University of Virginia Library


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ODES.

I. TO THE POWERS OF THE UNIVERSE.

Benedicite, omnes Virtutes Domini, Domino.

Hail, Powers sublime, all hail!
Which in the natural or spiritual worlds,
Or here, or in far space,
Or in the far infinity beyond,
His wondrous work perform;
Of whom ye are, and whom
Inanimate or animate, ye serve!
Hail, first to you,
Dread armies of the Lord!
Ye glorious Seraphim and Cherubim!
And Thrones sublime!
Ye countless Dominations, Virtues, Powers!
Ye Principalities! Archangels bright!
And Angels ever blest,
In solemn order ranged!
Hail, Spirits of the Just,
Whose prayer is strength!
Prophets, Apostles, Martyrs of all time!
Virgins, and Confessors, and Pontiffs good!
In purest bliss
Reigning with Heaven's high Queen!

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Next hail to you,
Great powers of this our sphere!—
Or who in Holy Church,
Regents of Christ,
His Sacraments dispense,
And jurisdiction wield,
Priesthood, Episcopate, and higher still
St. Peter's central throne—
Or who on chair of civil state
Seated supreme,
High o'er the stormy world
Your iron sceptres wave,
Types of His reign to come!
Hail, too, O ye,
Grand movers of mankind!
Sages and Poets dear,
Heroes of land and sea!
Of Art the lords!
And under whatsoever name or form,
O Genius, all thy sons!
Ye! chief of all!
Or great as known to fame,
Or greater still unknown,
Th' Inventors of the world!
By whose laborious search
High Providence through ever-widening ways
This human scheme evolves.
Nor of thyself, O Mind,
Unmindful here be thou,
Nor of thy powers and faculties divine;—
Intelligence supreme!
Thought, Memory, Will,
Conscience, Imagination, Feeling, Sense!
Choice flowers of life!
By grace yet lovelier made.

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Ye last, all hail!
Dim Forces, which mankind
The Powers of nature call,
Thou, Instinct deep!
Pure mystery of God!
Reigning amid the worlds of living things!
And thou, great sister Force!
Of Gravitation named,
Sovereign amid material elements!
Nor less ye other kindred Influences
Unsearchable in might,
And divers in your kinds!
Which in the earth and water, fire and air,
From hour to hour
Your silent task fulfil!
All these, and many more yet unreveal'd
Or in the book of Nature or of God,
Each within each involved,
Wheel within wheel in many-mingled maze,
(Like that strange vision which Ezechiel saw
By Chobar's mystic stream)
All these, where'er they be,
Confess thine hand, O Lord;
And here, or in far space,
Or in the far infinity beyond,
Not of themselves,
But in Thee only, and for Thee exist,
Dread emblems of Thyself, who all hast made!
Thou the beginning and the end of all!
Nor know we aught,
Where each its issue finds,
Or in the other merges; nor can guess
The proper essence of the very least;
So dense our ignorance
Of that untold, immeasurable abyss,
In which Creation moves!

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Save that at times of some vast scheme
We catch the vanishing glimpse, as in a dream;
And hear at intervals a tone
Wafted down from spheres unknown,
Telling of things diviner far
Than any that around us are!

II. TO THE SKY.

Benedicite, cœli, Domino.

O sea of thoughts!
Wave upon wave
Of mystery and wonder without end,
Borne in upon my soul!
Casting her upward glance on yonder breadth
Of unsupported dome
In viewless joinings knit;
Yon azure firmament,
The ocean incorruptible
Of space immense,
Beyond all suns and spheres,
Beyond the starry depth,
Beyond attenuate ether's utmost bound,
Stretching its onward way!
O dreary solitude!—O mystic realm
Of primal chaos!—Distance infinite!—
Where e'en imagination drops her wing!—
O barrier unconceived!
Dissever'd equally
From spirit as from sense!
Blue mirror of bright Heaven!
Which from beneath we mortals gaze upon;
Whose upper coast,—creation's table-land—
Is that great sea of glass

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Which makes the pavement of th' eternal throne!
O void unsearchable of depth and height!
Up whose unfathom'd vistas as we glance,
The outskirts of dim immortality
Loom on the trembling gaze;
As when within the eye
Searching deep down by mirror's aid,
We seem the soul to see
Coil'd up and basking in her own eternity!
Praise thou the Lord most high,
All-spanless sky!
Whose everlasting Hand
Has, like a tent, thy veil cerulean spread!
Praise Him, ye Heavens!
Praise Him, ye waters, that above the Heavens
Extend your awful shade!
Proclaim, proclaim,
The glory of His Name,
Thou light, that flowest in a flood divine!
Declare His praise
Through ceaseless nights and days,
Ye stars, that like the Saints in glory shine!
O that to me were given
To blend my voice with your ecstatic song!
And through the spheres of Heaven
The peal of jubilation to prolong!
And what though stars there be,
Wandering through space,
Rayless and dead,
Consign'd to blackest night for evermore?
O let not such
Be my sad lot, I pray,
When on my vision fades this earthly day;
But set me, Lord, amid Thy living orbs,

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Though dimmest there,
Though least of all
In that vast galaxy;
Yet counted Thine, and number'd with Thy Saints!
And ever be my place,
Not amid heathen constellations old,
Arcturus, Pleiads, or Orion huge,
But in that saintly cluster of bright stars
New found of late in the new hemisphere,
Thy Cross, O Jesu!
Crowning the arch of night!
The glory of the islands of the South!
Greeting, in pagan climes unknown,
With a thrice welcome and familiar smile,
The weary wanderer on ocean tide.

III. TO THE EARTH.

Benedicat terra Dominum, laudet et superexaltet eum in sæcula.

