 | Jairah, A Dramatic Mystery ; and Other Poems |  |
1
ACT I.
SCENE I.
—A Forest.—Time, Sunset.Jairah, alone.
Jai.
He comes not!—Yet it is almost the hour
The westering sun resigns his glorious power.
Lo!—slow he sinks—the gorgeous clouds far-spread,
Wear deepening hues—and blushing radiance shed,
Those vapoury-lengthening pageantries uncrowned,
Shorn of their splendours, shall ere long be found
Grey as old Time—that ever, as they show
In the fair Firmaments their fleeting glow,
Triumphs and glories in a finished day—
One step of his long race and tedious way
Completed and fulfilled—and left at last
Behind him, with the waxing—lengthening Past!—
2
I'st not some light, faint footstep drawing near?
But why this tremour?—this unwonted start?—
Why creeps the blood, slow-curdling round my heart?—
This should be guilt!—yet guilt may not be mine,
Conscience—a constant zeal can o'er refine;
And so she vergeth on a vain excess!—
Through ceaseless exercise of watchfulness!
And evermore—
Mahala enters.
Mah.
My sire—in search of thee
In wandered vainly—long and wearily,
Some hours ago—not here my way I won—
And here thou art!—in meditation lone,
Addressed to contemplate yon sinking sphere,
Whose death's too beauteous to impose a fear,
Even on the frailest and least stable mind,
So brightly still, 'mid purpling clouds enshrined,
And clothed and crowned with glory, rich and deep,
His golden harvest doth he parting reap—
Descending, walks his most triumphal way,
And Night is heralded by more than Day!—
The seasons so conclude their measured round,
Even so their close is with fresh glory crowned.
The waning year, ere wasted, it expires,
Blooms with new fervours—burns with added fires.
'Tis thus the westering sun—the wintering year
3
Still nature lessons us in love and hope,
And bids us ne'er in cheerless langour droop;
And, oh! what gratitude of heart and mind,
And soul and sense should thrill all human kind!
Father—beloved Father!—did the sound
Of our united voices' tones profound,
Upraised adoringly in holiest hymn,
Not pierce these forest arches—dense and dim—
The massy glooms were sure by th' echoes cleft,
Yet of thy presence were we still bereft!
It saddened even my thoughtful-breathing prayers,
As with a shadowing taint of human cares,
To miss thee from thy long-accustomed place,
Where thy calm aspect's venerable grace
Was wont around a hallowing tone to shed
Of earnest truth—as from its fountain-head!—
While seemed thy fervent and most flashing eye,
Melted and softened with humility!—
It looked religion, as it upwards threw
Its speaking glances—though light clouds and few
From time to time obscured it.—Ah! my sire!
Those darkening clouds—that damp its sacred fire—
Frown oftener now, and with a sterner gloom,
Sad as the lowering shadows of the tomb!
Along thy patriarchal brow—
Jai.
Forbear!
My gentle child!—and let it be thy care
4
With offerings meet of earliest fruit and flowers,
And guileless heart, as fresh and pure as these,
The children of the sun-dew and the breeze—
Pour out that heart in worship's zeal, and pray
For him, thine absent sire—for all away—
Who may not share in those blest rites—nor show
Their trust in Him—the Lord of all below!—
Mah.
Father!—forgive thy faithful daughter's love,
Thou hast instilled for Him who reigns above,
In glory's everlasting light enshrined,
Such love—such reverence in my youthful mind,
That it must grieve mine inmost heart to see
The faintest sign of any change in thee—
That 'tis deep sorrow but to see thee slight
The outward observance and the accustomed rite;
Though well I feel and know that 'tis—for us
That the evil's wrought, if evil happeneth thus.
Too firm, too fixed is thine established soul,
Still pressing forward to the eternal goal—
For aught of petty circumstance to shake—
Or less devoted to its duties make!—
But we—more easily were turned aside
From virtue's paths, without our honoured guide,
More lightly, tempted, were to rove astray,
Nor keep the smooth, straight tenour of our way,
If thou didst cherish not each good intent
By thine example's dear encouragement!
5
Thou wilt forgive its earnest warmth, I feel.
Thou that didst first inspire it—first implant,
And these, my loving wishes, deign to grant!—
Our morning and our evening rites attend,
And still with ours thy supplications blend.
Then, oh!—what joy 'twill prove, once more to see
Thee, our loved father, midst thy family!—
What joy, from thine own honoured voice to hear
Those cherished precepts thus made doubly dear!—
So wilt thou for thy kinsmen's—children's sake—
One midst our solemn congregations make!—
Though thine own soul, in free and fearless flight,
Long since soared up to worship's holiest height!
Long since, upspringing from earth's dust and clay,
Exulting reached the loftiest realms of day.
Nor thence descended—but transfixed remained
On those bright summits it had well attained;
Scarce cast one thought beneath, one look behind,
Of Heaven all-seeing—but to earth grown blind!
Though moving yet midst mortal things, and made
To wear that fleshly form man's sins degrade—
'Tis for our sakes that thou ev'n now wilt deign
To stoop awhile to mount as high again!—
To stoop—to teach us like thyself to rise,
And marshal our bright passage to the skies!
Jai.
My daughter!—my sweet daughter!—be it thine
To walk in holiness and peace—'tis mine
6
Than thou couldst fathom—thine imagination
Is peopled with the beautiful and bright,
And revels in one luxury of glad light.
All nature's beauty shines reflected there—
Be bless'd and blessing thou—'tis mine to bear—
Mah.
Ah! father! fair is Nature—pure and grand—
The work is worthy of the Almighty hand;
(Worthy of the Creator's power supreme,
Still all His works and all their wonders seem;)
And when, transparent as her heavens by night,
That show ten thousand worlds of conquering light,
The shadow of His Godhead she appears,
'Tis then an aspect more august she wears!
