Ballads and Lyrical poems :: :: University of Virginia Library

Methought on the Ægean sand
I saw a mighty Spirit stand,
Clad in his majesty alone;—
His large fair brow seem'd Wisdom's throne,
And from his face a glory shone.

II

Another Spirit, great as he,
Stood by the far-off Northern Sea;
Erect his port, sublime his air;
Restless he seem'd, and full of care,
But godlike, and divinely fair.

III

And though between them, as they stood,
All Europe stretch'd its plenitude
Of populous lands; and mountains cold
Raised their bare peaks, and oceans roll'd,
Each could the other's face behold.

IV

Each could with each hold converse high,
And mingle voices in the sky;
Sounding far off, not loud, but clear,
Upon my senses—fill'd with fear—
As from some interlunar sphere.

V

“Men,” said the first, “inspired by thee,
Talk of their high philosophy;
Their skill, their science, and their laws;
Their tracing of effect to cause;
Their arts that win the world's applause;

VI

“Their happy progress evermore,
From good to better than before;
Their new discoveries sublime;
Their knowledge spread from clime to clime;
Their triumphs over space and time.

VII

“They vaunt their manners pure and mild,
And their religion undefiled;
While all the good that I have wrought
Is banish'd from their daily thought,
Or, if remember'd, set at nought.

VIII

“Vain of their progress, they contemn
All arts that have not sprung from them;
And, swoll'n with pride, they cannot see,
If I were not, thou couldst not be,
And that the fruit proclaims the tree.”

IX

“Nay!” said the second! “'tis not so;
They give the reverence which they owe:
Thy memories are the theme of schools—
Thy maxims are their daily rules;
And none despise thee but the fools.

X

“They own with wonder and with awe
Thine ancient wisdom as their law;
And that thy glories still inspire
The sweetest music of the lyre,
And steep its chords in heavenly fire;—

XI

“That all the arts which most refine,
And make humanity divine,
Were caught from thee; and that the page
Which tells thy deeds from age to age,
Is of itself an heritage.

XII

“That an immortal beauty girds
Thy form, and sanctifies thy words;
And that thy very name can raise
Visions that fill us with amaze,
From the abyss of former days;—

XIII

“That mighty glimpses of the truth
Flash'd in the fancies of thy youth;
And that thy errors, darkly bright,
Were not all error, even in sight
Of those who know a purer light.

XIV

“All this they see, but cannot own
Thou wert perfection overthrown;
Or that as Time, with onward pace,
Removed old systems from their place,
Thou wert the best for every race.

XV

“They will not own that for the few
The toil of millions should be due—
Or that the multitudes of man,
Mere serfs and helots in thy plan,
Should groan for ever under ban;—

XVI

“That thou shouldst grind them at thy will,
And at thy pleasure maim or kill;
Or make them build thy columns high,
Or pyramids to dare the sky;
Or force them in thy broils to die.

XVII

“They know, though beauteous and refined,
Thou wert a scourge to human kind;
And they rejoice thy power has pass'd,
And that the time has come at last
When chains must fall, however fast;

XVIII

“And when the many, wearied long,
Borne down by tyranny and wrong,
May lift their heads and look around,
Proud of the knowledge lately found,
They are not serfs upon the ground;

XIX

“But freemen, heritors by birth
Of the enjoyments of the earth;
Free not alone to till the soil,
But to partake the fruits of toil—
The corn, the vintage, and the oil;

XX

“Free not alone, as Nature meant,
To live their life, and die content;
But free to teach, and to be taught,
To read the Book with wisdom fraught,
To think—and interchange their thought.”

XXI

“Ay,” said the first, “'tis brightly drawn—
Thou'st made a noontide of the dawn;
For wheresoe'er I turn mine eyes
I see a crowd of agonies—
I hear the murmurs that arise.

XXII

“Though great thy triumphs, greater still
The aggregate of human ill;—
And narrow, narrow is the span
On which, to bless the sons of man,
The tide of effort ever ran.

XXIII

“Look round the nations and compare—
Examine that thou mayst declare
What vast improvement has begun,
And what two thousand years have done
For those that toil beneath the sun.

