University of Virginia Library

Onward to Naid, Ham, and Elihu wend:
And, through the gates of that metropolis,
Pass with the miracle of multitudes,
Ferocious once, now tamed—increasing train,
In countless numbers it were vain to tell.

The tall Giraffe,—since Ethiopian brute,
A Cameleopard, male, and female here;
The male the taller, with high-raisèd chest,
And taper neck, and head; placid of mien,
Dun, with brown spots, his hue, and bristly-maned:
The Monkey, with the crescent on his brow,
Like the night's borrowed sun, the crescent moon,
Befitting symbol, mimicry of man:
The Oran Outang—wild man of the woods—
Ape, and Baboon, with face for ever old;
Ingenious race, of many species they,
The wilderness their home; in reverence held,
By superstitious husbandman, who views
The herd of satyrs, issuing from their woods,
Seize the collected produce of his toil,
The cultivated fruits, and fain submits,
In apathy, his orchard to the rape:
The Squirrel, various—Tamia named, and Palm;
A social tribe, roof-builders, and within
Domestic sanctuary entering free,
Like the red-breasted bird, to pick the crumbs
That fall beneath the hospitable board
Familiar. Provident, and active these,
Protecting from the wind their mossy nests,
High on the forkèd branches, and, in store
For winter, laying up their proper food,
Nuts, chestnuts, acorns, berries, fruit, and maze,
Hid in tree-hollow, or beneath the ground;
There burrowing long galleries, passaging
To meet apartments, chambers separate
For each variety of treasured meat;
Or in migration, from the pine, or birch,
They build their boat of bark, to cross the lake,
And woo the wind with obvious tail upraised.
Grey, red, and black—some flying, or so fast
Leaping, no swiftest arrow sent from bow
In sport, or strife, e'er sped so swift as they
From tree to tree, by moonlight foraging,
Or skimming through the air from branch to branch,
They feed on leaves, and insects, . . all the day
Still nestling in the hollows of the trees.
— The double-wombed Opossum next, who loves
Trees for her dwelling, in a marshy site,
Or by the sea—the dreaming Civet too,
Slumbering the day, and prowling through the night
For birds, and smallest deer; draining the gore
Ere gorging on the flesh; yet odourous both.
— The Glutton, darting often, from high bough,
On Elk, or Rein-deer's head, and tearing thence
The eyes, and sucking of its blood, until
Death ease the prey of anguish; when he feasts,
Feasts till no food remain, or sleep surprise
The gorgèd feaster; then, even by the side
Of his poor victim, sinks into repose.
— The Weazel, slender, sleek, and agile; keen
For blood; either inhabitant of caves,
And rocky fissures, or of sheltering woods,
According to their kinds—the Pine, and Beech,
And Sable Martens, costliest of the tribe.
— The Ratel, ravisher of honied combs,
Ash-grey, and black, and loose though tough of hide;
Him guides the Honey-cuckoo with his note,
To the sweet treasures that he loves so well,
In burrows dug by quadrupeds, laid up
For the small Bees, unconscious service. There
The Indicator leads, itself too frail
To storm the hive, the Ratel; flying slow,
And halting in its flight; and evermore
Admonishing with warning voice, until
The spoil is neared, then, ceasing from its note,
Quietly perched upon a tree, awaits
Its share of plunder, rendered for reward.
Oft too, ere twilight eve, the Ratel sits,
Shading the rays of the declining sun,
With one paw, from his peering eyes, until
A flight of bees, returning to their homes,
Direct him where his pillage may be lodged.
Some say, by Ganges, and the Jumna, too,
He prowls at night for newly-buried corse,
And scratches up the unprotected grave.
—The Beaver, architect by Nature taught,
And skilful builder, fetching from afar
Materials for the structure of his house,
Cemented well; a rodent animal,
For with his teeth he strips, and separates
The bark, his food, and wherewithal he builds;
A populous villager; or hermit shorn
Of former instinct, if of means deprived—
Neither less wise, the Ants. In peace with them
The Ant-eaters, great and less, with sheathèd tongue,
Folding within their mouth;—protruded whence,
They from the Ant-holes draw their proper prey.
—The Loris, slowly paced, which creeps abroad
At night, for prey, from branch to branch, of sleep
The guiltless murtherer; and the Lemurs quick
But gentle, feeding but on fruits, and roots,
Living on trees, and basking in the sun,
A social band, with white aspect, or black,
Rufous, or many hued. The Rabbit kind,
The Agoutis, and the Pacas; with the small
Chinchillas delicate, silken of fur,
Fine as the spider's web, a cleanly tribe—
The lively Jerboa, and the Manis scaled—
The alpine Marmot, provident to store,
For winter, moss, and hay, within the holes
Formed in the mountain-sides; and there they sleep,
The door well-guarded first, to shut out cold,
And raging storm, as well as prowling foe.
The gentle Cavies, though irrational;
Yet like thereto, how many of the race
That rule them, eat, and sleep, and propagate,
And do no more—The Dormouse of the wood,
Of hedge, and bush—The Mole, that makes its nest
Beneath the ground, of herbage and of moss,
Warm bed—The slender Fitche, that both the wood
And thicket haunts, of barn, and hen-roost foe—
The Kangaroo, on its hind legs sustained,
And moving fast, high bounding and afar,
Its fore too brief, and but as hands employed
To dig with, or to feed. Named from its voice,
The Gnou, gregarious brute, like to the horse
In body, mane and tail, ox-like of head
And horns, and for his eye, the bright Gazelle's
Not brighter. Fiery-eyed, red glaring, keen
For blood, the yellow Ferret pale; now quenched
Its wonted ever kindled appetite.
—The small Racoon, a bounding animal,
At home on plain, or tree; him ocean oft
O'erwhelms at flow of tide, found on the shore
In quest of shell-fish, by the oyster quick
His foot enclosed, and prisoned to the spot:
Now, with the rest, in happy freedom grouped,
Obedient to Elihu's voice divine.
—Attended thus, Ham, and Elihu rode,
Right through the gates of Enos—and within
The streets of that great city wend along.