The light of His dread countenance on hers
Seems brightly cast, and endless pomp confers!—
Is't not beneath the touch of mightiest prayer
That mystic consciousnesses fill the air?—
Then doth the Beautiful at once become
A thousand-fold more fair, with heaven-born bloom—
Then nature takes her nobler form—we feel
'Tis then she doth her awful truths reveal—
Her mystical transparency to those
Whose spirit with the Eternal Presence glows!
Well may they bless her—they may well bow down,
And worship Her great Maker and their Own!—
They veil the sun with one more dazzling Thought,
To Him upturned who that bright wonder wrought!
7
That many a world unknown to vision gives!
Oh! let us haste to fall before Him now—
Alas!—that look austere—that angered brow—
What have I said to cause that altered mien?
That front for me hath ever shown serene!—
Jai.
Enough! my child—I bid thee hence,—begone!—
Fain would I pass some thoughtful hours alone—
On these deep subjects touch thou not again.
It is thy praises that have given me pain!
Wherefore, I know not well—yet it is so—
Old thoughts rise up—dismissed long, long ago.—
Leave me, I pray thee—I reproach thee not—
But hence!—I charge thee, haste and quit this spot.
Mah.
I go, obedient to thy high command;—
But, ere I go, would kiss thine honoured hand,
And hear thee speak one kind consoling word,
And my presumption's pardon thus accord!—
Saidst thou thou chid'st me not?—upon mine ear
Fall no harsh accents from those lips so dear;—
But heavy fall upon my watchful heart
Thine anger's saddening tokens!—I depart!—
Jai.
Yet stay a moment's space, my daughter!—stay!
Bear hence my blessing!—No!—not so!—away!—
But I do bless thee—though between us roll
Worlds wide and waste,—gulphs yawn 'twixt soul and soul:—
Though man and fiend forbid—though death and fate,
And ruin interpose,—and sin and hate,—
8
Yea! I will bless thee—and defy them all:
For thy sweet sake Heaven's peace shall be my guest,
Yea!—I will bless thee—and thou shalt be blest!
Mah.
I tremble!—for thy words grow dark and wild;
Calm thee—compose thy thoughts—for me, thy child!
Thine eye is flashing with terrific fire,
Thy lip convulsed, and curled with desperate ire—
Blackened thy front with some portentous cloud—
Oh! call for help on pitying Heaven, aloud.—
Jai.
Away!—depart from me, my daughter—cease—
And leave me now to solitude and peace.
No more!—begone!—nor longer here delay,
Thank my forbearance, and at once obey!
[Exit Mahala.
(Alone.)
A weight is off my heart, now she is gone!
I love, and yet I dread to be alone!
Still will I long these forest-depths explore,
While sterner shadows chequer earth's dim floor;
Mid close recesses of tremendous gloom,
Where human footsteps shall not dare to come;
But they shall visit me—yea! here awhile,
Will I await them, and my doubts beguile.—
(A pause,)
They come not—nor that Being, more than all,
Who seems yet more than Being!—at whose call
I almost deem the universe would quake—
Through its vast realms—yet shall my soul not shake,
Through its more boundless nature!—proudly, no!
Before One Being only 'twould do so!—
9
For Thou alone should'st its prostration see—
Thou only view its faultering courage fail,
Thou only bid this daring spirit quail!
Thou knowst, whate'er I claim—whate'er I crave,
Thy wrath I dare not brook, Thy judgments brave—
But seek to reconcile to Thy high will
That fate I feel commissioned to fulfil.
Is my design not good?—my purpose kind?
Why with misgivings shrinks my anxious mind?—
Away with these vain thoughts! if these intrude,
Too weak and wavering grows my changeful mood.
Be thou, my dubious soul, of better cheer:
They come not—I must bid them to appear!—
For through a new-accorded power, 'tis mine
To breathe a deeper spell—to make such sign
As must the most unruly teach to bow,
And own themselves the mastered—now, e'en now!—
Why do I hesitate?—full oft before
Have I used spells, and charms of mystic lore:
Yet ne'er of such supreme, such dreadful might—
To think it o'er e'en chills me with affright!
Worlds from their parent systems might be torn,
Checked on their path the coming times, unborn;
All the elements from rule and order driven,
Were that dread spell pronounced—that signal given,
In its full tyranny unproved,—unknown—
Part of its powers will I awake alone!—
10
Then let me face these terrors undismayed:
E'en thus I hesitate!—what is't I fear?—
No matter!—it must be!—the hour draws near!
(He mutters an incantation.)
They come! my conscious soul their presence owns,
As ocean doth the storms!—when low it moans,
Breathless with its intense expectancy,
Now sinking and now swelling—must it be?
It must!—and doubt and frozen dread are vain,
They come, and o'er my prostrate being reign!—
Spirits of mystery!—ye are round me now,
Spirits whose breath seems withering up my brow!
All unbeholden—unimagined all!—
That yet obey my spell's prevailing thrall!
Oh! take the medium of a mortal voice,
That thus my soul may listen and rejoice!—
(A voice is heard.)
A voice of many voices!—lo!—a sound
That troubles all the awakening air around,
That undistinguishably uttered, thrills
My soul with consternation,—awes and chills!—
No peace my long-conflicting feelings find;
Strange harrowing doubts distract my restless mind;
Spirits unseen, now hovering round me here,
I ask ye not—nor wish ye to appear.
This grace unto my watchful zeal allow,
Link mortal voice with mortal language now,
11
A language and a meaning, and so breaks
The oppressive tension of my senses: lo!
Like sounds of many waters doth it flow!
Voice.
Mortal!—thy wish disclose—thy will unfold—
We listen!—from the mountains hoar and old,
From the ocean, in monarchic purple robed—
The central mines that never have been probed;
The starry ether—and the unbounded space!
We come, we come—to one of clay's lost race!
