University of Virginia Library

Swift, o'er the far Erythræan, wings its way
The Slave-Ship of the World before the Flood.
Heaven loured above its course, and gathering clouds
Spake anger. But worse horrour waited it,
The Horrour of great Darkness, on the shore
Whereto it voyaged. Blessèd light enough
Was but permitted to debark the freight
Of captives; then, into the city passed
The Cainite, and his victim. Capitol
Of Fratricide, what glories now adorn
The huge, and still enlarged metropolis?
Vision by gloom excluded; skill of man
Dies unadmired, unused. 'Twas morn—bright morn;
Bright as if meant to make more bitter still
What followed, and, with disappointment, carken
The care, and woe, and agony, which Wrath
Supernal had prepared. Night—starless night,
And moonless, quenched at once the Eye of Day:
Deep sleep o'ercame the Watcher of the Sun;
And Earth was Hades; and as ghosts were men,
Unseen, but not unheard. Shriek, sigh, and sob,
Were frequent; and the ear, grown sensitive
To malady, was startled evermore
With constant sounds of lonely misery:
A solitude, though crowded. When came on
The Darkness first, man converse held with man,
In mutual wonder; but, when it endured
From day to day, by weariness induced,
Silence—dogged, sullen silence, shut the heart,
In its own wretchedness pent broodingly.
By curses yet preceded; for, whenas
Communion ceased, and motion was essayed,
The blinded came in contact, and provoked
Contention in each other; ire, and oaths,
And blasphemy, and malediction, first
Cast on their fellows, next upon themselves:
But chief, 'twas horrible to hear the tone
Of woman's accent changed to malison,
Vindictive as more feminine:—the lips,
The very lips of infancy expressed
Feelings of desecration, and partook
The common madness with the common doom.
And there was random slaughter: father slew
His son in darkness, and the son his sire,
In ignorance, and rage; as each opposed
The other's wished escape from out the cloud
Into what sunnier air, for so they hoped,
Might lie beyond. And reason for the hope
Had they; for, as at ease, and in the light,
They heard the voice of prophets, Woe—Woe—Woe—
Denouncing to the unrepentant still.
It was the voice of Noah, and his Sons,
Who through the darkness moved as in the light;
Protected, by the Holy Ones, from touch
Profane; nor touching in their progress aught
Of opposition, person, brute, or thing.
To them the Highest had appointment given,
To pass with word of warning, though in vain,
Through that great Plague of Darkness; and absolve
The Maker's mercy, and his justice save,
If man should perish, obstinate in guilt.

Such Portents spake impending Judgement nigh;
And well it might have seemed, that now had come
The very doom pronounced. For the dark cloud,
Whose bosom had embraced the sons of men,
Dissolving, shed upon the startled earth
Premonitory Rain; even thus forewarned
Of Power Divine, to accomplish that, prepared
For the unrighteous world, which it foreshewed:
But Wisdom ne'er with Unbelief consorts.
—First, was seen through the accumulated gloom
A flash:—'Twas Lightning.—Next was heard a peal,
And peal on peal succeeded. Thunder called
To Thunder, from his thrones of mountains, where
He reigns ubiquitous, expressive form
Of God in anger, voice armipotent.
And evermore the lightning's sheeted flame
Enlarged, and made a chasm of fearful fire
In that felt darkness' thick, and heavy fog,
Infesting as with death the breath of life.
Then seemed heaven's gates to unshut, and the shower,
Ne'er known till then, to come down in a flood;
Nor ceased the lightning, nor the thunder, then;
Unquenched, its jaggèd jaws still oped, and closed,
Like to a dragon's mouth, outspitting fire,
In the o'erburthened air it purified.