Wonderous array, but far more wonderous still
The unwondering apathy of gazing crowds.
—In knots of disputants, the Citizens
Were grouped, engaged on argument too great
To spare attention, though by greatest sight
The world might witness wooed. A race they were
Of meagre artizans, mechanic slaves,
Whose boast of old grew that the common weal
By them was built, and nourished; authours sole
Of riches they, producers of the corn,
The oil, the clothing, and conveniences,
The luxuries which stablish social life;
And right it was that who created thus,
They should distribute wealth. High glee was theirs,
When Tubalcain, with fair Naamah vain,
His sister, and his spouse, held o'er the realm
Dominion. Willing, to her various lusts
Stern Tubalcain the wed Naamah left,
And bent to state economy his mind—
Skilful or to commence, or to promote
Invention, manufacture, and supply.

Labour he urged, and diligence he loved,
And whoso would of him employment found,
And what they made he kept in public store,
And sold to who could purchase. Thus became
Great Tubalcain of human industry
Proprietor, and lord; and, for exchange,
Had with his superscription metal stamped
For current coin, whence lust of lucre grew,
Root of all evil. Soon he made decree,
That none should weave, or knit; or sew, or shape
Sandal, or raiment, save of stuff supplied
From out his storehouse, to be then returned,
And wages paid for labour, whence again
At a taxed price, and with a duty-mark,
'Twas issued to the buyer. Thus was he
A princely merchant, a mechanic king;
Nor many wanting were, who saw, in such
Confusion of all orders blent in one,
A loved equality of man with man,
And knew not all were masters thus, or slaves:
Bound by no generous, but by sordid links
Of commerce, that the finer feelings blunts,
If gain alone be sought. Soon, like a blight,
Gold withered happiness; and thus it proved
Food of digestion hard to body, or soul,
Both in the city, and the lands about
Of Enos, and of Naid. Awhile, appeared
Prosperity to smile, and plain it was,
Both court, and courtiers—if so called might be
Either, that fitlier were from stithy named,
Mart, or exchange, and chapmen—flourished well.
Far countries, in their produce, dealt with them,
And took the clothing, with the corn, and oil,
At higher price, which might have been at home
Better consumed; hence, mid abundance, lacked
The natives, working on in wretchedness—
Now misery cried loud, and would be heard;
What then? its wants invention must supply;
And soon machines were reared, and engines built,
Of wonderous power, and structure intricate,
That might the needed labour substitute,
And infancy might tend. Now was no scant
Of produce, still the poor were very poor;
Raiment was wrought, but clothed not them; and food
Went to all markets, but it fed them not;
And, worse, ere long, constructions first designed
To aid in labour superseded soon,
And to their other ills, next indolence,
The fruitful mother of pernicious moods,
Was added; crime succeeded, murther last,
Personal, and judicial—horrid waste
Of human life, and human energy.