From these—and more than these—we come—we come,—
Each from our Undiscoverable Home;
From the Uncommunicativeness of Mystery,
Since ne'er shall earth's frail archives hold our history!
From the unimagined depths of our lone peace—
Dare mortals' spells bid that bright calm to cease?
We come, we come—disclose thy will to us—
Who speed to serve thee, and obey thee—thus!
The spirits of all the elements are we,
The dwellers of the unmoved eternity:
To thee and to thy mandate's thrall we bow,
We listen and await!—command us thou!
Declare at once thy need and thy desire—
Then swift release us!—haste—and say—retire!
Jai.
Knowledge! full knowledge!—bow ye to my spell,
And sweep away the Incomprehensible
From mine impatient thought—accord a sign
By which I mine at once perceive—divine—
12
Grant this—ye mightiest beings!—proud and pure!
Grant this—and all my soul for evermore
Shall deep thanksgivings yield, free praises pour!
Voice.
First unto us must thou, e'en thou, reveal,
Thine aim—thy purpose—nor in aught conceal:
First unreservedly to us impart
The hidden wiles and workings of thy heart;
Thy will must thou declare—thy wish disclose;
And more—the secret of thy soul expose:
The height and depth of thine aspiring dream,
And all the springs the shapings of thy scheme.
Do this, and we will serve thee, and obey;
Do this—and it is done!—but speak and say!
Jai.
How!—bare to ye the depths of my design!—
Ye have your mysteries, Spirits!—I have mine!
Unquestioningly obey me—or depart;
Consent and cavil not—or crush my heart
And wound my spirit with your harsh denial,
'Twill be the o'erflowing of wrath's burning vial.
Consent—and unconditionally too,
Or hence!—avaunt!—till ye are called anew—
Since even with strength increased—and added might,
Will I compel ye yet—and claim my right;
Unmurmuringly my mandate's power confess,
Nor strive my secret quest to glimpse or guess:
Pause not, nor shrink—fulfil my fixed desire,
At once obey me—or at once retire!—
13
You brave my anger, and call down my curse—
But so, ye disputatious spirits—dread
His wrath who calls ye subjects!—I have said!
Voice.
The spirits of the elements are we,
The dwellers in the unchanged eternity;
The mighty spirit of the air awaits
Thine uttered phantasies, to make them fates!—
Thy spoken wishes—syllabled desires—
To crown and grant them ere the hour expires!
The hurricane he hurled from out his hand,
Nought heeding but thy high and strong command!
He hastened to obey thy word and beck,
For thine is power we may not chain nor check;
Wrung from unutterable, unknown probations,
And carried through all Systems and Creations:
He hurried to do homage e'en to thee;
Fettered to earth in frail humanity—
The loosened hurricane went howling on,
Till all that met its madness were undone!
It sped, and scattered terror wide and far.
A sweeping Ruin—and a flying War!—
Ten thousand thrones of triumph he had piled,
Of clouds in yonder azure ocean isled;
But these he left—left all, to greet thee here—
The Ruler of the boundless Air is near!—
The glorious Spirit of the all-searching Fire
Attends to do thy bidding and desire!—
14
And mightiest gifts and dread can be confer,
Touching the unconscious earth with flaming feet,
Doth he the mortal and the magian greet!
His steps scorch not—nor scar the dewy ground,
Since veiled he moves in shadowy guise profound!
Where the volcanoes pour their boiling streams
He builds his couch, and basks in lurid beams;
Where midst stunned worlds the crackling comets fly,
He breathes—and burns defiance through the sky!
Stern task had he of late, and mission dire—
He—the awful Spirit of the all-searching fire!—
Lo!—he was bade to blight, and to destroy,
A world that once rolled free in flashing joy!—
Scattering the illuminations of its pride
Gladly around, unchecked, on every side!—
Then did he haste to spread his glittering wings,
And bore destruction 'mid its glorious things;
There did he gird himself with strength and state,
There, crowned with conflagrations, beamed elate!
His was stern triumph, none might hope to check;
His car of victory was a world's fall'n wreck!
Forth from his nostrils smoked the breath of wrath,
And desolations blackened round his path;
But from that maddening festival of flame,
To do thy bidding and behest—he came;
The tyranny of thy dark spell o'ertook,
The conqueror 'mid his might—his rent throne shook!
15
Where ashes smoked—where once a world had been!
The Fire King hastened from his triumphs then,
And waits thy word—thou terrible of men!
The Spirit of the Waters is at hand,
Called by the potent voice of thy command!
Vast are his liquid kingdoms—without end,
Through the unimagined regions these extend!
The waters hung above the firmament,
Shrink at his sign—or at his voice find vent;
The waters that in countless currents flow
Beneath the firmaments, his mastery know;
The fountains of the Deep his will obey,
Acknowledging the fulness of his sway;
The billows are the chariots of his state,
The cataracts are his trumpets!—blown elate!
Their long-resounding tones with deep'ning swell,
Upon the shuddering sense o'erpow'ring dwell—
The water-columns of the sea appear
The pillars of his blue pavilion clear!
His foamy banners he, ere long, shall raise,
Through the hours portentous of disastrous days,
Mighty his ministration shall be made,
His march of ruin shall no more be stayed;
The earth shall launch her lightnings at the skies;
Lightnings of flashing surges, thence shall rise—
And she shall groan in thunders—hark! what sound
Muttered in mustering strength—from the profound?—
16
A barrenness—'mid happier spheres misplaced;
Weep for the fallen—the foundered—fated—weep;
Life's glorious riot—quenched in death's cold sleep;
Weep for the myriads—ruined and destroyed,
Their works all vanished—and their world a void;
Their strong-holds vanquished, and their sunshine veiled,
Their towers, their mountains, ev'n by the ocean scaled!
