Poetic Lucubrations Containing The Misanthrope and Other Effusions. By T. Gordon Hake |
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| THE
MISANTHROPE.
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| I. |
| II. |
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 | Poetic Lucubrations |  |
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THE MISANTHROPE.
A Poem. IN TWO CANTOS.
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CANTO I.
I.
Lo! Caspian slumbers—o'er his weary soulLethès dark billows in dull silence roll.
Oblivious umbrage lulls that ebbing glow,
That restless flame, whence all his sorrows flow.
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II.
Delightful spell! sleep calms the troubled breast,And soothes the bosom by wan grief opprest,
And on the heart that apathy engraves
Which rests with moul dring mortals in their graves.
III.
A charm whose sweetness grief alone can tell,Which thought itself, can from the mind dispel!
Which clothes the soul in fancy's Iris dress,
Or yields ideas of empty nothingness!
IV.
From that dark hour, when Ada's spirit trac'dIts flight to mansions by God's presence grac'd;
When blind enthusiasts in her guiltless breast
The poniard plung'd, that sunk her e'er to rest;
The period at which the actions of the poem are supposed to have taken place, was when the delusive and subtle philosophy of Aristotle gained so high a dominion over the minds of civilized men; enslaving the noble faculty of reason, and checking all possibility of arriving at truth, by studying nature.
The false shadow of reasou which was cherished in the schools tended to ennarrow the mind, and to raise bigotry and conceit in the place of real wisdom and candour: hence, men deluded into the belief that their philosophical adoptions were the trancript of nature, and the spirit of truth, vigorously opposed, and severely punished those daring and original minds, which occasionally arose from among the thick darkness of prejudice and ignorance, presuming to study, and teach nature in opposition to the visionary principles and hasty conclusions of the S tagyrite.
Amongst those few noble intellects which preferred truth to prejudice, nature to false art, was our hero Caspian, educated in all the sophisms of the day, his penetrating mind pierced their thick veil and discovered their falsehood; ardent, desirous of impressing truth on the minds of his companions, he used every means in endeavouring to open their minds and dislodge their follies, by the force of reasoning, the powers of eloquence, and the stings of contemptuous satire.
Too deeply bound by the gilded fetters of their philosophy, they heard him at first with astonishment, then with pity, and at length with anger: unable to combat the strength of his arguments, envying his superior intellect, and stung with his unceasing reproaches; goaded to the extremity of rage and despair, they determined to rid themselves of his society: but Caspian was ever with them, urging them to thought and reflection, until finding the only being in the world who loved him, basely murdered, he fled in anguish from those who had treated him so unworthily, considering them as the cause of his Ada's death and betook himself, to the woods.
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V.
From that dread hour, none Caspian's hand could grasp,But shunn'd it as the fatal venom'd asp!
As from the tiger of the sylvan plain,
From him all fled, their safety to regain.
VI.
The lurking snake, which hurls at all its dart,Mark'd his stern eye, then hasten'd to depart:
And at his glance, the hungry bird of prey
With terror scream'd, then trembling flew away!
VII.
His frame seem'd cast in nature's richest mould,Courage and pow'r, its manly bearing told,
And the fine outlines of his noble face
Were such as seldom mark the human race.
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VIII.
To shew a frown, that held dominion there,Dark, waving ringlets left his forehead bare:
Beneath, that star of life, the sable eye
Encompass'd by a dark, expressive ridge,
By one quick glance could turn a dagger's edge,
When rous'd by ire, with Sol himself might vie!
IX.
Cold, and unmelting as the Alpine snow,The maiden's heart, that met, nor felt its glow;
For with a smile he stamp'd an am'rous smart,
Or with a sneer confusion, on the heart!
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X.
But such is past, all deem his lightest breathA blast to hurl their coward souls to death,
One mutter'd sound, or one demoniac sneer
Imprints a lasting thrill on ev'ry ear.
XI.
But now the morning light recals his woes,And melts the feeble pleasures of repose;
In hope's dark mist he vainly tries to find,
A ray to calm his æipathetic mind:
His thoughts at length revolve into despair,
Thus blend their anguish with the empty air.
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XII.
“Oh, that high heav'n had doom'd my fate to be,The verdant breadth of some gigantic tree,
Beneath whose shadow men were wont to rest;
Then would I crush them with my pondrous breast!
Or some sharp rock beneath the ship plough'd wave
That I might wreck, and hear the dastards rave!
XIII.
Ada! thou art unmindful of that hour,When life's bright sunshine made thine heart so gay:
Oh, how I hate to dream of yonder bow'r,
Where years with thee, like hours have flown away:
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That ecstacy was made, to disappear!
