The Judgement of the Flood :: :: University of Virginia Library

And when these days were ended, Lamech spake;
‘O that to me no children had been born.
The Comfort of my work is rapt away;
I know not whither; even like Enoch gone,
Perhaps with God, but still to Lamech lost.
O that to me no children had been born.
All slain, slain, slain, by Murther's cruel hands;
All—and their families—their little ones—
Their wives—sons—daughters; withered, past away,
Like visions of the night. Ah, I have dreamed
That I had children. 'Twas a lying dream:
I waked, and found I was a barren man.
And well I was so; for had I not been,
They had been martyred. So they were; they were.
O that the sap of life had been dried up
Within me; and the marrow of my bones
Perished, from the beginning of my days;
Or they had ne'er begun. Yea; cursèd be
The day that hailed me first: and on the night
When it was said, a man-child is conceived,
Be malediction. Let it see no dawn:
But be for ever lost to blessèd light;
Not only of the sun, but moon, or star.
Why died I not beneath my mother's heart?
Then, had I now been still; been quiet now:
I should have slept: then, sweet repose were mine;
With Patriarchs, and with Prophets—Adam, Seth,
Enosh, and Cainan; with Mahalaleel,
And Jared; and, perhaps, with Enoch too:
With kings, who built them places desolate;
With princes, who had gold, and houses full
Of silver. There, the wicked cease from troubling,
The weary be at rest—the prisoners, there,
Unheard the oppressor's voice: the small, and great;

The servant, master-free; there rest together.
O in the many chambers of the grave,
There dwell high thoughts, and populous memories;
There are my treasures hid, there let me go.’

Then Japhet answered:
‘Wherefore wouldst thou leave
Even us who love thee? Are not we thy sons,
Sons of thy son, even Noah? Let us be
In place of whom thou grievest.’

But Lamech cried—
‘O God, that thou wouldst grant me my request;
Spare not, destroy me. Is he Man, who would
Teach to my grey hairs wisdom? Have I erred?
Would he reprove the desperate? Teach me then—
Submiss am I to learn—thou sage to teach—
Why should I not loathe life? Why should I wish
To live for ever? Are the days of Man
Aught else but vanity? and is there not
A time appointed, when reward shall be?
And shall I not complain; and not express
Anguish of spirit, bitterness of soul?’

A solemn thought then sate on Japhet's brow:
‘A happy man is he whom God corrects;
Therefore despise not chastening divine.
Speaketh not God in dreams? Here, watching thee-
Thought was tumultuous; visionary, night;
Deep sleep on all had fallen; and none beheld,
Or heard, beside myself, the fearful Thing:
For lo, a Spirit passed before my face.
I trembled, my bones rattled horribly;
My flesh crept, and its hair all bristled up:
I could not choose but gaze—and It stood still—
That Shape, if shape it were; for what its form
Discern I might not. But an Image stood
Before me, silent: then, I heard a Voice—

‘Shall Man, who mourns, be justified before
The Almighty?—Man, in best estate, be pure
In his Creator's presence? Angels he
With folly charges; and is man exempt,
Dwelling in clay, and founded in the dust;
Crushed ere the moth, and perished ere the eve;
His beauty first departed, and devoid
Of wisdom; mind with body even decayed?’
—Then be not wroth: commit thy cause to God.
Thy seed he can increase; thine offspring yet
Perpetuate, like the verdure of the earth;
And save thee from the grave till latest age,
A shock of corn in season fully ripe.’
‘I know it, of a truth;’—then, Lamech cried—
‘Even so the unwritten word of Enoch saith,
Tradition sacred, that no flesh shall be
Before its Maker just. Were I to say,
That I am perfect, I were proved perverse;
Nay, grant me perfect, the Supreme destroys
The pious, and the impious both alike;
For what avails the excellence of dust?
Hence is my soul aweary of my life;
For he hath given the earth into the grasp
Of wicked men . . the blessed land of trees
And herbs, and fruits, and waters, . . hill, and vale,
Though holy. God; thou hidest in thy heart
Decree divine; I sin, thou markest me;
Am wicked, and woe to me; righteous, yet
My head I may not lift; yet shall I die

Even as the sinner . . die in grief, and gloom.
And what advantage have I over him?
Are we not equal? Equal are the dead,
Nor look on light for ever. Meanwhile, he,
With meat, and drink; with plunder, rapine, lust,
Wealth, and good days; hath been made arrogant:
But the poor saint has sorrowed, while he lived,
And died in trouble; going to the land
Of darkness, and the shadowy vale of Death;
The shadowy vale of Death, of order void;
And where the very light as darkness is—
Let me alone, and soothe me as I may.’

The passages here and elsewhere referred to as “the unwritten word of Enoch,” are to be found in the pseudo Ethiopian prophecy; and which is thus used on the hypothesis of its including some traditions of Enoch, though not the genuine Book of the patriarch; such genuine Book being subsequently given in this poem, as supposed to be revealed by inspiration to the Poet.