Earth grows their sepulchre, dark doom and dread,
For she herself lies low ensepulchred,
In the fierce swallowing tides, and from the spheres
Is blotted—till the universe is tears!—
Weep not!—enough of weeping shall there be,
Earth's furrowed face is blistered by the sea,
Whose sharp, salt sources shall be poured and poured,
Till Chaos for awhile shall seem restored,
Since fragments of crushed rocks shall drift along,
Those boiling surges in their triumph strong—
And meteor-flashes of the appeaseless ire,
Shall chafe their surface with the unmingling fire—
While hissing horribly towards heaven's sole shore,
The annihilating waves exulting roar—
And savage winds—their trumpets blow through all!—
Not from the grave, but to the grave to call!
Loud as the archangel's summons that shall sound,
When judgment cometh—and the judge is crowned,
He unto Chaos called—it understood!—
Creation answered Him—and it was good!—
17
Chaos makes answer, trembling—“I am here!”
Oh, men!—ye doomed ones! whither shall ye fly?
The stars shrink from ye farther in the sky;
Your very prayers, that speak your shuddering dread,
Rain back in mocking ruin on your head.
Even could ye climb the loftiest mountain's steep,
Ye might not scape the inexorable Deep—
For that should follow with its deafening howl,
With thunder of fierce shouts, and laughter foul;
And carry fearlessly its foaming war,
Up the Height's pointed Perpendicular—
Nor thence in headlong cataracts swift descend,
But raise its front on high, with heaven to blend;
That lurid heaven—dark lowering to a hell,
Where but the fiends of wrath shall seem to dwell.
So of Creation shall be Chaos made,
And Hell of Heaven!—are men yet undismayed?
Of boundless Life one universal Death,—
Of Day one Midnight palled in doom beneath!
Of coming vengeance is not earth apprized?
Are portents stern and prophecies despised:
They will not heed, till roars the raging sea
Their sentence to their souls unpityingly!
Till Death no longer doth on Time await,
Who singly calls frail mortals to their fate;—
But gorged with life's uncounted millions all,
Holds hideous holiday and festival.
18
And surges huge, the scaly host upbuoy—
The dragon, like earth's demon, from his den,
Creeps wondering—and the dolphin revels then;—
Where bounded free the panther in his pride,
But they e'en perish in the o'ertroubled tide!
Leviathan goes lashing on his way,
Till he too sinks—the whirling waters' prey!—
In whose unwholesome rage and fury armed,
Nought living can remain—nought rest unharmed;
Save those alone—the singled forth—the saved;
Those, not by fears defiled nor sins enslaved,
The cherished ones and chosen!—who shall float
O'er that dire swell, from danger's grasp remote,
Enshrined in peace and safety in their ark,
The mortal-builded—but heaven-beaconed bark!
Stamped on Seth's seed this first salvation's seal:
More dare we not pronounce—nor more reveal.
The Water Spirit waiteth for thy word,
He by whose will the ocean-depths are stirred;
To yeasty trouble, and o'erpowering strife,
To harrowing mockery of most tortured life!
And, lo!—the sorrowing Spirit of the Earth—
Bows to thy bidding now—who watched thy birth;
Consents unto thy thrall and thy command,
Thy power confesses—nor may dare withstand:
These spirits hang upon thy breath and beck.
A charm is thine whose power they dare not check;
19
Thy purpose—and thy hidden soul discern;
And more—yet unimaginably more—
Spirits whose sway is not of sea or shore—
Of air or fire—or aught that may belong
To this Creation, own thy mastery strong!
Spirits of elements to thee unknown,
Unclassed—uncounted—ne'er to mortals shown—
Those which the eye of soul ne'er wandered o'er—
More—more—yet unimaginably more!—
Speak then, oh, mighty! ask what boon thou wilt;
But if not good—on thee shall rest the guilt.
Speak—and ordain—but first must thou disclose
Thy secret purpose, and thy aim expose!
Jai.
I tell ye, never!—till that aim is made
Atchievement's fulness! hence! withdraw your aid—
Refuse your counsels—and reject my prayers—
I yet will hunt ye to your hidden lairs—
Yet force ye to comply, and make ye bow
Before the master that ye mock e'en now;
With strength diminished, and with power curtailed,
That spell I spoke, in mystery's dimness veiled—
But ye shall hear it!—and acknowledge yet
The rule ye seem well-minded to forget!—
Not here that charm's tremendous influence ends,
Serve him as slaves whom ye forsake as friends;
No guests, but vassals shall ye henceforth prove,
And crouch in fear—that would not cede in love!—
20
To sound their depth no time my task affords.
I scorn your muttered prophecies and threats—
And mock ye!—mockers!—hence!—if th' earth's sun sets,
'Twill in no deluge be, save one of blood,
When man is roused, and his fiend-foes withstood!
Ye vaunt it bravely!—but it matters not—
Ye yet shall yield—and on this self-same spot!—
Here shall ye yield to him ye here defy;
Back to your earth—your elements—your sky!—
Your whispering vain denouncements move not me,
I cannot pause, and fear nor these—nor ye!—
The future may seem full of heavy fate—
He who appoints may yet his wrath abate!
He who alone can fix—may yet see fit—
That wrath to man in mercy to remit!—
I tremble not!—for nought that is without
Can shake me with one pang of dread or doubt;
I tremble but when that which prompts within,
Points to some evil thought or deed of sin!—
And yet—no more—begone, dark beings! now,
I ask no answer—and will none allow!—
The hour draws near when ye shall feel my ire,
Meantime—no more—reply not, but retire!—
[A rushing noise is heard.
(A pause.)
Now will I seek, ere morning's rosy smile,
The calm refreshments of repose awhile
[Exit.
21
SCENE II.
ADRAMELECH AND MAHALA.Adr.
