Until the Christ upraised the welcome call—
“Freedom to slaves!—good-will and peace to all!
“None is too base or lowly to be free—
“None is too poor to be received by me.”
That serve, improve, and elevate mankind,
Came others, dearer and more glorious still,
Than all th' increase of knowledge or of skill.
Bright though they be, not these alone convey
To eyes that pine, the light of perfect day;
38
They cannot make him either wise or good;
Deeper conceal'd within the soul's recess,
Lies the great aid of earthly happiness—
The love of Freedom!—since the world began,
Cherish'd and prized by individual man,
But never taught, within its wide embrace,
To clasp with joy the whole of human race,
Until the Christ upraised the welcome call—
“Freedom to slaves!—good-will and peace to all!
“None is too base or lowly to be free—
“None is too poor to be received by me.”
These are the words that civilize the world;
This simple truth has, single-handed, hurl'd
The tyrants down, that in their thralls would bind
The hearts and souls of patient human-kind.
This first great triumph leads to all the rest,
And gives man power to bless and to be bless'd;
This gives the heart the leisure to be wise,
And makes true goodness with its heavenward eyes
Act on the hope, that ere yon heaven it know,
It has a mission to fulfil below,
And that he best obeys the Almighty plan,
Who aids, consoles, and loves his fellow-man.
This simple truth has, single-handed, hurl'd
The tyrants down, that in their thralls would bind
The hearts and souls of patient human-kind.
This first great triumph leads to all the rest,
And gives man power to bless and to be bless'd;
This gives the heart the leisure to be wise,
And makes true goodness with its heavenward eyes
39
It has a mission to fulfil below,
And that he best obeys the Almighty plan,
Who aids, consoles, and loves his fellow-man.
And thus while Art increases all around,
And Peace down showers her blossoms on the ground,
While Knowledge shows her visage beaming bright
In darken'd nooks that never saw the light,
Freedom takes root, and flourishes the more
From all the triumphs that have gone before.
Wickliffe and Luther, and those hallow'd names
Who died for conscience in consuming flames,
Unfurl'd a banner, in the olden time,
Round which have rallied men of every clime;
Pure deeds their weapons, steadfast hearts their wall,
Their cry is “Freedom” for themselves—for all!
“Freedom for worship, rise where'er it will,
“From gorgeous dome, or damp unshelter'd hill,
“Freedom for thought, that shall not know decrease,
“Freedom for prayer and praise, and words of peace.”
And Peace down showers her blossoms on the ground,
While Knowledge shows her visage beaming bright
In darken'd nooks that never saw the light,
Freedom takes root, and flourishes the more
From all the triumphs that have gone before.
Wickliffe and Luther, and those hallow'd names
Who died for conscience in consuming flames,
Unfurl'd a banner, in the olden time,
Round which have rallied men of every clime;
Pure deeds their weapons, steadfast hearts their wall,
Their cry is “Freedom” for themselves—for all!
“Freedom for worship, rise where'er it will,
“From gorgeous dome, or damp unshelter'd hill,
“Freedom for thought, that shall not know decrease,
“Freedom for prayer and praise, and words of peace.”
40
This right secured—behold, the faithful band,
Who prize its blessings, rising in the land.
To share their joy with all beneath the skies,
They look abroad with pity-beaming eyes;
The sad they cheer, the ignorant they teach—
To souls in error, purer doctrines preach;
To the lost wand'rer point the way aright,
On mental blindness pour the healing light;
In arms fraternal clasp the injured slave,
And raise their voice to liberate and save.
Who prize its blessings, rising in the land.
To share their joy with all beneath the skies,
They look abroad with pity-beaming eyes;
The sad they cheer, the ignorant they teach—
To souls in error, purer doctrines preach;
To the lost wand'rer point the way aright,
On mental blindness pour the healing light;
In arms fraternal clasp the injured slave,
And raise their voice to liberate and save.
Grand and auspicious was that happy time
When England rose, majestic and sublime;
Arm'd with the strength that only arms the just,
The light of Truth flash'd in her eyes august;
Wide o'er the earth her mighty hands she spread,
While rays of glory beam'd about her head—
The listless nations started and awoke,
As with loud voice the cheering words she spoke:
“No more,” she cried, “no more, thou teeming earth,
“For me or mine, shalt thou to slaves give birth;
“No more for me shall helots till the soil—
“Stripes their reward, and pain and hopeless toil;
“No more shall slaves produce vile wealth for me—
“Joy! Afric, joy! thy swarthy sons are free!
