University of Virginia Library


431

EPILUDE

BEFORE THE CURTAIN.

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Enter, on the stage, the Chancellor, followed by a dark throng of Actors. They kneel.
The Lord.
Now what are ye who hither come and kneel?

Chancellor.
The poor spent players of the Tragedy.

The Lord.
First, ye who played the lowliest parts of all,
Fulfilling them with your best courtesy,
Ye who were slain and made the sport of Kings,
Come hither to my side; for thro' your masks
I see the fairest of my host.


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Spirits.
We come!

The Lord.
And ye who spake a little speech and went,
And stalk'd upon the stage in rich attire,
Go by, sit lower. Where is Lucifer?

Chancellor
(unmasking).
Here.

The Lord.
Thy dark part was excellently played—
A trifle dull, and modell'd after him
Who played the part of Man of Destiny.

Lucifer.
Master of souls—that part I also played.

The Lord.
And Buonaparté.


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Lucifer.
My pet character!—
Sire, I prepared the play at thy command,
And being thy liege servant plotted out
The parts to each soul as stage-manager;
Nor willingly would have myself essayed
The mighty monologues and leading parts,
But that the other actors, one and all,
Were slow of study and too scrupulous
In the great text they spake.
To all the staff I offer'd Buonaparte—
None would essay it of our company;
Wherefore I made it mine, and for like reasons
Kept to myself the other leading parts.

The Lord.
None could have played them better, or so well:
And never since the earthly Play began
Hast thou, mine evil Angel wrought for good,
Spoke the dark speech Divine more willingly.


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Lucifer.
Since we have played the drama to Thy liking,
Deign, King of Heaven,
To hear our Chorus sing the Final Song
Or Epode. A poor actor on the scene,
Who in the crowded background stood and gaped,
A mortal poet, is the author, Sire!
It is a mere cantata—one of those
Wild songs which the obscure upon the stage
(Nobodies who would fain be somebodies,
Starving king-haters who would fain play kings)
Have ever made to while away the time;
And Thou, whose calm eyes measure all to come,
Will smile to see how oft this poet tries
To peer into the future and to sound
The advent of thy Kingdom;

A crude early version of this “final song” was printed as a sequel to “Napoleon Fallen;” but “Christ” appeared there instead of “the Soul” in the final passages. I found that the words, “Christ shall arise and reign,” were too literally interpreted as a statement that Jesus Christ was to come in the flesh and rule the world; and as I meant nothing of the sort, but only that the spiritual part of Christ should be present during the reign of the perfect Spirit of Humanity, I have taken good care this time to avoid misconstruction. There is another misconstruction which I fear—that of a mere pantheistic reading of my “Cantata.” Surely, however, no reader who has followed my representation of divine agencies throughout the Drama will do me the injustice of supposing that I consider man by any means the highest of beings. There are times, indeed, when I doubt if he is the highest of animals. We find on examination that those gentlemen who insist most on the superiority of man in the scale of nature, insist quite as much on the adjective “white,” and coming a little nearer home, on the adjective “British.” The formula that man is highest of beings, when uttered here in Britain, then generally resolves itself into this other formula—“the British white man is the highest of beings.” Conceive a chain of development culminating in Mr. Carlyle at one point, at another in Mr. Disraeli, and at another in ex-Governor Eyre.

yet, indeed,

The thing is pleasant to the ear when sung—
Small service is true service—and we know
God is not critical.


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The Lord.
'Tis well. Sing on.

Chorus.
The Soul shall arise.
Power and its vanity,
Pride's black insanity,
Lust and its revelry
Shall with war's devilry
Pass from humanity.
The Soul shall arise.

Semi-Chorus I.
As from night springs golden-wingëd morrow,
As a bloom on the grey bough in the May.

Semi-Chorus II.
From darkness, and from coldness, and from sorrow
He shall issue living to the day.


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Semi-Chorus I.
As a wild, wild rose-tree when 'tis snowing
Feels the unborn roses and is bright,
Pants the Earth, and, though the storm be blowing,
Knows the birth within her day and night.

Semi-Chorus II.
Like a fount by spring's warm breath unfrozen,
Like a song-bird waking in the nest,
On the breast of Earth awakes the chosen,
First and last, the brightest and the best.

Chorus of the Dead.
Where we sleeping lie, where we sleeping lie,
We hear the sound and our spirits cry;
As we sleeping lie in the Lord's own Breast,
Calm, so calm, for the place is blest,
We, who died that this might be,
Souls of the great, and wise, and free;

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Souls that sung, and souls that sighed,
Souls that pointed to God and died;
Souls of martyrs, souls of the wise;
Souls of women with weeping eyes;
Souls whose graves like waves of the sea
Cover the world from west to east;
Souls whose bodies ached painfully,
Till they broke to prophetic moan and ceased;
Souls that sleep in the gentle night,
We hear the cry and we see the light.
Did we die in vain? did we die in vain?
Ah! that indeed were the bitterest pain!
But we see the light and we bless the cry,
Where we sleeping lie, where we sleeping lie.