Long hours and dark have passed since we have met,
I sought thee not—yet did I not forget—
But vigils stern,—ordeals dread and deep,
Have mine been,—through long nights denied to sleep,
And strange observances and mystic cares,
Whose troublous strife, the watchful spirit wears—
'Twas since to these dark tasks I did incline,
I shunned that more than heavenly brow of thine:
I would not have thee share the grief—the gloom,
But snatch with me life's brightness and its bloom!—
Mah.
Thou didst and dost me wrong!—for me those hours
Flowed heavily, in my forsaken bowers!—
How heavily I may not strive to tell—
All of love's truth is the undescribable—
Still sorrowing o'er thine absence, time for me
Seemed yawning to a blank eternity!
And dars't thou say—thou dost not think—my heart
Could e'er know rest, or peace from thine apart?—
Think'st thou my soul a single pang to spare,
22
Ah! no! with sympathy of sufferance still,
'Twould answering feel—nay! aggravate each ill!—
Thou darest not dream that I would shrink from aught
That thou endurest—shame be on the thought!
I will not abdicate love's holiest right—
To share as well the sorrow as delight;
Nor be thus dispossessed of all I prize
On earth the most, the power to soothe thy sighs,
To charm thy cares to stillness, or divide—
In joy or misery, still with thee allied!
Adr.
Mine own beloved! and wilt thou share with me,
I know not what of dread and agony?—
Wilt thou not shrink when perils press between?
Wilt take thy leave of earth's familiar scene?
Affront ten thousand dangers thickening round,
And dwell with threatening glooms mysterious bound?
Wilt thou, mine own beloved, dare these and more?
For awful destinies must be in store
For me—Ah! pardon—sweet!—for us—I feel!—
More than these lips—than language can reveal.
Wilt thou indeed?—wilt share my rise or fall—
Wilt share my perils—my probations?
Mah.
All!
Adr.
Wilt thou forget all known and natural ties,
And turn from earth and heaven thy 'wildered eyes?
Wilt bow with me to some tremendous thrall,
And cope with things thought dare not grasp—
23
All! All!
Adr.
Nay—hear me!—mark, and weigh, and ponder well,
Whilst I the truth, in all its terrors, tell!—
Wilt thou with me dread penalties incur—
Brave fierce contention's agonizing stir—
Wilt thou indeed partake my deadliest doom—
And plunge with me in its abyss of gloom?—
Mah.
Would I could more than suffer it, and share it!
Would that for thee ev'n I alone might bear it!
Oh! 'twere worse pain, worse anguish to partake,
Than sole to suffer it for thy dear sake.
For thee would I all agonies affront—
All dangers brook—all stern disasters brunt.
For thee would face all the evils of creation—
For thee—not with thee—dare—annihilation!—
No!—not with thee—thou glory and thou pride
Of the earthly race with which thou walk'st allied!
Adr.
I do and must believe thee—and no more
Will brave alone what I have borne before.
Rise up into thy Rights!—for thou say'st well,
Love claims through all things with the loved to dwell!
Thou shalt ere long thine arduous task commence—
Receive my soul's unclouded confidence!—
The fullest trust that I can give—receive;
And as I grant thee credence—me believe.
Enter with me on this most solemn pact;
Be ours deep unity of aim and act—
Of plan—of purport—thought and trust and deed.
24
Yet hold!—still pause one moment—yet a word—
Those tears speak volumes!—but I must be heard!—
Thou may'st not know and shouldst not know, mine own!—
(For of some thoughts and things thou still hast shown,
Even childhood's innocence!—and thou art pure
As morning's dews—so may'st thou long endure!)
How passions can reign strong in man's wild heart—
From holy gracious tenderness—apart!—
Alas! it is too much—and must I show
To thee these depths of wildness and of woe?
I must—down, down—stung heart!—peace, madd'ning brain!
Dark tale!—thou must be told!—this pause is vain!—
I must lay bare my blighted soul to thee,
Ere that our compact be completed—see!—
The strong man weakened—to the dust e'en bowed!—
The brave man daunted, and abased the proud—
The bold abashed—the reckless one dismayed—
As if in full career o'erta'en and stayed!—
Never till now—No!—never, till this hour
Before, or strength, or pride, or wealth, or power,
Trembled my soul to utter or avow
Aught unto any!—Hide thy glorious brow,
Too terrible in beauty, while I speak!
Oh! turn away that sun-envermeilled cheek!
I may not dare behold its blush of fire—
At that I must reveal—and still respire!
25
And unto thine unlooked-on eyes unveil
The haunting horrors of my soul!—Attend!—
Mah.
I do!—Pronounce!—while soul in soul we blend—
But fear not—dream not aught that thou canst say
Can scare one sweet throb of my love away—
One dreaming of my strong devotion—no!
Sin—madness—ruin—death—should ne'er do so!—
No! though black crimes have steeped and stained thy soul,
Love's sacred breath shall purify the whole!—
For where love smiles can sin be left behind!—
The seraph still must exorcise the fiend!
Thine—thine I am, through all things, thine alone;
Through crowned affection's mightiest charm—thine own.
Ah! would I might be more of thine—yet more—
For this distinct existence I abhor!—
Divideless souls, and yet a separate state—
Distracted elements—though blended fate—
I would but have thy life, thy pulse, thy will—
Think through thy thoughts—but breathe through thy breath still!
Would I were more than thine!—would I might be
Absorbed—annihilated into—thee!—
Adr.
Mine own Mahala!—yet I pray thee—cease!—
Not these sweet words can witch me back to peace!
The stern task lies before me!—I must strive
To lend my pangs a language—and yet live!—
26
Or in its fulness would I now avouch
This adoration's uttermost excess!—
This fond and fathomless devotedness—
My life!—I love thee—but thou'rt not the first—
[Mahala faints.
Distraction!—She is gone—and I—accursed!—
'Tis I have held the poison to her lips—
Brought on her head this last—worst—dread eclipse.