Fear with that deluge fell; fear, that it was
The final doom. But, no: great Mercy sent
The Sign before, to warn, and to reclaim:
Yet with no Rainbow followed—such as, since,
Makes a triumphal arch of the whole Heaven,
For Earth redeemed from tempest once again,
Obedient to the promise. God's own bow,
Which in the clouds he set, encompassing
First Altar raised on the restorèd earth.
Such, too, as circled that Archangel's form,
Who stood in air, on ocean, and on earth,
All three engirdled in that triple round,
Bended on high by the Almighty's hand—
By Noah seen in vision, which foretold
The doom of Deluge, whose receding skirts
Therewith were beautified; for Love had shed
Light on the cloud, and grief to glory turned.
Token of everlasting Covenant
To Earth, and to her savèd worshippers;
Celestial way for Mercy to descend,
Upon a flowery bridge; a fluid arch;
The Brow of God shewn smiling, and appeased,
Visibly shewn, distended, and relaxed.

Sad was it to behold the scenes, and groups
Of men, and beasts, and things inanimate;
After such visitation. Trees were black,
And smouldering, blasted with the electric wrath;
And tower, and temple smitten to their fall:
And on the plain sheep, oxen, steer, and dog,
Like statues, lay, or stood, as the swift stroke
Had found, and left them; life-like, but not living:
Life with a touch quenched, or transfused, or caught
With the quick flash, and to its source returned.
And human forms there, too, were piled in heaps,
Like ruined pillars—woman, man, and child,
Old, young, and middle-agèd; all in groups
Fantastic, or grotesque, or picturesque,
But each in mockery, and most so the last.
Cold—cold stood the survivours, though unscathed,
Shivering; and, soon, the unaccustomed Rain
Hardened to Hail, and agonized the flesh
With keen impression. Straight the symbol changed;
And it was Winter, . . such as winter is
In the restorèd world. Rain, vapours, snows:
Snows—like swan's down, or sea birds, they descend
On the diluvian earth; a volant flock,
Wonderous as novel, sailing on the wind;
Feathery, and flaky, sharp as arrows are:
And the bleak storm, with piercing violence,
And stern in desolation, teaches man
What wretchedness may yet appal his soul,
Or if not, penetrate his shrinking frame,
And task much fortitude of mind to bear,
And much experience to inure the flesh,
Else quivering with smart pain.

And were
The innocent race of Abel then involved
In the just vengeance that thus fell upon
The Cainite for his crime? That were unjust—
And thus in this Heaven's hand was manifest.
For not alone were Noah, and his Sons
Free from the darkness, but the captive race,
And with the prophets were delivered thence.
In Armon's vale, and in the Land of Streams,
They lived at large; while signal miracle
The City of Enos, and the Land of Naid,
Irad's, and Mehujaël's capitols,
Methuselah, and Lamech, visited,
With signs of doom, and witnesses of power.

Free welcome gave the patriarchs of the vale,
O Abel, to thy seed; and young Zateel
The influence of his virtue, birth, and rank
Exerted in behalf of injured worth:
But, chief, with Hori rapt communion held,
By sympathy of soul; alike akin
To the great heart of nature, poets both.
—Born in the exile's land; far, far away
From old traditions, and the sacred soil,
Of high renown for deeds, and names of fame;
Fame honourable in the sight of God,
Not of men only; to the Shepherd Bard
Zateel had pleasing knowledge to impart.

‘Come with me, Hori;’ said the lovely youth—
(O both were lovely; amiable they
As Jonathan, and David, singer sweet,
In after-ages, whereof may be read
In Hebrew Scripture episodes divine.)—
‘Come with me, Hori; and in Armon's vale,
I will instruct thee in the wondrous spot
Where Adam was created, ere his Maker
Set in the garden Man whom he had formed—
Till then the child of Nature, thence of Grace.
Moreover, I will shew thee the sad Vale
Where fell the father of thy sinless seed,
Beneath the hand of Cain. Nay, weep not, Hori.’

‘It is no grief, Zateel; or if it be,
It pleases more than it afflicts—it soothes
With a calm joy that elevates the soul;
As when the dews have fallen, the fields revive,
And look with gladness into the blue eye,
And glittering face of the encircling heaven.