But Summer rills all freeze, when Winter mars the year.
XIV.
Oh, how we lov'd! 'twas not that pow'rful sparkOf transient passion which the mind can sway,
Which like the glow-worm glistens in the dark,
Exists, is yet invisible by day.
XV.
'Twas such as Adam felt, when woman's calmLuxurious smile first met his lonely heart:
On earth, what deadly soporific charm
Could stanch our grief, with such a gift to part?
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XVI.
'Twas such as Enoch felt for Heav'n, when God,His soul translated to the realms of bliss:
Oh! does that Angel who this earth hath trod,
The peerless Ada, Caspian love like this?
XVII.
'Twas such as Angels feel, when ev'ning cheers,And gentle shades invite, each lover's eye:
Or when their soft, mellifluous song appears
To captivate the soul of the most High!
XVIII.
Oh! let me rest, beneath this willow's head,Which sips the tide, and yields a grateful shade:
See how it droops! the murm'ring zephyrs fly,
Betwixt its leaves to greet it with a sigh!
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XIX.
O weeping willow, with thee let me mourn,For thee alas! a tear is seldom drawn,
Save from that kind, that sorrowing stream below,
Which sobs beneath thee, as its wavelets flow.
Oh! droop no more, this shaded brook appears
To be a flood of thine incessant tears.
XX.
There is a melancholy bliss in sadness,A spell which vainly tries to sink the heart:
Its pow'rs are neutralized by hope, whilst gladness
Bursts forth to greet the tear-drops as they start.
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XXI.
There is a melancholy bliss in smilingO'er pillows where a virgin eye reposes,
The glowing cheek, with hectic flush reviling,
Grim death who hastes to strew her full-blown roses.
XXII.
Where all is silence save her light breath rising,Like fragrance from a roseate luscious flow'r:
Or like the moon for the last time arising,
From the red wave, o'er thoughtless pleasure's bow'r.
XXIII.
Ah! melancholy are the joys of seeingHer slumber who will shortly breathe no more:
To watch the immaterial essence fleeing,
Unto a better, from this woe-worn shore!
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XXIV.
To share the overwhelming pang of breathing,Unto a dying friend the last adiou!
And yet, a sigh around the feelings wreathing,
Doth separation's bitter pangs subdue.
XXV.
There is a melancholy bliss in castingA thought on her departed whom I lov'd,
It breathes affection's pledge, as pure and lasting
As ever Seraph's to the Eternal prov'd!
XXVI.
Thou winding stream, how oft I've known the pleasureOf seeing thee by moonlight glide away,
Like careless mortals recking not the treasure
Their minds may lose whilst wrapp'd in mould'ring clay.
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XXVII.
But ne'er again mine Ada shall we strayTo mark each beauty as its wavelets play,
Dæmons! the only joy that I can know,
Is that of smiling on another's woe!
Or to revile the raving sinner's breath,
Which frames a curse, then yields his soul to death.
XXVIII.
O Sin, thy tainted germs have never fail'd,Their fruits in show'rs prolific overflow,
Fertility, e'er since thou wast entail'd,
Hath cursed mankind, Cain too can tell thee so!
XXIX.
In soulless brutes we see the passions move,In that straight course express'd by Him above,
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Their lord mankind doth oft beneath them sink.
The faithful dog, by man so oft ill-us'd,
The trust of man hath never yet abus'd;
Like man it snarls, if by mankind opprest;
But unlike man, loves those who treat it best.
XXX.
When poverty invades the wretched home,And waves his tatter'd banner o'er the dome,
Or fell disease, or each domestic storm,
Drives from our home each friend in human form:
This friend alone, with heart by grief imbued,
Will lick the hand which cannot find it food:
Without reward its watchful glance will cast,
Around the doorless hut until it breathes its last,
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XXXI.
The tawny Lion, who once held his reign,The bloody tyrant of the Libyan plain:
Altho' subdued by man's fallacious skill,
With fear obeys its dominator's will.
The shaggy Wolf whose nature is to stain,
Her jaws with gore, to rend the panting vein,
Tame as a lamb will sink, with thanks to greet,
The one who casts her offspring at her feet.
An anecdote is related of a traveller who was surprised by the sudden appearance of a she-wolf, apparently entreating him with imploring glances to follow: wondering at the want of ferocity exhibited by the brute, and attracted by the unusual expression of her features, he followed her to a den in which were a Lion and the Wolf's cubs; on firing on the former and leaving the latter free to the delighted Wolf, she sunk at his feet in gratitude!
XXXII.