There lies she—reft from feeling and from breath,
All heaven, and earth, and nature now are death—
Softly!—had I forgot my wonderous spell—
A whisper and a signal—all is well!—
Mahala! come to my wrung soul once more;
Thus let its life be trebled—to adore!—
Speak!—cans't thou ne'er forgive me that I loved
Ere bright perfection lived and breathed and moved
Before me, in that form which grew my fate?—
True! some soft instinct should have bid me wait—
Some mystic sympathy—some strange, sweet tie—
Till thou before me beamed thus matchlessly!—
Yet pardon me—that wandering lone and far,
Ere my sun rose, I hailed a herald star!—
'Twas but a first soft lesson in love's art
Whose heavenly lore enlightens now my heart—
An introduction sweet—and faint insight—
To love's blest tome (that book of life and light.)
Thus pardon me!—and hear me now proceed
27
Those words that haply yet may cost me all—
Which prompts us still to bless life's stubborn thrall!—
Oh! 'tis humiliation's triumph thus
To breathe to thee, in accents tremulous,
The hated history of my deeds of old—
That record which till now was ne'er unrolled!—
And pour confessions, in thine ear averse,
Of crimes—their condemnation—and their curse!
To bear this bruised heart's heavy chroniclings
Of dark and desperate, and of deadly things!
My crimes?—Aye! worse—my weaknesses!—for still
I stand the unfaultering champion of my will.
But hear and judge!—And oh! in mercy deign
To pardon all—yet pity not my pain.
Not pity!—no!—too much like love is this,
And that is still too much of maddening bliss—
The wretch who stands before thee—must not now,
While tasked a truth so fearful to avow,
Receive of sympathy's indulgence aught.
No! worse distraction darkens from that thought!—
Pronounce my pardon!—but with stifled breath
And stern, averted aspect—cold as death!—
Mah.
My heart pronounces it!—thou know'st of old,
If that to thee can be or stern or cold!
Adr.
(not heeding her.)
Oh! my lost Zophiël! thou, creation's flower,
But doomed to blush and bloom for one brief hour,
28
Give moonbeams for my pencils, calm and clear.
Oh! no!—too cold!—and colours there are none
To show how thy young dewy day-spring shone—
I cannot paint thy likeness!—not unless
A soul like thine, all lucid loveliness,
Could be o'er-pictured with that portraiture,
Thou—but for me—despite me—still so pure—
Which beauty-breathing thoughts should blazon there—
Then 'twould mistaken be—too heavenly fair—
For something of etherial race and birth,
And lift the spirit that it stamped—from earth!—
Thus e'en thine Image could not bide below,
But, like thyself, from this dull planet go.
I cannot paint thy likeness!—thou didst seem
Too delicate for truth—too dear for dream!
Through that transparent tenderness and grace,—
That effluence of the eternal light—thy face—
'Twas love himself—there softly smiling shone—
Thy soul—and form—and face—and love were one!
He lighted all thy loveliness—that lit
His radiance more—and did his beams transmit!
Till earth was made, as 'twere, his sun serene,
His and thy presence so illumed her scene;
All the elements emparadising so,
That midway raised to heaven she seemed to glow.
Mah.
Thy spirit wandereth to the lost one's grave;
Collect thy thoughts—alas!—thou dost but rave!
29
I thank thee, that hast brought me back to life!—
The dark soul-murder of its daily strife—
The wreck—the desolation and the blight—
This piercing painfulness of loveless light—
All—all this loathsomeness of misery—
Back to myself—to madness—and—
Mah.
To me!—
Ah! when to thee had it before seemed woe,
To quit even heaven—to find me still below?
Return unto my soul!—whate'er this grief—
Let the exercise of patience bring relief,
But most the deep devotion, yet untried,
That would be proud—for thee but to have died;
Yet that devotion scarce I dare intrude
On the dark sternness of thy solemn mood!—
Still—might she soothe who doubly feels thy pain—
Ah! but forgive me—speak of her again;
Call all thy sorrowing memories round thee now,
I will at least with hard-learned patience bow;
To thy stern mandate silently submit,
Nor breathe of pity—though I pine for it!
Endure to see thy much-loved bosom bleed,
Nor show that pity I myself most need!
Adr.
Oh!—she was beauteous!—and her smiles and tears
Were e'en like those of infancy's sweet years—
Sudden and soft—yet full of soul no less,
And worlds of melancholy tenderness;
30
Her prophet-heart anticipated woe!—
Her form was fragile as those phantasies
That flit before the poet's haunted eyes—
Not compassed round with glorious majesty—
To strike—to awe—and to command, like thee!
Not like to thine her mien—my promised bride!—
Whose regal port speak passion's might and pride!—
Whose aspect shows so awful though serene—
And stamps thee where thou stand'st—Creation's Queen!
No!—hers was meek and shrinking and subdued—
As though to pass unmarked—unsought—she sued—
Girt round with innocency's holiest charm,
And gentleness a whisper might alarm!
Shrouded in hushed submissiveness, that lent
New witchery to her drooping languishment
And, oh! the imploring eloquence of eyes,
Dewy and blue as spring's delicious skies;
But their beseeching glances prayed in vain,
These might not so avert the blight—the stain—
The wrath, the ruin by the furies fed,—
Destined to fall on that too helpless head—
And talked I not of innocency's charm?—
That too availed not to protect from harm—
The foulest, fellest e'er by fiends devised,
To snatch to fate the unwary soul surprised—
No! nought availed!—Mild Mercy smiled not near,
And Love was lost in wrath and hate and fear.
31
Yet pause awhile—thy troublous tale seems fraught
With torments of excruciating thought!—
Adr.
Pause?—pause?—I checked not then my murtherous course,
But headlong rushed—then paused not in remorse—
Not for the pleading of soft pity stayed—
Nor for one hour the undying deed delayed—
Mah.