Chorus of Citizens.
He cometh late, this greatest under God,
Promised for countless years, he cometh late—
Where shall he dwell? The cities of our state
Are level with the sod.

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Shall he upbuild them then? Meantime, we wait
And see black footsteps where our martyrs trod.
He cometh late, forsooth, he cometh late,
This greatest under God!
Nor do we see the earth that he will claim
Is riper yet than on the natal day.
All lands are bloody, and a crimson flame
Eats Hope's poor heart away.
Where shall he turn for peace? whom shall he trust for stay?
The anarchs of the world still sit and sway
The hearts of men to evil;—Hunger and Thirst
Moan at the palace door; and birds of prey
Still scream above the harvest as at first.
Should he then come at all,
This Soul on whom ye call,
How should he dwell on earth? would he not find it curst?


441

Semi-Chorus I.
As the young lamb by its dam runs leaping,
As the young bird to the old bough clings,
Born to Earth in darkness and in weeping,
He shall cherish her from whom he springs.

Semi-Chorus II.
He shall guide her blind feet very slowly,
He shall guide her as none other can,
He shall crown her brows and hail her holy,
Mother of the mighty Soul of man.

Chorus.
The Soul shall arise.
Sweetness and sanity,
Slaying all vanity,
Shall to love's holiness,
Meekness and lowliness,
Shepherd humanity.
The Soul shall arise.


442

Semi-Chorus I.
He shall rise a creature and a spirit,
Guiding Earth, yet guided as they go.
If her low voice speaketh he shall hear it:
Secrets of her bygone he shall know.

Semi-Chorus II.
He shall hear her voice and answer brightly;
They shall wander on by ways untrod;
He shall rest upon her bosom nightly,
Nestling there and looking up to God.

Semi-Chorus I.
Shall they dwell for evermore together,
Earth and the fair creature of her breast?
Nay; but on some day of golden weather
They shall find a pleasant spot and rest.

Semi-Chorus II.
Peace! ye souls who make sad acclamation,
Wringing hands o'er broken towns of stone,
Soon the Soul shall build a habitation
Fairer than the fairest overthrown.


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Epode.
Comfort, O true and free,
Soon shall there rise for ye
A City fairer far than all ye plan;
Built on a rock of strength,
It shall arise at length,
Stately and fair and vast, the City meet for man!
Towering to yonder skies
Shall the fair City rise
In the sweet dawning of a day more pure:
House, mart, and street, and square,
Yea, and a fane for prayer—
Fair, and yet built by hands, strong, for it shall endure.
In the fair City then
Shall walk white-robëd men,
Wash'd in the river of peace that watereth it;
Woman with man shall meet
Freely in mart and street—
At the great council-board woman with man shall sit.

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Hunger and Thirst and Sin
Shall never pass therein.
Fed with pure dews of love, children shall grow.
Fearless and fair and free,
Honour'd by all that see,
Virgins in golden zones shall walk as white as snow.
There, on the fields around,
All men shall till the ground,
Corn shall wave yellow, and bright rivers stream;
Daily, at set of sun,
All, when their work is done,
Shall watch the heavens yearn down and the strange starlight gleam.
In the fair City of men
All shall be silent then,
While, on a reverent lute, gentle and low,
Some holy Bard shall play
Ditties divine, and say
Whence those that hear have come, whither in time they go.

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No man of blood shall dare
Wear the white mantle there;
No man of lust shall walk in street or mart;
Yet shall the Magdalen
Walk with the citizen;
Yet shall the sinner stand gracious and pure of heart.
Now, while days come and go,
Doth the fair City grow,
Surely its stones are laid in sun and moon.
Wise men and pure prepare
Ever this City fair.
Comfort, O ye that weep; it shall arise full soon.
When, stately, fair, and vast,
It doth uprise at last,
Who shall be King thereof, say, O ye wise?—
When the last blood is spilt,
When the fair City is built,
Unto the throne thereof the Monarch shall arise.

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Flower of blessedness,
Wrought out of heart's distress,
Light of all dreams of saintly men who died,
He shall arise some morn
One Soul of many born,
Lord of the realms of peace, heir of the Crucified.
O but he lingereth,
Drawing mysterious breath
In the dark womb where he was cast as seed.
Strange was the seed to sow,
Dark is the growth and slow;
Still hath he lain for long—now he grows quick indeed.
Quicken, O Soul of Man!
Perfect the mystic plan—
Come from the womb where thou art darkly wrought;
Wise men and pure prepare
Ever thy City fair—
Come when the City is built, sit on the Throne of Thought.

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Earth and all things that be
Wait, watch, and yearn for thee,
To thee all living things stretch hands bereaven;—
Perfect and sweet and bright,
Lord of the City of Light,
Last of the fruits of Earth, first of the fruits of Heaven.

THE END.