Meanwhile, the child was tasked from earliest morn
To latest eve, watching the processes
Of wheels, and chains ingenious, so to earn
A pittance for its parents; urged to toil
Excessive by the force of blows, and dying,
Even hour by hour, as standing at its work—
A constant martyrdom, but soon to end,
Since age mature, of man or womanhood,
Seldom attained, the grave quick closed on grief,
And shut the murthered infant safely up
From the oppressor, in the house of hope.
Meantime, for them whose hands could find no work,
Idle perforce, no means were found to give
Knowledge that might the spirit cultivate,
And rear a class that should, with moral power,
Win for instruction of the citizen
The means of life, reaping of temporal things
Guerdon for spiritual, imparted free;—
But rather by their rulers were they taught
To scorn religious ministry, and glow
With hate 'gainst Eden's patriarchy, and seek
In war provision, peace gave not for life.
—Hence, were the populace disputing now,
How to assail the Mount of Paradise,
And find an end, unreasoning, of their ills,
By seizing that Palladium of the Earth
For their possession: holding like a charm,
Whence plenty might, in some mysterious way,
Accrue to wisdom, and to folly both,
And vice might revel on the gifts of heaven.
And many a form had Hherem there assumed,
With Satan, and Azaziel, to inflame
The imbruted mind with passions fiercely wild.

On—on Ham and Elihu passed—on—on,
Even to the palace gates. The menials, there,
At them, and at their retinue, awhile
Gazed with brief admiration, and went in
To Tubalcain, Naamah, and their court,
To tell them of a miracle. Aloud
Then laughed the royal pair, incurious they
Of aught beyond the circle of their aims,
And unbelieving. So forth of the town,
Into the fields and forests, hasted on,
Ham, and Elihu, on their mission bent.
—Thence took they bird, and beast. There, at thy voice
Divine, Elihu, following, obeyed
The Ibex, long of horn and numerous,
According to his years; his burthened head,
Though brief, is bearded, wanderer of Alps,
And dweller on their summits: the small Roe,
The Roe, though small yet strong, and great in craft,
Baffling the hound, and cheating of his scent,
As skilled to fly as he is to pursue:—
The Tapir of the wilderness, lone brute,
In far seclusion, buried in the depth
Of forest solitudes, veiled not alone
From man's intrusion, but the fellowship
Of his own kind;—him doth the hunter woo
By imitative whistle, sharp, and shrill,
Like to his own, then twangs the poisoned shaft,
And the poor beast is hit; but better fares,
Obstructed on his passage to the stream
By race canine; there, standing, he resists
Their worrying, and them, seizing by the necks,
Whirls to afar, not free from loss of flesh.
Now social came the Tapirs, and with them
The Peccaries, a tusky swinish tribe,
Collared, or else white-lipped, a forest-race,
In pairs, and families discovered one,
The other banded in a numerous troop;
Fording with care the current broad, and swift,
And from the opposing bank still forthright on,
They hold their way destructive, scathing all
The planter's hopes; now guiltless, with the Boar,
Came they—or wild, or civilized, brave brute,
Though gluttonous; and the foul Hog, and Sow,
That to her vomit evermore returns,
Submissive now to law of purer strain.

But vain it were to paint the miracle
In verbal hues, and to express the train
Of creatures that there walked, or leaped, or flew.
The Birds, the glorious Birds, that made the air
As glorious in their flight, or decked the earth
With ornament of plumage numerous.
The spurless, but not crestless Curassow,
The galeated and the razor-billed,
The rufous and globose—the Peury, too,
The clamourous Guan, with the lady Crane,
The Crownèd, and the Crex, and Trumpeter,
The Heron, cleft of bill; the Bittern, raised;
The Spoonbill, and the Ibis; while the Stork,
Both white, and black, foremost with head, and neck,
Cleaved, large of wings, with legs reverted long,
Rapid the air, and matched the wild Curlews.

With these they left the region; journeying, till
They reached the junction of the rivers, where
Elihu smote the riven waters straight,
With his prophetic mantle. On each side,
They parted like a wall, and in the midst
Ham, and Elihu passed, with all their train,
By power miraculous guided. Such their guard,
By day, and anxious night, till their return
To Eden's land; then safely, in the Place
Of the First Man's Creation, sought they spot
For refuge; and there found for them, and theirs;
Ham, and Elihu; with the bird, and beast,
Their gathering, according to the Word
Of the Almighty, that into the Ark
Two of each living creature of all flesh,
Of every kind, there to preserve alive,
Both male, and female, clean, and the unclean,
Of fowl, and cattle, Noah should bring in,
And take to him of all food edible,
As food for him, and them. And such high charge,
Spite what since chanced, to Ham was trusted then:
And learn from this, although a Father's curse
Pursue the race of Ham, that there with them
The Angel of Compassion still abides,
With miracle from Nature to redeem,
Turning to Eden desart wilderness;
Hence, shew them mercy in your justest acts,
Then justest when most merciful they seem,
And greet the Brethren with a holy kiss.