“Hear, all ye nations! hear the voice of truth,
“And wake to pity and redeeming ruth;
“The wealth is cursed that springs from human woe,
“And he who trades in men is England's foe:
“Freedom, God's gift, was kindly meant for all—
“Poor suffering slaves! this hour your fetters fall!”
Earth, as she heard the loud majestic voice,
Shouted reply, and bade her sons rejoice:
The wise and good of every clime and caste
Hail'd a fair future, fairer than the past,
And pictured fondly, in the coming time,
Less blood and tears, less misery and crime.
Great was the boon, and pledge of thousands more—
Herald of peace, and days of bliss in store.
When England rose, majestic and sublime;
Arm'd with the strength that only arms the just,
The light of Truth flash'd in her eyes august;
Wide o'er the earth her mighty hands she spread,
While rays of glory beam'd about her head—
The listless nations started and awoke,
As with loud voice the cheering words she spoke:
“No more,” she cried, “no more, thou teeming earth,
“For me or mine, shalt thou to slaves give birth;
41
“Stripes their reward, and pain and hopeless toil;
“No more shall slaves produce vile wealth for me—
“Joy! Afric, joy! thy swarthy sons are free!
“Hear, all ye nations! hear the voice of truth,
“And wake to pity and redeeming ruth;
“The wealth is cursed that springs from human woe,
“And he who trades in men is England's foe:
“Freedom, God's gift, was kindly meant for all—
“Poor suffering slaves! this hour your fetters fall!”
Earth, as she heard the loud majestic voice,
Shouted reply, and bade her sons rejoice:
The wise and good of every clime and caste
Hail'd a fair future, fairer than the past,
And pictured fondly, in the coming time,
Less blood and tears, less misery and crime.
Great was the boon, and pledge of thousands more—
Herald of peace, and days of bliss in store.
Such let us deem it, for we look around,
And find a curse that still afflicts the ground;
We find, in spite of all the wonders done,
That man's improvement has but just begun.
Still half the world lies groaning in the gloom,
Error their portion, misery their doom.
The light of truth has never shed its ray
O'er fairest climes that blossom to the day;
Beauteous and bright in trees, and flowers, and fruits,
But cursed with savage men and savage brutes.
And o'er those lands where man is more refined,
Where science blooms and learning cheers the mind,
How vast the torrent of the tears that flow,
How vast the amount of ignorance and woe!
Still are the millions doom'd to sweat and moil,
And pass long days in harsh, incessant toil,
Gaining hard bread, while bitterly they rue
That they are doom'd to labour for the few.
Cold Superstition still her chill imparts;
Still ancient Error rankles in their hearts;
And still, all lost and humbled though they be,
They doff their caps, and shout with noisy glee,
When pass the heroes in triumphal car,
Who mowed them down by thousands in a war!
Their own bad passions make them still the prey
Of men designing and more fierce than they;
Still are they slaves to hate, revenge, and lust,
Fiends to their neighbours, to themselves unjust.
And find a curse that still afflicts the ground;
42
That man's improvement has but just begun.
Still half the world lies groaning in the gloom,
Error their portion, misery their doom.
The light of truth has never shed its ray
O'er fairest climes that blossom to the day;
Beauteous and bright in trees, and flowers, and fruits,
But cursed with savage men and savage brutes.
And o'er those lands where man is more refined,
Where science blooms and learning cheers the mind,
How vast the torrent of the tears that flow,
How vast the amount of ignorance and woe!
Still are the millions doom'd to sweat and moil,
And pass long days in harsh, incessant toil,
Gaining hard bread, while bitterly they rue
That they are doom'd to labour for the few.
Cold Superstition still her chill imparts;
Still ancient Error rankles in their hearts;
And still, all lost and humbled though they be,
They doff their caps, and shout with noisy glee,
43
Who mowed them down by thousands in a war!
Their own bad passions make them still the prey
Of men designing and more fierce than they;
Still are they slaves to hate, revenge, and lust,
Fiends to their neighbours, to themselves unjust.
Yet who shall say these evils shall not cease,
And earth awake to happiness and peace?
They err who say that man to grief is born,
That hopeless thousands are but made to mourn;
Heaven has not issued such a harsh decree—
Man's is the guilt, as man's the misery!
They are no dreamers who, with steadfast hope,
Comprise all nature in their love's wide scope,
And see afar that bright approaching day
When human sorrows shall dissolve away.
Great though the evils that affect us yet,
The sun has risen, and never shall it set!
