University of Virginia Library

Oh! Man, through whose imperious, restless soul
Stern dreams of grandeur and of empire roll,
Still pant ye for Earth's glorious crowns and thrones,
Nor heed though thousands' agonizing groans,
Distracted curses, and discordant cries,
To Heaven in dread appeal tumultuous rise,
If proud Ambition prompt, and Fortune grant
The fatal aid, 'twere well that you should want!—
For this, disfigured is the Earth's fair face,
O'erclouded Nature's glory and her grace—
Victory's Volcano shakes the shuddering world,
While banners steeped in blood float wide unfurled,
Till, haply, sated, sickened at the last
With all the gory triumphs of the past,
The stormy luxury and fierce joy of War,
Ye quit at once th' Earth-desolating Car,
And wreak your energies on finer aims,
(But still for Earth's vain plaudits and acclaims)
And bid Creation once more reassume
Its banished brightness and its blighted bloom;
Nay, at your word another aspect wear,
And shine yet more majestic and more fair!
Here peak-y-fronting Pyramids arise,
Attesting columns spurn the invaded skies—
There lift with pride their brazen gates and walls,
League-covering—nation-sheltering Capitals!—
The laboured Wilderness tamed, vanquished yields,
The increase confined before to favoured fields—
The stony rock, the rugged and the rude,
Smiles with sweet promise, softened and subdued—
Old mountains are deposed, or lower'd, or pierced—
Floods for their bold wild liberties amerced,
Pent in and prisoned, and enslaved, and schooled,
And by a hand of glorious mastery ruled—
The mighty seas, that thundering shake the shore,
Are curbed and straitened in their headlong roar,
Where massive breakwaters upreared divide
The impatient foaming of the indignant tide!
Earth's depths are ransacked for her gems and ores,
Her radiant spoils, and her resplendent stores—
Where gloomy forests spread their shadows round,
Gay harvests gild the open smiling ground—
The produce of far climes is wafted o'er
Unto some alien, uncongenial shore—
And yet ye do more wond'rous deeds than these,
With patient energy and peaceful ease!
Lo! mark where Science at her will lays bare
The secrets of the Earth and of the Air,
The workings of great Nature's mighty heart
Detected, pierced, and probed in every part,
Even where 'mongst worlds of great and glorious scope
She seems to mock his efforts and his hope!
Yes! there his triumph and success behold—
The curtain shrinks uplifted and uprolled—
The cloud is softened and dissolved away,
Where Night frowned dark, shine gleams of living Day—
The mighty Master seems unchecked to move,
Obeyed by all around, and all above—
World after world, with chrystal walls and gates,
At that dread Conqueror's call capitulates!—
Lo! how he speeds upon his path of power,
Though deepest mysteries o'er his progress lower—
How doth he toil upon his task of Pride,
Nor pause till light is thrown on ev'ry side!
Those orbs that through the Heavens majestic roll,
Like the great thoughts of an Eternal Soul,
Are taught their splendid secrets to reveal—
The spell is spoken—shattered is the seal!
Upon their radiant and immortal way
They are questioned by the ambitious Child of clay—
Their mighty futures and mysterious fates,
With fine precision he unerring states;
Upon their march of majesty and might,
Are they—the Thrones of Time and Lords of Light—
Forestalled—almost it might appear, foredoomed
(Such high authority hath he assumed)
By him who walketh for a little while
Before their presence, and beneath their smile,
Then sinks into his Earth, and all forgets,
The Sun that rises, and the Sun that sets;
And to his children leaves it to observe
If from the paths he prophesied they swerve;
But, lo! they swerve not—steadfast and serene,
Mark them fulfil the course he had foreseen!
As though these dared not disappoint his dream,
Nor mar the glory of his noble scheme;
As these dared not dispute and disobey
His stern authority—his Soul's strong sway;
Aye! as they dared not falsify and foil
His proud assertion, and defeat his toil!
While thus, though far in space' clear depths enshrined,
Their destinies are fathomed and devined,
And to the gaze of wond'ring eyes exposed,
Imperiously devined, and fearlessly disclosed.