Blush, mortals blush, or if ye still despiseThe path of God, the beast can teach thee how to rise,
Let thy dark mind repent each hidden crime,
Nor deem it faded by the lapse of time,
Tho' since 'twas done whole ages may have roll'd,
Each secret crime at Heav'n's tribunal shall be told.”
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CANTO II.
I.
'Neath a near wood where many a lime tree grows,In vain poor Caspian seeks desir'd repose:
A mighty and a venerable wood,
Which on a hill's steep side, hath frowning stood,
And proudly brav'd thro' many a Winter drear,
The storms and blasts which close the circling year
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II.
And now the Sun on its broad mass bestows,Bright colors, whilst its top with beauty glows,
And minstrel birds in flocks delight to rove
And carol in the coolness of its grove.
III.
'Neath a huge tree and on a grassy bed,The Misanthrope reclines his haughty head;
The rolling eye, the throbbing, boiling, veins,
Tell how strong passion in his bosom reigns:
In words, and tears fierce fury may have vent,
But madness burns, when mighty rage is pent.
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IV.
He thinks upon his Ada's injur'd fate,The cruelty, and bigotry of man,
His own unhappy, and degraded state,
And life's short, sad, and yet eventful span.
V.
He questions heav'n's own justice as he thinksHow little he deserv'd its heavy ire,
He's half resolv'd to curse, again he sinks,
And smothers in his breast the impious fire.
VI.
Such mighty feelings rend his tortur'd soul,That reason rushes from her own control:
Wild phrenzy with her fiery septre sways
His mind, yet temper'd by a few light rays,
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That madness draws her falchion as his foe.
VII.
Raving, he screams; “hark! hark! the deep floods roaring,Rise in their rage, relent, then sob for me:
Those wave-worn rocks mine agony deploring,
In pensive sadness speak philanthropy.
Yes! rocks of flint e'en drop a tear to see
A mind so fallen, and a heart so sad,
And tho' congeal'd and cold, in misery
A tear concentrates all that makes us glad,
All that on earth's rough soil, of pleasure can be had.
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VIII.
The sun grows dark, the Deity forsakes me,Grim horror in a whirlwind racks my brain,
And madness in its wild career o'ertakes me,
Clings to my soul, ha! hurls me tow'rds the main!
Farewell! ye rocks we ne'er shall meet again!
Life is departing; yet it seems to be
Renew'd from darkness as its dark clouds wane,
The subtle, burning essence seems to flee,
Into the ocean; now returns again,
As mist ascends in clouds, and then sinks down in rain.
IX.
Mine eyes congeal, my limbs are petrified!And like a breathing statue, now I sink.
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And ne'er again shall see the ocean's brink,
I hear, nor feel, nor see, but only think;
And yet I seem to hear, to feel, to see?
My thirsty mind from vision cannot drink,
For all the senses have flown inwardly:
Confus'd as dolphins which have left their native sea!
X.
The shell fish of the ocean cling around me,And with the slimy weeds a cov'ring make
Their tacit, endless slumber doth confound me
And keeps my soul in agony awake:
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Which change to boist'rous billows, calm before:
And when I try my garment off to shake,
I seem more still, they seem to cling the more:
I'm like the bird of Jove, which would, yet cannot soar!
XI.
Again I sink, my breath and strength decreasing,Until in anguish and despair I weep.
I feel each tear the vital flame releasing,
At length resolve into forgetful sleep.
XII.
Yes, now my soul forgetfulness embraces,And seems as senseless as the waters round;
Nor are there in my mind the slightest traces,
Of life, or thought or feeling to be found:
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Which from the soul doth tear all soul away,
And leaves behind such feelings as abound
In minds which long have fled from slumb'ring clay:
Strange as would be a pool of ice on summer's day.
XIII.
Mine eyes unclose, with grateful light abound,And melt in vision: still I cannot hear,
Nor even think, each scene which smiles around,
In placid mildness greet my thoughtless stare!
The Sun I see, but do not feel its glare:
Like me it seems to care not for its ray:
Like me its essence lives, yet knows not where:
I'm like a lake whose waters are astray,
Save just enough to moisten thoughtful, thoughtless clay!
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XIV.
And now the massy crags of chalk descending,The shingles threaten with a thund'ring fall:
And whilst with them their shatter'd fragments blending,
In fear I start, but silence buries all!
XV.
Oh! heav'n! I see mine Ada stalking! whyTurn from my gaze that bosom's gaping wound,
Or try to hide the brightness of that eye,
Which casts on all save me its splendour round?
O lend thine hand to raise me from the ground
To that bright place where now I see thee stand:
Whose million beauties, only to be found
In heav'n, proclaim it heav'n's own happy land:
Canst thou stand there and see me on this wretched strand?