Speak thou once more of the unknown lost one's grace,
Her harmony of form and heaven of face!—
Oh! let me strive to learn her looks—and live,
So like the Dead, thou mayst thyself forgive,
And deem she still is clasped unto thy soul,
For thee to bless and succour and console.
(Aside.)
Fain would I thus beguile him to forget
That task, so trying, he attempts—self-set!
Adr.
Veiled in a cloud of blushes, still she came,
As doth the morning star, in light and flame.
Not that herself, in sooth, had aught to hide;
'Twas the base world those cheeks of beauty dyed
With the eloquence of rich suffusions so;
Mantled for us that mediatorial glow.
And how she loved me!—words were worse than weak,
That love's unfathomable depths to speak!
For her still seemed—while lingering here beneath—
Law on my lip—and being from my breath—
My shadow was the very sun to her;
32
But at mine accents, consciousness awoke,
Her soul was still suspended—till I spoke!—
Then grew my words her meaning!—and my will
The very destiny that ruled her still!—
The destiny she blest, although 'twas death—
And worse—she loved perdition from my breath;
And nobly I that tenderness repaid,
And generous was the accursed return I made;
A lofty answer and a worthy found,
That trembling lowliness of love profound!—
Affection's sweet sublimities how well
I shared and felt—nor faultered—though she fell!—
Heaven was to her that spot whereon I stood,
My evil was for her the only good!—
Mah.
Say on!—and tell me—teach me how I love;
For all thou say'st 'tis I have proved and prove;
And more!—since I have climbed the dizziest height
And pinnacle of pride, with dark delight,
To fling myself from thence at thy loved feet,
And find the abasement of my soul more sweet!
Lo!—I yet boast of pride—thus bowed to thee;
For I am proud of my humility!—
I glory in that lowliness of love,
With which so richly burthened I too move!
Shame on the soul which were not proud to fall,
And yield to love its powers and treasures—all.
Shame on thy loved one's shade—if she forgot
33
Give me no throne—my soul's own voice hath said—
Save in the dust thou tramplest with thy tread!
Give me no worlds—or earthly or divine,
Save 'twere to spurn them for one smile of thine;—
I, who once asked an angel's mounting wing,
Grow, at thy beck, a downcast drooping thing!
And am I proud! yea! gloriously I own—
But of this slavery unto thee alone!—
To bend, for thy dear sake, and by thy side,
Crowns all my heart's ambition and its pride!
Adr.
Dare not to speak 'gainst her one darkling word—
Who but too madly loved—too much adored;—
If she was silent—oh! her spirit spoke;
The avowal from her acts—not accents, broke—
She weighed not, watched not what those feelings were
That love to fill all earth's quick hearts might spare!
Still more than all—immeasurably more,
To unapproachable excess—adore!—
No skill of tongue was hers—no strife of thought;
Love was her element—all else was nought!
Love was her whole existence!—essence—end—
Nor sought she eloquence to truth to lend;
To me her feelings flowed—her thoughts to me,
Affection grew life's sweet necessity!
Back on themselves these thoughts were never turned,
To teach the mysteries they unconscious learned;
I knew the councils of her curtained breast,
34
She paused not—pondered not—from their first birth
Those young emotions like to doves—came forth—
To brood but in my bosom—there to bide—
Still termed in mine—rolled all her being's tide!
No labour was her love—her only skill—
Was breathless full submission of her will!
Entire devotedness—unbounded zeal—
Whose keen intenseness—scarce she knew to feel—
Nay! speak not—lest I own to thy pained ear—
Her silence,—than thine eloquence more dear!—
Mah.
Avow it!—I will yet play such a part
As even must fix thy long-divided heart—
And then—yet no!—till that proud part I play,
I lock my lips—'tis thou that shalt unsay!—
And spare thyself!—thou needst not more unfold:—
Unto my listening heart—the tale is told!—
Words vexed and broken, can full much express—
To sentient feeling's wakeful watchfulness!—
There needs but this,—when frowned that fated deed,
Betwixt thy soul and heaven?—break, Hope! thy reed!
I see that heaven, snatched farther from mine eyes,
I feel thy fault hurls both—from yon veiled skies,
Both bans—both banishes—for well thou know'st
Thy fate is mine—my soul goes where thou goest!
And must demand like ruin and like wreck,
And all thy doom—adored Adramelech!
And wherefore was that deed of darkness wrought?
Thus much disclose—then shut the seal on thought!
35
Nay! ask not how, or where, or why, or when,
That deed was wrought which stamps me—worst of men!
Suffice—I bowed to fiend's infernal laws—
Devoting thus—the cherished to—the cause!—
Enquire not farther—let thus much suffice—
The sinless fell—the sinner's sacrifice!
Sinless in all things, save in loving one,
Who led, lured, lessoned her—to be undone.
Yet all unconsciously—unwitting all—
She tottered—trembled onwards to her fall!—
She faced for me the torture and the tomb—
The depths of undiscoverable doom!—
But dreamed not all that lay concealed behind,
The worse than woe to which she was consigned,
All the everlastingness of ruin brought—
On her, beyond the tracery of man's thought—
No common destiny—no foretold curse—
A doom from whence chill'd fancy shrinks averse!
And I have called her—but she never came!—
Through nights of sleepless woe have breathed that name,
Whose echo seems an earthquake's crash and peals,
As judgment thunders loud—till Reason reels!—
Seest thou the gory spot, this front that stains,
A brand of blood far deeper seared than Cain's!—
Hell's fires are burnt into my brain through this,
And my scorched heart the undying victim 'tis!—
Mah.