Yes! Man hath made his empire to extend
Proudly and nobly, without bound or end;
Still, without faultering, doth he onwards press,
To Nature's farthest shrine and last recess.
Such are the Victories—such the works of Mind!
Till Thought o'ertasked—o'erwrought, reels black and blind,
Dazzled with too much light (while th' ardent will
Would gather Knowledge upon Knowledge still
And Might combine with Might, and Skill with Skill,)
Till Haughty with that Knowledge and that power,
Man's lofty Spirit doth unbending tower,
And his high heart elate with triumph grows,
As though he gave the laws he dares expose!
As though 'twas his to arrange that perfect plan:
Tis only his to follow and to scan—
His to establish the Order he evolves,
To originate the Scheme he Sounds and solves!

Man! still the mastery and the rule maintain,
And triumph in your undisputed reign,
And still the monarchs and the masters be—
Exult ye in your sway and sovereignty!
Be still of this Majestic World the Kings!
Extend your rule o'er all terrestrial things
Still claim, and keep as your own right from birth,
This Empire proud of the Universal Earth!
Claim Science, Knowledge, Glory for your own,
And hold the Sceptre still, and fill the throne;
Receive transcendant Nature's richest fees—
Keep the great Universe's glorious Keys—
The strong Keys of its vast unnumbered wards!—
And of Creation reign the undoubted Lords!
Weave round your brows the laurel's shining wreath,
And sound your Victories with the trumpet's breath;
Strict laws on all around ye, still impose—
While spreads your lofty fame—your triumph grows!—
Unfold majestic mysteries and august,
And soar beyond this darkness and this dust!
Oh! man—the ruler and the chief remain,
Nor find a rival to your splendid reign;
Aye! keep your proud dominion and renown,
Preserve the charter and possess the crown!

Retain your trophies, and repeat your toils,
Grasp your deserved success, and glean your spoils!
Keep ye the insignia of your sovereign state—
The emblems of your great and lofty fate,
And all the bold inventions that bestow
Your high and dread supremacy below;
Still make your own the Sciences and the Arts,
Keep, keep your optic tubes—retorts and charts,
Your sun-dipped pencils and your flame-tipped pens,
The loadstone, and the lever, and the lens;
And keep your proud distinctions still your own,
Each badge and sign that makes your mastery known—
Your sceptres, helms, your mitres, palms, and globes,
Your truncheons, laurels, scutcheons, crowns, and robes;
Your chariots, and your banners, and your swords,
Your mighty revenues and dazzling hoards!—
Of subjugated Earth remain the lords,
And of the conquered elements—and still
Advance from state to state, from skill to skill;
Add greatness, unto greatness evermore,
And spread your wide command, from shore to shore.

Lo! there is one—a meek one, at your side,
To sway, superior—and too pure for pride;
Yet she too claims an empire for her own,
A blameless sceptre, and a peaceful throne—
She hath a province and a place apart—
Proud Ruler of the World!—it is thy heart!
Ah! doth she envy thee—thy strength—thy state—
And strive to be as powerful and as great—
Thy might—thy glory—doth she seek to share?
No!—all she hopes—and all she asks—is there!
And let her mourn not o'er a broken Hope,
Nor bid her crownless head, dejected droop;
But let her wear her own sweet smiles in peace,
So shall her gentle joy nor fade nor cease—
Leave, leave to Woman her fair myrtle-wreath,
Unshadowed by Despair, unscathed by Death;
Let every leaf be green, and pure, and bright,
Love is the crown that gilds her Soul of Light!
She smiles away from her the gauds of power,
Nor heeds though dark her changed horizon lower,
Though the atmosphere around be fraught with gloom,
Though at her feet should yawn the frowning tomb,
If Love's dear voice but whisper to her soul,
And in her sight he spreads his starry scroll—
Then all is well!—though suffering, gloom, and care,
And all the ills and griefs of life be there.
And, oh! the sway, the splendour, and the state,
To her can be but as a grief and weight,
A sorrow, and a suffering, and a sting,
Pain's certain source, and Misery's fertile spring,
If unaccompanied, oh! Love, by thee,
That still the Angel of her Life must be!—
And all is wrong!—and bitterness and care
Attend her and become her mournful share—
'Twas thus of old the fair Egyptians mourned,
Torn from that Land to which they ne'er returned,
To be indeed advanced to high estate,
To them how dark a woe—how dire a weight;
Bound by their sad alliance, they deplored
And languished for the Land so much adored,
Desiring but one draught of its sweet stream,
Till past their life in that distracted dream—
Perchance the chosen of their souls remained
In that far Home, by Fate's caprice detained,
Then all that was in Egypt was beloved,
And all abhorred, from its dear soil removed!
By the deep Voice of buried feelings called,
Till every pulse was thrilled, each power was thralled,
They wandered weary on their darkened way,
Wailed through the night, and then wept down the day!
Around their brows the royal diadem blazed,
But, oh! how gladly would they then have raised
That cumbrous diadem from the aching brows,
Cold, colourless, and cold as wintery snows!—
The jewelled mantles round their forms were thrown,
How gladly too would they have laid these down,
And from their dazzling shoulders have unbound
The gorgeous folds that swept resplendent round,
Could they have been from those strange shores removed,
Once more restored unto the Land they loved!