O Earth, from whose dread womb
I, after wandering long
In faithful miner's charge,
With joy at last
Once more emerge upon the sunny sward,
Weary and travel-stain'd!
Declare, declare,
Within thy secret depth what marvels dwell,
Marvels by us unguess'd,
Who walk thine upper shore.
For many such thou hast, as well I know,
Or spiritual, or of material kind;
Dread Angels subterrene,
Mighty in works of ill;
Brute things, of which
In learned book no form or name appears;

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And wrought in thousand shapes
Down thy long avenues of grottoes fair,
A hidden growth of secret substances,
Whereof our brightest gems but tokens are;
And rivers of strange fire,
Far underneath,
Preparing, day by day, a second flood;
And treasures all untold
Of virgin gold,
Which evermore from man thou dost withhold;
And cities underground,
A multitude of mansions widely spread,
Where rest in sleep profound
Th' unbusied nations of the countless dead!
A labyrinth sublime,
Down whither, through all time,
But one alone
Descending, hath been known
Again in his own strength
The re-ascending stair of life to climb.
But for marvels why explore,
O Earth, thy hidden central core?
We but thine outer rind beholding,
New wonders see for ever there unfolding.
There are the waters gather'd into seas,
Broad continents and isles,
Rivers and lakes, and ever-shifting breeze
Dimpling thy face with smiles.
There are the forests tall,
The cultured landscape green,
Rock, grove, and waterfall,
Blue skies serene,
And of the seasons blest the gently varying scene.
While ever round thee, in their silent flight,
Fair day and solemn night

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Each after each proceed,
Unwearied pilgrims, scattering on their way
Or sun-bespangled ray,
Or dewy darkness answering nature's need;
Waking to toil, or folding into rest,
Ten thousand peoples shelter'd on thy breast.
But chiefly me, O Earth, thy mountains fill
With wonder at His power and skill,
Who piled aloft their soaring height,
As monuments of His eternal might!—
Or verdurous with groves,
Or bleak with barren crag,
Silver'd with snow, or capp'd with roaring flame;
All they alike their great Creator Lord proclaim.
Hail Etna fair!
Hail leafy Apennine and Pyrenees,
Athos, and that vast range Carpathian named,
Taurus and Caucasus,
Olympus, Himalaya, Atlas old,
Historic Alps,
Andes, and Apalachian heights sublime!
Hail, too, O ye
The mountains of our God!
Which of His glory saw in ancient days!
Thou patriarch Ararat!
Thou, Mount of Vision, dear for Isaac's sake!
Sinai and Hor,
Carmel and Lebanon, and many more!
And ye, diviner still,
Earth's choicest Heights,
Whose verdant slopes were press'd
By the blest footsteps of the Son of Man,
Fair Olivet, with Sion's holy hill,
And Thabor's flowery floor,
And Galilee's dear Mount without a name,
Where Christ new risen to His Apostles came!

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Thus, O Earth, upon thy face
I a thousand wonders trace;
Wonders old and wonders new
Ever springing into view!
And oft in meditative song
Musing, as I walk along,
On th' interminable design
Shown in nature's work divine;
Musing upon the tide of times untold,
When o'er the mountain tops primeval ocean roll'd,
I marvel if, by slow degrees,
Thou, Lord, didst into land convert the seas;
Or rather in its present state
By one sheer act the whole create!
Yet this I know, and this proclaim,
That unto Thee it was the same,
Or in a moment all to frame,
Or to elaborate the whole by stages,
Through the long growth of million million ages.
Wherefore howe'er the work was wrought,
All praise be Thine, who all hast made;
All praise be Thine, who all hast bought,
With the price Thy Lifeblood paid;
What time descending from the empyreal height,
Thou who creation with Thy finger framedst,
Begotten God of God, and Light of Light,
The uncreated Word, created flesh becamest!
O great Incarnate Lord of earth and sea,
What love, redoubled love, thus oweth man to Thee!

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IV. TO THE HEAT AND COLD.

Benedicite ignis et æstus Domino; benedicite frigus et æstus Domino.

Ye Heat and Cold!
Creatures most opposite!
Betwixt you twain ofttimes
In a strange doubt I stand,
Which out of which proceeds;
Nor what ye are, nor whence,
Can I at all divine,
Unversed in natural things;
Yet have I learnt
Not to this globe your office to confine,
Ranging through space,
Beyond where eye can trace,
Or thought the goal assign.
And each invisible
In its own nature seems;
Yet hath from God its own investiture
And special outward robe,
Wherein from ancient days itself it shows:
Thou, Heat, in flame appearing; thou, Cold, in ice and snows!
All for the sake of our poor mortal being,
By mercy's heedful law;
Lest we not seeing,
Nor of their presence warn'd, too near should draw,
And perish quite extinct in their devouring maw!
And Heat a docile creature doth appear,
Though violent at times;
And we abuse her as our bondslave here,
And tool of countless crimes;
Fashioning thereby a thousand things

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Which better for our souls had never been:
Who, soon unchain'd, shall us and all consume,
The partner of our guilt and of our doom.
But the Cold dwells apart,
Inflexible and stern in his own place,
Seated on high,
Beneath the upper sky,
In regions calm and still,
Where evermore he worketh his own will,
And changeth not for us his rigid face;
Nor unto man himself will bend,
Either to be his servant or his friend:
Save when in downy snow
O'er the raw glebe he deigns his cloak to throw;
O power of Love divine to tame him so!
That one, who doth for earth so little care,
Thus should lend his mantle rare,
Earth's tender things to pity and to spare,
And of this mantle much I might unfold,
Wrought on angelic loom in days of old,
How, mindful of its heavenly birth,
No stain it takes of earth,
But presently returns to Heaven again;
On this vile sod
That bears the curse of God,
Unable to remain:
Or how, with curious eye,
If we but venture in its folds to pry,
Seeking the woof to find
Which through its maze doth wind;
Scarce with a finger's tip
Have we begun the delicate web to trace,
Woven in crystal pure,
When lo, the skein
Beneath our mortal touch dissolves apace,

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Unwilling to endure
Aught that its virgin whiteness might profane!
O emblem clear to all
Of our sad fall!
Oh that of sinful flesh so great should be the bane!

V. TO THE DEW AND RAIN.

Benedicite, imber et ros, Domino.

Ye Dew and Rain!
How pleasant is your task, who, hand in hand,
Tend the green innocent herbs
With your blest ministries!
Dear brethren are ye both;
But dearer thou, O Dew, the elder born!
For later came the rain,
Rough in his ways, and sometimes harmful found,
As suits a ruin'd world.
But the soft dew, it is a patient thing,
Quiet of spirit, ever doing good,
At no time harm;
And pitiful for man and nature's fall;
Ministering unseen through midnight hours
To fainting mortal things!
Offspring of Eden days!
In whose clear globe
Eden is faintly seen reflected still!
Yet pleasant too, art thou, O Rain, at times;
And there has been, when I have loved to sit
On some high crag,
Watching thine armies scour
The breadth of vale below;
As, troop by troop, they swept
With cloudy flags unfurl'd,
Muster'd in distant climes,

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Or wild Norwegia, or Siberian waste,
Or melting Polar snows,
Atlantic deep, or wizard Egypt's shore,
Children of many lands and many tongues,
Under one law,
United each with each
In solemn contract of self-sacrifice,
To fertilise the world with their sweet blood!
O Dews! O Showers!
Praise Him, who you ordain'd;
Praise Him with me, and I with you,
Friends of my early days!
And God forefend
Judea's lot be thine, dear British Land!
Though stain'd with guilt of deadliest sacrilege,
Still not as yet of God forsaken quite.
A glorious clime was hers,
Nurtured in morning dew and evening shower,
The promise of her Lord.
But Oh, her children slew their Lord;
And evermore since then,
Up from the guilty soil His Blood has cried,
And year by year her Heav'n hath dried o'erhead,
Till all her sky is brass;
Nor through long arid months
Or dew or rain descend,
Save where, in nook forlorn,
Faith far retiring
The penitent tear outpours
For Sion's evil deeds;
There still, they say, the golden floweret springs,
The rain-drops fall,
And balmy dews distil;
To show that e'en in vengeance mercy lives!