XXIV

“The people grovell'd in my prime—
They grovel in thy happier time;
And suff'ring then—they suffer now:
And if I left them slaves, hast thou
Imprinted freedom on their brow?

XXV

“Hast thou giv'n virtue to the base,
Or flash'd thy knowledge in their face?
Hast thou convey'd to every shore
The tidings thy Messiah bore,
That Peace should reign for evermore?

XXVI

“Hast thou, in lands supremely bless'd
With thy refinements, done thy best
To ease the ills thou canst not cure,
To teach the wretched to endure,
And shower thy blessings on the poor?”

XXVII

“I am but young,” the Spirit said;
“But yesterday I raised my head,
And late began to understand—
A mere new-comer in the land—
What was expected at my hand.

XXVIII

“The mission unfulfill'd by thee
Has gain'd some impetus from me;
And every triumph of thy mind,
Not unforgotten for mankind,
Has been led further and refined.

XXIX

“Though narrow yet the sphere of thought,
It has been widen'd since I wrought;
And every seed which thou hast sown
For human benefit, has grown,
And larger leaves and branches thrown,

XXX

“Beneath my care. And though dark night
May spread a veil o'er human sight,
I see far off the dawning ray:
I labour to prepare the way,
And watch the coming of the day.”

XXXI

And as the Spirit spoke, his eyes
Flash'd heavenly fire—and to the skies
Pointing his hand he turn'd to me,
And said—“Thou dreamer, wake and see
The Paradise that earth might be!”

XXXII

As one upon a mountain-top
Standing alone, whom mists enwrap
So densely, that he seeks in vain
Amid the cloud of sleet and rain
To see the wonders of the plain,

XXXIII

Shouts when he sees the cloud dispersed,
And in full glory at one burst,
A world disclosed—hill, valley, town,
Glittering in sunlight miles adown—
River and lake and highlands brown;—

XXXIV

So I, in ecstasy and awe,
Look'd up believing, and I saw
That from mine eyes a mist was roll'd,
That heaven was bright as burnish'd gold,
And earth had visions to unfold.

XXXV

I saw the world before me pass;—
As in some great magician's glass
The adept sees phantasmas, dim
To all men else, but clear to him,
As in the light and shade they swim;—

XXXVI

So I beheld the mighty Earth
Rolling through ether; all its girth
Exhaling glory. O'er my sight
Flow'd the full tide of heavenly light,
Until the view seem'd infinite.

XXXVII

All happy were its populous lands;
Therein no man with willing hands
Needed to pine for want of bread;
For the full banquet that was spread
Allow'd all creatures to be fed.

XXXVIII

And toil, a burden borne by man
In sorrow since the world began,
No more his tender bones oppress'd
Until supremest joy was rest,
Or bow'd his head upon his breast.

XXXIX

But iron servants wrought his will,—
Great engines fashion'd by his skill
For every art—to spin—to coil—
To delve the mine, to till the soil,—
And free the human race from toil.

XL

And not alone by vapour driven,
But by the storms and calms of heaven—
By winds, however they might blow,
And by the tides in ebb or flow,
The mighty wheels went to and fro.

XLI

The nearest and remotest lands
Were foes no more, but join'd their hands
For mutual happiness and peace;
And bade their old dissensions cease,
That they might flourish and increase.

XLII

Too wise for bloodshed, War no more
Made demons of them as before;
Religion sow'd no poison-seed—
None wish'd his neighbour evil speed,
Or bore him malice for his creed.

XLIII

But as I look'd with tearful eyes—
Tears sprung of joys and sympathies—
The colours of my vision grew
Many in one; and hue with hue
Was blent, and faded from my view.

XLIV

And a still voice said to my heart—
“Though but a dream thou seest depart,
And great the load of actual ill,
Hope in thy waking—labour still—
Deeds are fruition of the will.

XLV

“The smallest effort is not lost;—
Each wavelet on the ocean toss'd
Aids in the ebb-tide or the flow;
Each rain-drop makes some flow'ret blow
Each struggle lessens human woe.”