Bright shine its beams upon a world of woe,
To warm, refine, and gladden all below:
The mild religion, breathing Love and Peace,
Still o'er the earth shall prosper and increase;
Knowledge and Art shall follow in its train,
And darken'd regions smile in light again:
And man become, no more in error blind,
The friend of man, the blessing of his kind.
And earth awake to happiness and peace?
They err who say that man to grief is born,
That hopeless thousands are but made to mourn;
Heaven has not issued such a harsh decree—
Man's is the guilt, as man's the misery!
They are no dreamers who, with steadfast hope,
Comprise all nature in their love's wide scope,
And see afar that bright approaching day
When human sorrows shall dissolve away.
Great though the evils that affect us yet,
The sun has risen, and never shall it set!
Bright shine its beams upon a world of woe,
To warm, refine, and gladden all below:
44
Still o'er the earth shall prosper and increase;
Knowledge and Art shall follow in its train,
And darken'd regions smile in light again:
And man become, no more in error blind,
The friend of man, the blessing of his kind.
And who shall doubt, and say this happy creed
Shall fail the nations in their hour of need?
Who shall assert that man, for ever lost,
Must wander pining, worn, and tempest-tost?
Forbid the thought! the holy work begun,
Shows the true soul the good that may be done.
The olden prophets saw the coming time—
Isaiah sang it in his chant sublime;
And in the manger when the Saviour lay,
The angels hail'd the dawning of the day.
Shall fail the nations in their hour of need?
Who shall assert that man, for ever lost,
Must wander pining, worn, and tempest-tost?
Forbid the thought! the holy work begun,
Shows the true soul the good that may be done.
The olden prophets saw the coming time—
Isaiah sang it in his chant sublime;
And in the manger when the Saviour lay,
The angels hail'd the dawning of the day.
Go forth! ye friends and lovers of your kind!
Traverse the world from Labrador to Ind—
To every clime, go, prospering and elate,
Noble your cause, and be your efforts great:
Go forth, and teach the creed of love and peace,
And all the rest shall follow and increase.
Teach the sad world, and scatter all around
The fruitful seeds upon the ready ground.
Teach! teach the world! and all its mental night
Shall melt away in fulness of the light!
The Hope of heaven shall elevate and cheer,
And Peace and Knowledge strew their blessings here;
Science shall bloom in many a distant isle,
Fierce men grow tame, and wildernesses smile;
War shall no longer dare uplift its hands
To strike the prosperous and happy lands;
Its loud alarum shall the earth forget;—
Men's swords shall rust, or turn to ploughshares yet!
Hark! the glad chorus of the angel choirs
Striking with joyous hands their heavenly lyres!
They sing the anthem that they sang of old
To the poor shepherds watching by the fold;
“On earth good-will, that never more shall cease—
“Glory to God! and universal Peace!”
Look up, ye nations, with exulting eyes,
And hail the hope that brightens in your skies!
Rejoice ye seraphim that pray for man,
He lies no longer under evil ban;
The scales have fallen from his mental sight,
He sees afar and loves th' approaching light.
He, too, perchance, ere ages roll away,
Will join that hymn the angels sing for aye,
And shout the pæan full of love sublime,
In every nook of every distant clime—
“On earth good-will, that never more shall cease—
“Glory to God, and universal Peace!”
Traverse the world from Labrador to Ind—
To every clime, go, prospering and elate,
Noble your cause, and be your efforts great:
45
And all the rest shall follow and increase.
Teach the sad world, and scatter all around
The fruitful seeds upon the ready ground.
Teach! teach the world! and all its mental night
Shall melt away in fulness of the light!
The Hope of heaven shall elevate and cheer,
And Peace and Knowledge strew their blessings here;
Science shall bloom in many a distant isle,
Fierce men grow tame, and wildernesses smile;
War shall no longer dare uplift its hands
To strike the prosperous and happy lands;
Its loud alarum shall the earth forget;—
Men's swords shall rust, or turn to ploughshares yet!
Hark! the glad chorus of the angel choirs
Striking with joyous hands their heavenly lyres!
They sing the anthem that they sang of old
To the poor shepherds watching by the fold;
“On earth good-will, that never more shall cease—
“Glory to God! and universal Peace!”
46
And hail the hope that brightens in your skies!
Rejoice ye seraphim that pray for man,
He lies no longer under evil ban;
The scales have fallen from his mental sight,
He sees afar and loves th' approaching light.
He, too, perchance, ere ages roll away,
Will join that hymn the angels sing for aye,
And shout the pæan full of love sublime,
In every nook of every distant clime—
“On earth good-will, that never more shall cease—
“Glory to God, and universal Peace!”
| The Hope of the World and other poems | |