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VI. TO THE SEASONS.

Benedicite, sol et luna, Domino.

What strain was that,
Soft as a blossom's fall,
Which sang but now at my heart's open door?
Came it from earth?
Or rather from some Cherub had it birth?
Of Spring its burden was,
Spring green and glad;
Sweet remnant left of happy Eden days:
Next of the Summer-tide;
Of Autumn next; and then of Winter sere;—
Weaving a web of praise all through the livelong year!
For lovely are the Seasons in their turn
(So went the song)—
Lovely, and speak Thy love,
O Thou, who all hast made.
Lovely the Spring,
When forth she trips upon the dewy lawn,
With hope and joy irradiant in her smile;
And, warbling as she goes,
Scatters, with liberal hand,
Treasures of Paradise on all around.
And lovely thou,
O Summer, jasmine-crown'd!
Blossom of Spring!
Who out of Spring dost bud
Into an odorous flower!
Unmark'd the transformation, day by day,
Till, lo! the Spring is gone, and in her place
We see thy jocund face
Peeping above the shoulders of bright May!
Then would we have thee evermore to stay:

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But, lo! with solemn tread
Stalks Autumn in his robe of many dyes;
And, soon as he his magic wand applies,
Shade after shade,
Nature begins to fade,
And into evanescence goes her way,
Loveliest of all perhaps, in her decay.
Anon comes Winter, and locks up the door,
Till Spring returns again, to vanish as before!
These are Thy works, O Lord!
By Angel-hands
Divinely minister'd to this our globe;
Thy works in silence wrought;
(In silence all great things
Do evermore proceed);
And still, while earth shall stand,
Standeth Thy promise sure,
That seed-time, harvest, cold and heat,
Sunshine and rain, shall evermore endure,
For man to sow his glebe, and reap his grain secure,
O gracious love! that no abatement knows,
But to unjust and just unceasing mercy shows!
And many are the joys beside,
Which in their turn belong
(So went the song)
To all the several Seasons as they glide;
God with his goodness garlanding the year,
And with all-bounteous art
Setting the one against the other part,
That so no time may be
From grateful praises free.
Thus, lest in Winter it should grieve the mind
To see the wreck that Summer leaves behind,
Lo! then the Saviour's birth comes round,
To deck with second Spring the ground.

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And lest in Spring too much we should rejoice,
And make this earth the Eden of our choice,
Lo! then Mount Calvary
And its dread Cross are present to the eye:
Almost we hear Him groan, and see Him die!
While in each Season, did we but attend,
We might detect the warning of a friend;
Each as an Oracle, O Lord, of Thine,
Reminding us, in turn, of truths divine:—
Autumn, of life's decay;
Winter, of death's still tomb;
Spring, of the Resurrection Day;
Summer, of Heaven's own bloom!

VII. TO THE FLOWERS.

Benedicite, universa germinantia in terra, Domino.

Green things, green things of Earth!
Bless the Lord evermore;
Him praise who gave you birth,
And magnify His goodness o'er and o'er;
The bounties undeserved,
Which He from age to age doth on his creatures pour.
Green things, green things of Earth!
Brief is your span
In this our latter time;
Unlike that earlier state,
When first in Paradise your life began
In nature's happy prime!
For Adam's sake the world a curse doth wear,
And in his fall ye share.
O, partners in one doom!
Betwixt our races twain be friendship true;
Give us of your bright blooms
To deck our tombs,
And we in your short lives will honour you.

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All honour to all flowers
Of every hue!
Thou, Heaven! give showers;
And thou, O Earth! give dew;
Thou, Sun! give heat; thou, Light, thyself distil,
Till every tint hath drunk of thee its fill!
While I, beneath the sylvan shade
Of some deep umbrageous glade,
Sitting on the grassy ground,
Sing to the Angels all around;
Praising the meadows green,
With rills that run between,
And cowslips' heads just seen:
Praising the primrose sweet,
And purple violet,
And gorse of golden hue,
And hyacinthian blue
Beneath the forest high
Spread like a mimic sky;—
Praising their great Creator Lord,
Who made them what they are,
Whose Love the Heavens outpour'd,
And of the smallest daisy hath a care.
And ofttimes on His word divine
Meditating, line by line,
And in the bud's unfolding flower
Tracing His eternal power,
I praise the rod, which, dead before,
Its blooming tufts of almond bore;
I praise the hyssop on the wall;
I praise the cedar's branching hall;
I praise the lily's fair attire
Which Jesus bids me to admire,
Setting such a lowly thing
Above the pomp of Israel's King!

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Anon before my fancy lie
Branches green of palm and bay,
Scatter'd thick along the way
Where Christ is passing by;
And, presently, methinks I see,
All in moonlight shadows rise
The garden of Gethsemane
Slowly before my tearful eyes;
O place most mystical and dread!
From whence the Lord to death was led;
O, place unlike to Eden's bowers,
Where life was lost to us and ours!
Straightway, O Eden, at thy name
My heart is in a flame,
And fires with thirst of thine abyss of shade,
Long cloister'd alleys green,
Cascades half seen,
Flower-woven paths for feet immortal made!
Oh, for that day of days,
When all again shall happy Eden be!
When earth shall one triumphant pæan raise;
When Paradise shall stretch far as the land and sea!
For this, O Lord, creation groans to Thee!
Oh, quickly come to save the people of Thy choice!
Then shall the grass be glad, and all the trees rejoice.

VIII. TO THE WINDS.

Benedicite, omnes spiritus Dei, Domino.