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XVI.
Madness, despair and fury roll around me:I'm like a maniac 'side the ocean's brink,
Whose howling, raging waves attempt to drown me,
Increase my burden, yet I cannot sink!
XVII.
I'm like a reptile hurl'd by heav'n's commands,Midst dæmons all neglected by their God!
Each transient horror thro' my mind expands,
And now my soul is dragg'd beneath the sod.
XVIII.
And there I see the fiends of hell deridingMy soul as it attempts to rise whilst falling:
I see mine Ada's spirit upwards gliding,
And all save me attend God's universal calling!
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XIX.
Help heav'n, I sink! Oh! What a land is here!What sounds appalling meet my bursting ear!
What horrid forms are ye? Speak! Miscreants tell,
Are ye the phantom habitants of hell?
XX.
Ha! grinning on me? Spectres do ye dareOn me to hurl your dark, demoniac glare?
Hence, wretches! tell your bloody fury-lords
That dauntless Caspian scorns their snaky chords.
XXI.
Ah! do I wake! and were these horrors thenA vision form'd by all-deluding sleep?
They were, I see the waving trees again,
And heav'n's own azure, all so calm and deep.
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XXII.
Hail! welcome Sun, thy splendour re-appearing,Again cheers one who loves to gaze on thee,
Ages thou hast thine heav'nly main been steering,
And now the only friend that's left for me.
XXIII.
In heav'n's calm seas an orient vessel gliding,Where glory reigns, nor winds, nor waves do roar;
And tho' at times in distant regions hiding,
Thy modest smile enchants each mundane shore.
XXIV.
O man! that humble monarch of the sky,Breathes forth the essence of humility;
Modest in pow'r and beauty does it roam,
Alike to bless the king and peasant home.
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XXV.
Refulgent orb! how bounteously thy pow'rsDo rule and modify each coming day,
How meekly dost thou regulate the hours,
Which wasted, spurn'd, forsaken glide away!
XXVI.
Time is a bird, the motions of whose wingDenote the hours of each successive flight:
A fickle elf, which doth at pleasure bring
Long hours of grief, or moments of delight.
XXVII.
Her pow'r is such, each limitaneous dayWith some resolves into infinity;
With others years and ages glide away,
As if to war against eternity!
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XXVIII.
O Time! why brookest thou men's lethargy,Who know, yet do not venerate thy worth?
And tho' the shortness of their lot confess,
Yet trifle with thee till they quit the earth.
XXIX.
Or what is worse, instead of followingNature's pure laws, and making them the guide
To virtue, Oh! thou find'st them wallowing
In learned ignorance or conceited pride.
XXX.
Instead of picking up that solid store,Thou scatterest before their blinded eyes,
They stand and listen to the ocean's roar,
Or idly chase the painted butterflies.
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XXXI.
And if perchance they catch the gaudy spoil.Their violence tears the pleasing plumage off;
Or they describe each spot with useless toil,
And call it wisdom! to wise men a scoff.
XXXII.
Hence with their follies, let the truly wise,Their duty to their God and man pursue,
And leave such foolish vain philosophies,
To the half-thinking, and deluded crew.
This is addressed to the followers of the false philosophy of Aristotle, which he had abandoned. Its dogmas are too well known to be commented on, it needs only be said, that they ane now entirely exploded, through the influence of, and mode of study adopted, and recommended by the illustrious Bacon.
XXXIII.
O intellect, in littleness excelling,Canst thou not claim plain reason as thine own?
There is a grinning urchin in thee dwelling,
Whisp'ring that all thou knowest is unknown!
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XXXIV.
Thou art a taper, darkly, dimly burning,Whose rays scarce glimmer o'er the objects round thee,
Beside a star, whose radiance smiles whilst spurning
Thy feeble light, whose flick'ring beams confound thee.
XXXV.
But what avails it, life is but a flow'r,Which buds, then op'ning, blooms into decay;
Its blossoms all are scatter'd 'neath a show'r,
And by the gentle zephyrs blown away;
But heav'n's sweet fruit appears, whilst they resolve to clay.
XXXVI.
All, I forgive, but how can I forget,The fiends who drove me to the gaping tomb?
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Be shortly fetter'd in oblivion's womb.
XXXVII.
Farewell! Oh, may forgiveness generate,Within their hearts one sympathetic glow;
Oh, may a knowledge of my hapless state
Tell, how they err'd in wounding Caspian so!
XXXVIII.
Again, farewell! the glorious prize is won,And life is passing like a storm away:
I thought it transient, and that it begun,
To usher in a more congenial day.”
THE END:
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