Here Lamech paused; and Shem to him replied:
‘Art thou as Adam, first-created man,
Or wast thou made before the hills, and hast
The Almighty's secret heard? Or hast thou quaffed,
Like Enoch, wisdom from the fount of God,
With whom the spirit of instruction dwells,
And power, and the souls of those who sleep
In righteousness? Sayest thou, that he destroys
The perfect, that of thee may none infer
Aught other from the doom on thee divulged?
But gave not Enoch to Methuselah
The word of wisdom? Blessèd—blessèd all
The righteous; blessèd they, for unto them
Shall mercy come, and utter might accrue,
And sinners be delivered. Would my eyes
Were clouds of water, and my tears might flow,
Like to the rain that Noah hath foretold
The world shall overwhelm; then, might I weep
What woes shall seize the wicked. To the wise
The earth was given; neither need they fear
The sinner's strength. Breaks in the oppressor's ears
A dreadful sound; late by the Cainite heard,
When he his hand stretched out against his God.

Woe, woe, to him who builds his house with crime;
And lays of fraud foundation; and acquires
Silver, and gold. His riches shall depart;
His chambers be subverted. Woe to him,
Who to his neighbour renders recompense
Of evil.—Woe unto the proud of power,
Who feedeth on the glory of the corn,
And drinketh at the sources of the spring;
To him shall be denied Life's Fountain pure,
Nor of the Tree of Life shall he partake.
Woe to the crafty; to the simple, woe—
Contemplatists of earth, effeminate,
And clad like women, gorgeously, and vain:
Like water, shall their falsehood flow away,
And folly. Woe to him, the obdured in heart—
The stained with blood, the witnesser of lies,
To him who worships idols, or who makes.
But wait in hope, ye righteous; in the day
Of suffering, your posterity shall soar
Like eagles, and your nests be built on high,
Safe in the rocks; and, in the rocky clefts,
From sight ungodly be securely hid.
—Therefore, prepare thy heart; and stretch thy hands
Toward thy God, O Lamech:—put away
Whate'er offence be thine; so unto thee
Shall restoration come; thy griefs forgot;
Or but remembered as the waters are,
When passed away. Then, clearer than the noon
Shall be thine age, more glowing than the morn.’

These sublime passages are all adaptations from the Ethiopian Book of Enoch.

Hereat, in passionate grief, Lamech exclaimed:
‘Heard I not Enoch? Am not even I
Son of Methuselah, sire of thy sire?

'Tis now long since that Wisdom found no place,
On earth, she might inhabit; though of old
She came to dwell among the sons of men,
Ere Cain forsook her presence. Banished thus,
She to her throne returned, her heavenly seat,
Amidst the angels; Sister-spouse of him,
The Secret, and Elect, whose name was named,
Even in the dwelling of the Holy Ones,
Ere that the sun, and starry signs were made.
Since then, of all mankind, she thee hath chose
To visit only, and with thee hath vowed
To live, and die. Better it thee befits,
Pity to shew to sorrow, than rebuke.
The arrows of the Almighty are within,
O, and their poison drinks my spirit up.
But wherefore should I be to thee, as one
Whose slipping feet are like a lamp despised
To him who walks at ease? Yet well I know,
That Wisdom unto thee hath not yet shewn
The palace of her treasure; nor declared
The secret path thereto, by lion's whelps
Untrod as yet, by lion never passed,
Known to no fowl, by vulture's eye unseen;
Since thou not knowest, that who would seek out this,
Must rise to higher wisdom, than concerns
Life natural, or spiritual life;
Whereof experience none hath yet been had.
Yet ask the beasts, and they shall teach thee true;
The fowls of air shall tell thee;—earth, and sea,
With voice oracular, avouch—with Him
Abides the Soul of every living thing,
The breath of all mankind—All-wise is he,
And his alike deceiver, and deceived.
Herein is wisdom; whoso knows her ways,
He can declare, that good, and evil both
Befall the righteous, and the wicked, too.

Nay, that the wicked prosper, and hold rule
In the dominions of sublunar life,
Such pregnant instance in these days have we,
Divine interposition needs prevent,
And he, who first created, now destroy.
They do remove the landmarks; and compel
Flocks not their own away, whereof they feed—
Afar they drive the orphan's Ass, and take
The widow's Ox in pledge; themselves meanwhile,
Like the Onagras of the desart, prey
Upon the needy, yet in their own fields
Reap every one his corn, and gather in
His vintage. This our eyes have seen; and how
The murtherer, rising with the day, hath slain
The poor; and, in the night, is as a thief.
Did He not now permit the robber band
To slay my offspring, children of the Just?
For is he not Jehovah? and besides,
There is no God but he. He formed the light,
And darkness he produced. Peace is his work,
And evil he creates. Be silent, clay.
—Yet will I trust in thee. Crush not, O God,
A withered leaf, thus driven to and fro.
My purposes are broken, with the heart
Which thought them; and for me the light is brief,
Anxious awaiting darkness, and the grave.
Corruption, welcome; thou my father art—
Hail, worm; my mother, and my sister thou.
Yet earth hides not my blood; nor God rejects
A father's tears. He knows my prayer is pure.’