Sweet Breeze, all thanks to thee,
Who, as but now upon the grass I lay,
Leaving thy comrades gay,
Didst round about me play;
And fanning with thy balmy breath my cheek,
Didst in mine ear most eloquently speak;

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Leading me on, as through a meadow bright,
With tinted flowers bedight;
And still fresh-budding memories didst bring,
Cull'd from my boyhood's spring,
And lay them at my feet
In many a posy sweet,
Delighted in my heart of early times to sing.
For much I loved the winds in my young days;
Whereof thou, Breeze, aware,
Didst take my spirit up,
And in thy lap transport her back again
To times of youth gone by;
When in the clouds aloft
My swooping kite they bore;
Or blew my ship across the mimic waves;
Or lull'd me half asleep,
With deep Eolian murmurs of the pines;
Or swept the thistledown across the plain,
Mocking my pursuit void;
Or for my pleasure lash'd the cornfields up
Into a troubled sea,
I gazing down from some hill-side the while!
Of these things, then, O Breeze,
Most sweetly didst thou sing,
From thought to thought
Leading me unawares.
Nor of thy Mother Air
Wast thou without thy tale;
Nor of the numerous brethren whom thou hast,
Through the world's quarters spread:
Far different from herself,
As oft in children seen:
She evermore the same;
A changeful people they!

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For tranquil is the Air,
In her own nature view'd;
God's wondrous instrument
Of manifold design,
Answering to many ends!
A harp invisible,
Rich with unnumber'd tones!
A magic scroll, on which the tongue of man
Writes at his will irrevocable words!
A mirror of our thoughts
By speech reflected forth!
Our life-blood's food!
A censer laden with all Nature's incense!
A treasure-house of dew and quick'ning showers!
The fuel of all fires!
A crystal screen betwixt the sun and earth,
Blending all rays, and melting light's sharp edge!
An ocean all unseen,
This earth encircling round,
Wherein we walk, and know it not,
As men upon the bottom of the deep!
A globe immense,
Receptacle of Nature's divers forms,
Abode of countless mutabilities,
Itself from age to age
The same abiding still!
But restless are the winds her progeny,
Restless, and full of change;
Motion their life, in motion evermore,
Strange creatures, and a marvel in their ways!
Various their haunts!
More various still the tempers they display,
Constant alone in their inconstancy!
Now freezing cold,
From the far wintry pole;

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Now breathing warm and rich
From spicy climes; now sharp with arrowy sleet
Of Tartary; now booming loud and long
Portentous of the coming hurricane;
Now gentle as a lamb;
Now rudely blustering, or fiercely vex'd,
And now most sweetly sad;
Anon quite mad they seem
At window-casement heard,
As though an entrance forcing for themselves;
Wild raving beasts of night!
Listening to whom
The sick man cannot sleep;
Or if he sleep, 'tis vain,—
In dreams they follow still.
Yet e'en in this they work Thine ends, O Lord;
And Thou to each hast given
Its immemorial tone;
Whereby it preaches to the heart of man,
Concerning deeds long past,
And Judgment sweeping nigh,
Reminding conscience of forgotten things
Amidst the midnight storm!

IX. TO A SPRING.

Benedicite, fontes, Domino.

Sweet Fount, that from the bosom of the glebe
Dost evermore thy mother-milk distil
To the poor fainting babes of vernal things!
Bright eye of earth,
Always to Heav'n upturn'd,
Glistening serene!
Thee of all spots around I cherish most;
Not for thy purity alone beloved,

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But for the sake of pleasant musings past
Beside thee oft indulged.
Here still retiring,
In a chance leisure-time,
I love to sit upon thy margent green,
And watch the dancing of those golden sands,
Thy natural hour-glass!
For thereby, as I guess,
Thy gracious issue dost thou regulate,
From year to year
Still, hour by hour,
Running eterne!
O say, dear Fount, O say,
Through what strange windings to the upper day
Thy limpid waters flow?—
For nought of this I know;
Save what to me, of wonders there,
Truant Fancy may declare;
When from wandering at will
Down amid thy grottoes still,
Back she comes with many a tale
Shrouded in a mystic veil,
Of the curious works of eld
There by her sole eye beheld!
How beneath this surface green,
In the heart of earth enshrined,
Regions lovely and serene
Hid for ever from mankind,
Regions full of marvels new,
Open on her trancèd view,
Answering to the upper space,
As in water face to face.
Where beneath an opal sky,
Emerald fields extended lie;

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Other hills and vales than ours
Bloom with other trees and flowers;
Silver lakes their mirrors bright
Spread in amethystine light;
Songs of birds salute the ear,
Birds that ne'er on earth appear!
Groves a greener foliage show;
Roses all in ruby blow;
Orchards bend with fruitage fair;
Soft and spicy breathes the air;
While the verdant lawns between,
Dance along in sparkling sheen
Living rills of chrystal clear,
Changing into water here!
Thus in my heart but now,
Most limpid Spring!
As on thy velvet sward I lay reclined,
Did Siren Fancy sing,
Rippling the quiet surface of the mind,
With the soft wavings of her rosy wing;—
But I, too oft
As man and boy and child,
By her fair tales beguiled,
Rather to thy low murmurs would attend,
Singing with thee His glory without end,
Who set thee on this grassy mound
To be a type to all around,
Of that perennial love which no abatement knows,
But still for ever on, still on for ever flows!

X. A VISION OF ANIMALS.

Benedicite, omnes bestiæ et pecora, Domino.

Farewell to things material, void of sense,
Unchanging elements of earth and sky!

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Welcome the breathing worlds,
Of fabric subtler far,
In which, O Life and Death, your mysteries dwell!
Creatures of blood,
With gifts unsearchable,
Sensations quick,
Instinct divine,
Likings, dislikings, pleasure, pain, endow'd.
Of such my vision was upon a day
In summer-tide, beneath the forest boughs,
Listless reclining on the perfumed sward.
Endless the scenes,
Polar or tropical, that went and came,
Courting my vacant gaze;
Endless the tribes
Of bird and beast, which in those scenes appear'd;
While now Norwegia's pines
Bending with weight of snow,
Now Cheviot's heathery hills before me lay;
And now again, in undulations long,
The verdant prairies stretching far and wide,
Beyond the Western wave;
Each with their busy races roaming wild.
Endless the scenes;
Endless the climates; endless, too, the praise
By those unnumber'd denizens outpour'd
To Him, their God unknown,
In whom they move and live.
I saw the cedars tall
Of which the Psalmist sings,
Glory of thy green haunts, O Lebanon!
I saw them cluster'd thick with various birds;—
Highest of all, the hern
Had poised her stormy nest.

