The poetical works of James Montgomery collected by himself |
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EMBLEMS. |
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 | The poetical works of James Montgomery |  |
359
EMBLEMS.
An evening cloud, in brief suspense,
Was hither driven and thither;
It came I saw not whence,
It went, I knew not whither:
I watch'd it changing, in the wind,
Size, semblance, form, and hue,
Lessening and fading, till behind
It left no speck on heaven's pure blue.
Was hither driven and thither;
It came I saw not whence,
It went, I knew not whither:
I watch'd it changing, in the wind,
Size, semblance, form, and hue,
Lessening and fading, till behind
It left no speck on heaven's pure blue.
Amidst the marshall'd host of night
Shone a new star supremely bright;
With marvelling eye, well pleased to err,
I hail'd that prodigy;—anon,
It fell,—it fell like Lucifer,
A flash,—a blaze,—a train,—'twas gone;
And then I sought in vain its place,
Throughout the infinite of space.
Shone a new star supremely bright;
With marvelling eye, well pleased to err,
I hail'd that prodigy;—anon,
It fell,—it fell like Lucifer,
A flash,—a blaze,—a train,—'twas gone;
And then I sought in vain its place,
Throughout the infinite of space.
Dew-drops, at day-spring, deck'd a line
Of gossamer so frail, so fine,
A gnat's wing shook it:—round and clear
As if by fairy-fingers strung,
Like orient pearls at beauty's ear,
In trembling brilliancy they hung
Upon a rosy briar, whose bloom
Shed nectar round them, and perfume.
Of gossamer so frail, so fine,
A gnat's wing shook it:—round and clear
As if by fairy-fingers strung,
Like orient pearls at beauty's ear,
In trembling brilliancy they hung
Upon a rosy briar, whose bloom
Shed nectar round them, and perfume.
Ere long exhaled in limpid air,
Some mingled with the breath of morn,
While some slid singly, here and there,
Like tears by their own weight down borne;
At length the film itself collapsed, and where
The pageant glitter'd, lo! a naked thorn.
Some mingled with the breath of morn,
While some slid singly, here and there,
Like tears by their own weight down borne;
At length the film itself collapsed, and where
The pageant glitter'd, lo! a naked thorn.
What are the living?—hark! a sound
From grave and cradle crying,
By earth and ocean echoed round,—
“The living are the dying!”
From grave and cradle crying,
By earth and ocean echoed round,—
“The living are the dying!”
From infancy to utmost age,
What is man's scene of pilgrimage?
The passage to death's portal!
The moment we begin to be,
We enter on the agony,—
The dead are the immortal;
They live not on expiring breath,
They only are exempt from death.
What is man's scene of pilgrimage?
The passage to death's portal!
The moment we begin to be,
We enter on the agony,—
The dead are the immortal;
They live not on expiring breath,
They only are exempt from death.
Cloud-atoms, sparkles of a falling star,
Dew-drops on gossamer, all are:
What can the state beyond us be?
Life?—Death?—Ah! no, a greater mystery;
What thought hath not conceived, ear heard, eye seen;
Perfect existence from a point begun;
Part of what God's eternity hath been,—
Whole immortality belongs to none,
But Him, the First, the Last, the Only One.
Dew-drops on gossamer, all are:
What can the state beyond us be?
Life?—Death?—Ah! no, a greater mystery;
What thought hath not conceived, ear heard, eye seen;
Perfect existence from a point begun;
Part of what God's eternity hath been,—
Whole immortality belongs to none,
But Him, the First, the Last, the Only One.
| The poetical works of James Montgomery | |