Could they have been by pitying hand set free,
And borne back to their Home of Infancy.
But this might not be!—and they pined away,
And fainter waxed with each succeeding day;
They pined on their proud thrones with fevered thoughts,
And vainly yearned for the forbidden draughts
Of their own distant and divided stream,
In that distracted and delirious dream;
Full many a strange caprice hath restless grief,
And still she seeks on all sides for relief,
And dreams, and doubts, and wishes, and believes,
And every chance impression still receives;
And still retains with fond tenacious hold,
And to her will, the stubborn truth would mould;
With wild delirious desperation still
She grasps those things which ne'er her hopes fulfil!
Those things which caused not, nor can cure the ill.
Thus did those martyrs of a love-born grief
Cling wildly to the fond and vain belief
That those sweet draughts could make their anguish less,
And soothe their suffering, and console and bless!—
Draughts from the old Royal Stream, of whose clear tide
They whilom drank—ere hope within them died!—
That stream they quaffed of yore, when all looked bright,
And Earth and Heaven seemed one to their glad sight!
In their Heart's sunny times and cloudless years—
Their Life's fair rosy seasons—while fond tears
Channelled their pallid cheeks—(by the alien air—
Into no healthful glow, warmed brightly there,
But tinted with the hectic flush of care);
And burning sighs their gentle bosoms heaved—
By sighs, nor tears, or lightened, or relieved;
Even so pined vainly on a foreign strand,
The Royal lilies of old Egypt's land—
Captives and victims they—though all around
Was glad and lovely—but no joy they found—
Whose hearts, not hands, were fettered and were bound;
Mocked vainly with the show of Liberty—
They could not seek their dear ones—could not die!
Their gorgeous palaces and cities fair,
Might not distract them from their one despair—
Dearer than all to them their cherished chain,
And their sole pleasure centred in their pain!
And, Oh! how closely were they fettered down—
These weary wearers of the o'erwhelming crown;
The winds swept freely through the skies above—
The streams did in the joy of freedom move—
The birds spread joyously their fluttering wings—
The smile of Freedom lightened o'er all things;
But they were bowed beneath an iron reign,
And their heart's wreathen fibres wrought their chain;
For, Oh! the heart too fondly wooed its care,
By one o'erpowering dream still haunted there
One dream of love, and passion, and despair—
Its fibres and its pulses evermore,
Thrilled to the thoughts, which pierced it to the core:
Haunted, o'erwearied, and nor soothed, nor quelled,
Till from the seat of Life the fount of Life had welled.

Woman must live to love—or live to mourn
For one dear destiny designed and born!
The thousand interests and the unnumbered aims,
Which each in turn Man's fond attention claims,
For her are nothing—raised above them all,
She never heeds their claim, nor hears their call
For her—Life's noisy changes come and part,
And leave a hopeless silence of the heart;
Unless Love's voice pierce through them sweet and clear,
And then Love's Voice alone 'tis hers to hear!
Then is she roused—and all her soul returns—
A deep, deep answer, and responsive burns!
Still let her gladly through Life's wild scenes move,
And crown her with that angel crown of Love—
That precious diadem of starry light,
Yea! let it wreathe her brow for ever bright!
Still let it shine unshattered and unstained,
From Heaven received—for Heaven be it retained!