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Then glistening rose
A fair Pacific Isle,
With graceful ferns adorn'd, and scented shrubs;
Where, amid blossoms of a thousand dyes,
The joyous humming-birds,
More brightly tinted still,
Like gems upon the wing their sport pursued,
Glancing from spray to spray,
Through the clear sunny ray,
In the full zest that springs of natural solitude.
Anon the eagle stands
High on a jutting crag,
That o'er the desert looks:
There I espied her, with her savage mate,
Their lofty eyry build;
There lay her eggs, and hatch her bristly brood.
No food has she at hand.
But lo, meanwhile,
From earth's far ends two hostile armies draw:
Prescient of carrion near,
She for her starving nestlings feels no fear;
Soon all amid the slain are they,
Sucking the blood of kings!
The peacock next,
Fanning his goodly plumes,
His aureole display'd.
Upon a broken urn,
Relic of ancient days,
Graceful he stood, the rainbow amid birds!
Then came the mystic dove,
Her silvery feathers all bedropp'd with gold,
Sliding she came, down the smooth circling stair
Of yielding atmosphere, nor stirr'd a breath
With her becalmèd wing.

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I look again;
And lo, 'tis all a void of blue expanse,—
A reach of azure sky,
Interminably spread!
Then comes a sound of myriad beating wings,
And through the thin aerial solitudes,
An army strong,
The swallows voyage along;
In instinct's faith sublime,
Seeking another clime,
Not knowing whither bent, as he of olden time!
All in a rush I see them onward sweep;—
Then from far down below,
Ascending slow,
Swells up the peal of the Atlantic deep!
Anon a beauteous range of mountain-tops
Courts my delighted gaze,
Where the wild goats are seen,
Feeding at will
Upon the ridges green,
Their pasturage of old;
While slowly sails the condor overhead.
Then on its tide,
Like a broad flowing stream,
The vision bore me on,
And brought me to an English homestead sweet,
Long years ago
Pictured on memory's page;
Where in the yard,
Thick laid with wholesome straw,
I see four oxen stand,
Feeding at early dawn.
Hard by, the calf, responsive to its dam,
Lows from within the stall;
While, from half-open stable-door,

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Pipes merrily the ploughboy's whistle shrill,
Mimic of blackbird's note.
Then forth the team is led,
Sleeky and slow; and, hardly past the gate,
Is met by our old shepherd and his son,
From midnight watch
Returning, nipp'd and raw, their dog behind.
But ah! what sounds of fear
Are these that smite mine ear?
'Tis night—the moon is up—
And from the forest's dense obscurity,
In gusts are borne
Howlings of savage beasts, whose fiendish forms,
Betwixt the glimmering stems,
Glance by at intervals,
Fleetly careering
After their panting prey.
Trembling, I hear and see; but lo,
With the first streak of dawn,
Each to his den they wend;
Or fossil cave—or hollow of the pine—
Or ruin'd tower of eld;
And there, among their cubs
The spoil dividing, lay them down in peace?
Then in my sight a tufted palm-tree stood,
Shading a grassy track,
That by a tinkling rill its course pursued.
There, on the pathway green,
A dead man in his pool of blood is seen;
The sunbeams twinkling with the twinkling leaves
Upon his face serene.
A saddled ass is grazing at his side;—
While o'er him stands erect
And motionless the mighty forest-king;
His eye in secret fascination set;

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His tail and shaggy mane
Rigid as bronze:—the sun is mounting high,
Yet there he stands
In the same place; nor hurteth ass or man.
Fades the quick-shifting scene; and in its stead
A dungeon spreads its gloom;
Upon whose floor,
Noisome with human gore,
Sits holy Daniel, and feels no fear,
An Angel watching near;
While round and round, without a sound,
Lions and lion's whelps in ceaseless maze career.
Then lo, a wilderness,
Broken in jagged rocks, and all besprent
With prickly weeds; where horrid beasts of prey,
In the broad light of day,
Are roaming terrible as Satan's brood,
Tainting with noxious breath that awful solitude;
And all amid the howling crew,
Victim of day's hot glare, and night's envenom'd dew,
One with a thorny crown
Appeareth, kneeling down!—
Ah! wherefore kneels He there,
In fast and prayer?
Before eternity outstretch'd her wings,
Lord of lords, and King of kings!
Next from a vague abyss, up swam
Strange shadowy forms
Of mystic beasts by ancient Prophets seen;
He foremost, erst beheld on Chobar's margin green,
With fourfold wing and face, and living wheels between
Anon, as in the Apocalypse, I stood
Upon a sandy shore;
And lo, a beast from out the ocean rose,—

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Seven heads he had, ten horns,
And on each horn a crown;
Leopard in form,
With lion's mouth, and paw of grisly bear.
I saw him mount upon th' horizon's edge,
A dim and fearful thing;
I saw the nations darken in his shade.
Forthwith the serpent coils his slimy way,
Enormous stretch'd along
In folds without an end.
Then fiery coursers smote my sight;
And lo, Elias soars, rapt in his car of light!

XI. A VISION OF WATERS.

Benedicite, maria et flumina, Domino.

Sitting within her secret vestibule
(Those windows closed through which the outward world
Admittance finds) this spirit saw pass by,
As on the sheeted surface of a wall,
In bright dissolving views, a lengthen'd train
Of scenes depicted in prismatic tints
By quick Imagination's vivid art;
Whereof a portion, reader, for thy sake
Shall here be told; the rest is gone from me,
Lost in oblivion's colourless abyss.
At first, a glimmering mist; then, purring soft
Within the secret chamber of mine ear,
A murmur as of distant ocean-waves.
Whereon the mist disparting shows far down
A sea without a shore, o'er which the clouds
Are floating high, with veins of ruby tinge
Streaking the deep; while gently, here and there,
O'er tracts of open sunshine and of shade,

393

A thousand glistening billows rise and fall,
Dimpling the face of ocean's solitude.
But see, what form is this
Which as a moving mountain breasts the waves,
Borne without mast or sail?
A ship, yet not a ship;
Rising in stories tier on tier,
And by a shadowy Hand
Guided upon its way.
Thus as I gaze in wonderment, the clouds
Conglomerate into a murky black;
Down leaps the hurricane, up rise the waves,
Rattles the thunder round,
Ocean and atmosphere are blent in one!
While towering waterspouts,
That each might sink a nation's armament,
In broad and foamy tracks
Stalk o'er the broken level of the main.
Ah, much I trembled then
For thee, O Ark, now nearer in my view;
For thee and for thy crew,
That awful seed, sole remnant of a world,
The hope of bird and beast and mortal man.
I see thee toss'd upon the shivering waves
Up to the clouds, then downward suck'd again
Into the sheer abyss; ofttimes from sight
Wholly withdrawn, unharm'd thou reappearest
Upheaving a broad cataract of wave
From thine emerging roof. Around thee swarm
Spirits of darkness fresh from yawning hell,
Spirtling their fiery insatiate wrath
On thy defenceless head.
But all in vain; for still that Hand of might
(The same that on the Babylonian wall
Wrote at a later day)

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Still o'er the trackless deep it thee upbears
Unerringly along,
Stemming the fearsome tide.
Long do I watch thy track,
And oft the rising and the setting sun
Salute my anxious gaze;
But still thy course is onward as before,
Nor swerves one point
From its predestined line.
At last, from heaven
Propitious calm descends, and swanlike sails
Over the ruffled deep;
All smooth the vast expanse
As a bright mirror lies, where lovely Peace
Might see her face and smile.
Onward, O sacred Ark, thou movest still;
Till on a little isle
Grounding at length, thou settlest rooted there;
A little isle at first—
But all around the waters fast subside,
And soon into a mountain-peak it soars,
And lo, the Ark amid the skies is seen,
With a bright rainbow shining o'er its head;
While in the place of lately foaming waves
A slimy plain appears;
Slimy and dead, the ruins of a world!
Anon the scene is changed,
And other seas appear, and other times.
A mighty gulf,
Upon whose strand a multitudinous host
Gathers of old and young;
Arm'd myriads in their chariots of war
Pursuing close behind;
Then steps a chieftain forth, and with his rod

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Smites the white crest of an advancing wave;
Whereat the trembling deep asunder parts
And a broad sandy path is seen
Betwixt the cloistering walls of waters green;
Enters the foremost host, and passes on
Safe to the further shore;—
The second follows—and is seen no more!
Then rose a gentle lake
Before my raptured eye;
A gentle lake with variegated shore
Of rocky promontory, landscape green,
Castles and towers and tranquil villages,
With palm-groves here and there
Fondling the quiet bays—
And in the midst of that same gentle lake,
A little ship with fishermen aboard,
And One, who lies asleep
Upon the pillow at the listless helm.
Sudden there bursts a storm
Spat from Satanic mouth,
And under whirling foam
The stricken bark is sinking, as I gaze;
Then in their fear they wake that sleeping One,
And He forthwith arising lifts His voice,
Which o'er the billows onward borne
Hushes them straight
Into an infant's rest.
I look again:—
The self-same lake is there,
Glistening beneath the moonbeam's silver shower;
And lo, far out,
He, whom I saw but now, again appears,
A solitary shape!
Striding across the fleet careering waves,
With the same ease
As on the green-sward of a quiet lawn!

396

Then for awhile no vision came, as though
Some curtain had been drawn;
Patient I sit and wait,—
When lo, a mass of many-mingled shades!
Which slowly breaking up resolves itself
Into a second train of ocean-scenes,
Wherein the various tenants of the deep
Before my curious gaze
Their several parts perform.
I see the porpoise o'er the stormy wave
Wheeling intent along;
I see the nautilus
Expand her sail of gauze,
And spread with mimic armaments the main.
I see leviathan with scales of pride
Stemming his hoary way.
All these and many more
Unwieldy sporting upon ocean's breast,
Or drowsing in its caves,
Or wandering restlessly from pole to pole,
In turn attract my gaze;
I mark their most exuberant joy of life,
I mark their pastimes strange,
And own in each a mystery divine.
Anon all calm and still
Before me lay the bottom of the deep
A region unexplored,
Where never yet came down
The raving upper storms;
Stirless abode of solitude profound!
O'er whose white floor
Strange glistening shells were spread,
And gems without a name.
There, 'mid the bulky stems of seaweeds tall,
Whose ancient growth might antedate the flood,

397

With fear I saw
A mighty monster of an unknown fish,
Dozing and motionless,
Thy wondrous work, O Lord!
Thick-ribb'd and strong he seem'd,
With skin more rugged than the corky rind;
On whom no sooner had I fix'd my glance,
Than seems to shoot
An Angel down, and whisper in his ear.
Forthwith his fins strike out,
And, as an arrow from the bow he darts
Upon his order'd course.
I mark him long through the clear underdepth
Sweep on his silent track;
Then suddenly to pause,
His destined goal attain'd,
And close beneath
The gently-rippling surface, tranquilly
His station taking wait the will divine.
Nor waits he long:
A storm is on the deep;
A straining ship draws nigh;
Toss'd from the deck,
The Prophet sinks amid engulfing waves;
Up springs the monster from his secret lair,
And down his ghastly jaws
Sucks his appointed prey.
Ah, then all hope was o'er
For thee, O Jonas, in thy fleshly tomb,
Absorb'd without reprieve.
I see thee downward borne,
Downward and downward through the watery maze;
Till on the bars thou touchest
Of this compacted globe.
Three days, three nights,

398

Thy home is in the deep;
Then at thy prayer, the Lord remembering thee,
Sheer on the rocky strand
The monster spurts thee forth,
And to his solitary place returns
Beyond the nether pole.
Anon the scene is changed, and changed again;
Till last of all appears,
As at the first, a sea without a shore;
Gazing whereon, I hear a trumpet-blast
Peal from above; and lo, the ocean parts
Like a rent scroll, and through its yawning clefts
Up from their watery graves in clouds arise
The multitudinous nations of the dead,
From age to age
Drown'd in the savage depth.
In clouds they rise,
Thick as autumnal mist;
Myriads on myriads borne.
Then comes insufferable darkness down,
And sits on the abyss;
And a voice cries, ‘There shall be sea no more!’
Whereat amid the black obscurity
I hear a formless sound as of the deep
Departing on its way:—then all is hush'd;
Silence and ancient chaos fill the void.

XII. THE PAST.

Benedicite, noctes et diei, Domino.

O Time, thou creature strange,
Subtler than air,
Who all things dost pervade,
All things dost change,

399

And of the whole a record dost preserve,
Thyself unseen the while!
Lo, as from out the depths
Of some far eastern Archipelago
Uprises firm,
By toiling instinct raised
Of million million insects unobserved,
The curious structure of some coral-isle;—
So thou, O Time,
From out eternal deeps
A wondrous world hast wrought,
The fabric slow
Of million million moments unperceived;
For every moment lived its tiny life,
Then solitary died,
And dying, left behind
Its fragment of the past;
Till upward, lo,
Emerging from th' abyss an isle appears,
Which, shooting transverse forth,
Is into grots and lengthening avenues
Of mystic cloisters grown.
Halls of the dead!
Halls of the Past and Gone!
Long corridors of years
Mantling the bosom of eternity!
Wherein we wander on at will,
Led by historic muse along,
And wonder at thy matchless skill,
Patient heart, and labour long;
Who o'er the level of th' eternal tide
Hast spread a labyrinth so vast and wide;
And built it up in such a wondrous way,
Working from age to age by night and day;
Nor built alone; but storied every wall
With all that did from age to age befall.

400

O registries sublime!
O records of all time!
What things untold
Of new and old
Have on your silent tablets been enroll'd!
O dim archives of vanish'd nights and days,
What thoughts ye raise
In those who wander your lone aisles along!
A twilight scene
O'ergrown with ivy green,
Where scarce a trembling ray can shoot between,
Fit place for my sad song,
For I would sing
Of every earthly thing,
How speedily it fleeteth to its close;
How all our hopes and fears,
Our smiles and tears,
Thoughts, words, and deeds,
With all that thence proceeds,
And all that thither flows,
In thee converge at last
O solemn Past!
Borne in a ceaseless flux which none may stay,
And so remain,
For glory or for bane,
Irrevocably stamp'd until the Judgment Day!

XIII. THE SOUL.

Benedicite, spiritus et animæ justorum Domino.

Of God, of Truth, of high celestial things,
Methought one night I heard
The Angel Watchers singing to themselves;
Then sudden changed the strain,
And took a mournful tone;

401

As of the soul they sang:—
Her origin sublime;
How nobler far than elemental fire,
Or air, or sea, or first-created light,
Or immaterial principle unknown
Of the brute race, or instinct's force divine,
Or comet's wheeling orb,
Or sun, or blazing star,
She boasts a heavenly birth,
A life immortal, incorruptible,
From the pure fontal essence ever blest
Of Majesty ineffable derived.
O shame, to think that such a pearl of price
Should all unvalued to the swine be cast
By thankless mortal man!
And marvellously was her nature framed,
And still a wonder is,
With awful powers endow'd;
Conscience supreme!
Clear Intellect, and Fancy's airy wand!
Exhaustless Memory!
Skill, and inventive power!
Capacious Science which subdues the world!
Pity soft-eyed! angelic Sympathies
In boundless treasure stored!
Genius sublime!
Thought, Eloquence, Freewill!
‘O marvel of the world!’ (so went the strain)
‘Great miracle of majesty divine!
Image of God, of Angels the high charge
By life-blood of Incarnate God redeem'd!
Bright ray of Heaven piercing this lower deep!
Wherefore so dull become, ethereal soul!
Forgettest thou to shine; but, soil'd and dim,
Trailest in dust, the prey of earthly things?

402

Ah, well may nature weep
For thee her highest crown so lowly laid!
Ah, well for thee
May Angels mourn and all creation sigh!’
Then of Eternity
The hidden warblers sang,
Whereat a joyous burst throughout the concave rang;
Anon 'twas sadness all,
Telling of Adam's fall,
Telling of sin and death which us thereby enthral.

XIV. THE ANGELS.

Benedicite, Angeli Domini, Domino.

What honour hast Thou given
To these sweet sons of Heaven,
Whom for Thyself, O Lord, Thou didst create!
What mercies hast Thou shown,
Sending them hither down
From age to age
On gracious pilgrimage;
Till Thou Thyself didst come in our estate:
Then upon Thee it was their joy to wait!
Oft as on them I muse,
Revive those pictures bright,
My infancy's delight,
In ancient Bible cunningly portray'd;
Which in transparent vivid hues
Their past appearances from age to age display'd.—
Now Jacob, pillow'd on his stone;
While Angels o'er his head,
By light from moonbeams shed,
On crystal stair are wending up and down:

403

Now Peter on his prison-floor,
At the mid hour of night
Waked by an Angel bright,
To whom without a touch opens the iron door.
Anon before my gaze
The sheepfolds lie, all bathed in heavenly rays;
While the hymn of Christ's glad birth,
‘Joy in Heaven and peace on earth,’
As once of old it downward stole,
Sings in mine ear, and sinks into my soul.
Then, all in mists of gray
Fading away,
The vision changes to a mantling gloom,
And shows the dim interior of a tomb;
Where on a stone
Two Angels sit alone,
Watching the hallow'd spot where Christ was laid,
When he for human guilt the bloody price had paid.
Risen and free,
Himself I cannot see;
Before mine eyes
Folded apart the sacred napkin lies.
Ah me, how still they sit,
While silently before th' in-flooding Morn
Night's shadows flit!
One at the head, the other at the feet,
Like Cherubim of old beside the mercy-seat!

XV. AJALON.

Benedicite, sol et luna, Domino.

A gorge of green,
That downward slopes two mountain crests between,
Tranquil and hush'd in evening's lap serene!—
Betwixt the heights the sun is sinking slow;
While in the vale below

404

The moon begins her silver orb to show,
Brightening each moment into clearer glow.
Like mists of night descending,
In mingled masses blending,
What swarms are these that hither downward pour?
Conflicting hosts they seem;
I catch their serried gleam,
I hear, I hear, the distant battle's roar.
And now far down the plain
In one broad flow,
A living sea they go;
Pursuers and pursued, the slayers and the slain.
Ah, 'tis the Amorrhite host,
Beneath th' Almighty's sword
By Israel's red hand into destruction pour'd!
O quickly sink, thou Sun;
Let darkness dun
Wrap the world up in night,
And hide from wrath divine the perishing Amorrhite!
Why standest thou so still,
O Sun, on Gabaon's hill;
And thou, O Moon, in Ajalon's far vale;
Each in your habitation of calm space
Transfix'd? While time his race
Suspends, and in his stead
Eternity its solemn pall hath spread;
Forestalling that great Day which brings the Judgment dread.
And still the slaughter'd fall, the slayers still pursue,
In the broad open day,
Where midnight else had sway,
Reaping the harvest ripe of deadly vengeance due.
Josue, thy glory bright
Excels all glory's height!

405

O force of prayer!
The sun upon his stair
Pauses midway, as fearing to descend;
The moon hangs motionless in air,
As it were painted there,
Till prayer hath wrought its end;
Till Israel's foes
In heaps of death repose.
Then night and darkness to their place again
Return, and silent reign;
Proving by confirmation strong
To all the ages all along,
That whom Jehovah loves all nature must befriend;
Whom the Creator hates no creature may defend.

XVI. THE WORLD.

Benedicite, filii hominum, Domino.

O world, which evermore
As in a swollen river's turbid tide
Dost on and onward roll,
How long, how long
Shalt thou yet flow?
How long the sons of Eve
Into Hell's dismal ocean shalt thou sweep,
An unresisting throng?
Oh stream, augmenting ever by our loss!
Oh stream, whose surges toss
So high, scarce they escape who climb the Cross!
As one who, on a rock
That o'er the rising Danube looks afar,
Planting his steady foot,
Beneath him views the broad uproarious flood
Resistless whirling its tumultuous prey;
So to the table-land

406

Of this calm solitude retired awhile,
I, raised above myself,
Seem from its sylvan height
Thee to behold, O world, far down below;
With all thy pomps and specious vanities,
In eddies borne along without an end,
An evanescent scene.
Cities in whirlpools sweeping;
Unnumber'd armies from all nations pour'd;
Wharfs piled with merchandise;
Kings' palaces in marble terraced high;
Fountains and glittering domes;
Castles and forts
Bristling with cannons' teeth;
Huge heaps of gold,
Prisons and theatres, and crowds of men;—
All these and many more,
Life's phantom masquerade,
Beneath my gaze in mazy circles speed.
See in procession long
The Pagan world go by,
Baal and Astaroth and Remmon's car,
With music wild, and shouts of drunken joy;
Assyria, Media, Persia, Babylon,
Egypt, and ancient Thebes.
Ah me, what hideous rites!
What fearful orgies drench'd in human blood,
Man's blood in hellish sacrifice outpour'd!
Such things I saw, and seeing, knew the world
For an apostate from its Maker's creed,
Though stamp'd on its own heart,
And writ on nature's brow.

407

Anon came whirling by old Greece and Rome,
With all their arts sublime;
Still far from Thee, O Lord.
Beauty their idol; her in countless forms
Their pleasure to adore;
Spurning her Author and first Origin;
Sensual their deeds, with a false glory crown'd.
Long was the train
That follow'd in their wake. Then seem'd the globe
To spin upon its axis as I gazed;
While land and sea together blent in one
Like a broad ribbon show'd. So quickly time
Coursed on its way. Anon 'twas darkness all;
Which, presently dispersing, usher'd in
The light of modern days,—
The light of Intellect, false reason's ray!
Upward from earth it came,
Not downwards from on high:
And lo, beneath its pale and haggard beam
Sweeps roisterous along
A democratic rout;
Uproar and anarchy set loose from chains.
Oh woe was me, what blasphemies I mark'd!
Science run mad;
Mammon in triumph borne;
And nature's law set up in place of God.
Methought the end was near;
That surely Antichrist must now appear.
Vanish'd the rabble rout in distance far,
Borne on thy stream, O world;
And now before me swam all pleasant things,—
Mansions and fragrant groves;
Arcadian lawns
With groups of dancers fill'd;
Banquets in halls of state;

408

Bright throngs of revellers, enchanting forms
Of youth and beauty, music's joyous bands,
All sweets of this vain world,
All pleasures, glories, riches, dignities.
And ever as I gazed, within me rose
A yearning strange and most insatiable,
A yearning and an emptiness profound,
Which nought of all I there beheld could fill.
‘O foolish heart,’ I thought, ‘that ever once
You could have dreamt to find in these your rest!
All in a restless scene;
All amid phantom things
That come and go, and go and come again,
Fata Morgana of this fleeting world!
Poor shreds of time, while thou eternal art!
Adieu, adieu,
Illusive pageantry!
Adieu, adieu,
False fleeting airy show!
Speed on thy way, and with insidious smile
Thy wretched victims into ruin sweep;
But I, thy treacheries taught
By sad experience, spurn thee from my breast,
And thy allegiance evermore renounce,
Insensate, heartless, empty, perjured world!’
Such were the thoughts, O Solitude divine,
Which, as I sat upon thy mountain height
Beneath a cloister of umbrageous pine,
Upon me stole, what time before my sight
The mists of eve were passing in review,
Marshall'd far down the vale. Meanwhile the moon,
Pale-glistening with a solemn-tinted hue,
Above the forest lifted her fair head;
Faded away the sunset-dyes, and soon,
Dim spreading to the far horizon's verge

409

'Twas twilight all. Then in melodious swell,
Inviting requiems for the faithful dead,
Came floatingly, like some aerial dirge,
The peal of ancient monastery bell,
Rising and falling soft o'er distant flood and fell.

XVII. THE SANCTUARY OF THE CHURCH.

Benedicat Israel Dominum, laudet et superexaltet eum in sæcula.

Farewell, a long farewell,
Ye pomps and vanities of this false world,
Vain-glorious systems and perverted ways!
Welcome, ye shades serene,
As by some heavenly screen
Shut off from earth and earthlings' empty gaze!
Welcome, true Israel,
Where peace and justice dwell;
Where in low cloister'd cell,
Remote from scenes of pride,
Faith, Hope, and Love may hide;
Where prayer and praise are pealing evermore,
While through the spacious ever-open door,
In distance view'd,
Appear th' eternal hills, glistening and golden-hued!
Welcome, thou Church sublime,
Founded from olden time,
Far out upon the world's tempestuous tide;
Which surging all around,
Stirs not the rock profound,
Rooted whereon thou dost from age to age abide!
O place most blest,
Foretaste of Heaven's own rest!
Port where no billow rolls!
True home of human souls!

410

O Sanctuary rare of all creation,
Worthy of endless praise and admiration!
How oft thy glorious aisles along
Vibrating with ecstatic song,
Lost in Elysian dreams, I glide,
Forgetful quite of all beside;
Seeking with Jesus there to meet,
And cast me down before His feet.
How oft amid thy cloisters dim
I seem to walk alone with Him,
Marking His every word and deed,
Of which in Holy Writ we read,
In living colours ever new
Set before th' entrancèd view!
O place most bright,
O'erflooded from the Fount of living Light!
O place most sweet,
For gentlest musings meet,
And whispering with the tread of sainted feet!
O place of pure repose,
Which the world never knows;
Where peace and penitence their joys disclose;
Where whatsoever good was lost before
Is found again, and found for evermore!
All hail, new world of grace,
That fillest up the space
From man to Angel in th' ascent of things!
Hail, sacred palace of the King of kings!
Great mystery from generations hid,
Outdating Egypt's eldest pyramid;
Chantry kept secret since the world began
In silent darkness seal'd;
But now, according to th' eternal plan,
To Faith reveal'd!
Ah, what a waft divine
Steals from thine inner shrine,

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As with hush'd step I draw me near!
Ah, what a gently-breathing calm is here,
Dropping around
Like dew upon the ground,
Soothing the soul with hope, and scattering all her fear!
O, where true joy and rest,
Where an untroubled breast,
Save here with Thee, O Jesu, shall I find?
Here in Thy living Church of ancient days,
Which, all amid the world's quick-shifting maze,
Thou hast on Peter built, a refuge for mankind!
Here are Thy servants found;
Here do Thy praises sound,
Mounting above the world's tumultuous roar;
Here man with angel vies,
And earth with skies,
Thee, Father, Son, and Spirit, to adore!