No more!—I charge thee speak no farther word—
My heart in truth hath too distinctly heard,
Like waters troubled by an angry sky,
36
Lo!—now hear me and mine!—Erewhile didst thou
Speak of sworn compact;—ratify it now!—
Now be thy love no more by doubt chastised,
The Marriage of our Souls be solemnized!—
Would'st have my spirit with thine own unite?
So be it!—thus and here receive my plight!
My choice—my deep election, now are made—
Call thou my soul's roused energies to aid!
Thou askedst me to weigh—mark—choose—I do—
And most deliberately and deeply too!—
With thee in hope, and heart, and hand I join,
Thy paths, thy plans—thine aims and acts be mine!
But first—resolve me!—saidst thou thou hadst prayed,
And vainly to thy Zöphiel's silent shade?—
Doth she resist thy call—reject thy claim?
And hast thou cried to her—who never came?
Adr.
(looking upwards,)
I have implored, besought thee—day and night—
Adjured with agonizing passion's might—
I have—my Zöphiel—murdered—martyred—thou!—
Who teachest him who never bent—to bow—
And I, the unshrinking one—the haughty-souled—
Blind in the dust have gasping, grovelling rolled,—
And groaned forth supplications that might wring
The past from its oblivion's withering—
Vainly—all vainly!—thou hast answered not—
Unheeded the despair—the love forgot,—
And I have moaned in misery's abject mood,
37
Withstood and mocked for ever!—all in vain!—
A rain of blood comes sapping heart and brain;
And a live darkness folds me as a snake—
In venomed grasp—till my swoln pulses ache;
And I have said! come forth!—from death's dread gloom,
What though to crush,—condemn—consume me—come!
Not to enlighten these so phrenzied eyes,
To blast—annihilate—appear!—arise!—
Mah.
Yet tell me, oh, beloved!—art not thou lord
Of mightiest spells?—but speak the lightning word—
Pronounce the fearful—
Adr.
Hush!—no more! no more!
I sought her, and besought her o'er and o'er;
Implored—urged—prayed—adjured—yet might not dare
To whisper that unto the listening air—
All other means and methods tried I still—
But shrunk from that—and yet I must fulfil;
She stands the sworn selected oracle—
And her dark presence I must yet compell.—
Mah.
But hear me farther!—I step in to spare!—
Thou shalt not brave that suffering!—hear!—I swear;
I swear by all yon burning stars that roll—
With searching light—that looks into the soul;—
By death and life—and that most awful spell,
Which seems the wreck of all things to foretell;
By all that love hath taught me—his distress,
His conquering powers—his shuddering happiness;
38
If this be needful—mine, ev'n mine to shed!—
Aye!—by thy victim's lost, lost soul I swear,
To crown myself the next!—but say—“Prepare!”—
And with dread joy will I embrace my fate,
The torment and the triumph consummate!
One word from thee should snatch my Spirit back,
From the unseen bourne—along the untrodden track!
But if such should not be thy law, thy will—
Then will I live—thy slave and minion still—
Think—breathe—act—hope—feel—do and deem and dare—
But as thou givest me licence!—thus I swear!—
Adr.
Now mak'st thou me to mourn my blasted state,
Since I must bless thee not!—thou bright and great!—
Live!—and be more than ever loved!—I feel—
That thou art made for me, through woe and weal;
Fear—fate—and chance—and change—I feel with pride,
Thou art my being's mate!—my spirit's bride!—
Live! if earth yet indeed can hold—detain—
A soul of such vast scope—so wide a reign—
Ha!—who approacheth—with calm aspect bright—
An angel's form, and garmented in light.—
Enter Adah.
Adah.
Mahala! I rejoice we thus have met!
My childhood's sweet companion—cherished yet—
And through affection's golden sympathies—
Homed in my heart—though rent be the olden ties:
39
And we are wanderers from each well-known scene—
Hail!—welcome me, Mahala!—still thou art
The fair and gracious sister of my heart.—
Mah.
I welcome thee!—my childhood's gentlest friend,
And clasp in love the hand thou dost extend;
Returning lovingly thy greetings all—
How doth thy presence that flown past recall!—
Adah.
Aye! sweet Mahala!—when together we
Linked hand and hand, light bounded merrily,
To catch the butterfly, or chase the bird,
Like them, half-hovering in the air unheard!—
So free those footsteps—care had ne'er delayed,
So light these hearts, no grief had earthwards weighed;
Yet holier recollections softening come,
And snatch me back to that beloved home.
Rememberest thou how solemnly we felt—
When whispering prayers, together down we knelt—
Together sent our sister-souls to heaven,
And prayed to be protected—bless'd—forgiven.
Long have these memories haunted me, and late
With yearnings gracious and affectionate—
Once more with thee would I Heaven's grace implore,
Join in thanksgivings, and in prayers once more!—
Mah.
Enough!—I cannot commune with thee now—
Farewell!—I must depart—
Adah.
But hear me thou!—
Most dear Mahala!—Even return with me
40
For he will joy with me to view that face,
So beauteous now with youth's consummate grace;—
Return with me, awhile midst us to dwell,
And share my tasks and duties—is it well?—
Mah.
'Tis well!—sweet sister of my youth—and yet
My tasks—my duties, must I not forget!
Know, since we shared one prayer, one play, one sleep,
Wild changes have come o'er me, dark and deep:
Youth's toys and gewgaws have I left behind,
And heap'd with knowledge high my waken'd mind—
My thoughts are turned to strange and lofty things—
Mine are proud dreams, and bright imaginings—
Keen burning aspirations—yearnings strong,
That like winged gusts drive all my soul along
The wonders of creation, scarce revealed,
And charming more the more they are concealed,
The mysteries that around us throng and teem,
These things, and more inspire my mounting dream.
I cannot come with thee!—for I must watch
Through noon and evening and the night, to catch
Dim hints and faint illuminings, and store
My mind with knowledge deep, not grasped before,
When searching stars are trembling o'er my head,
I question these of glorious truths and dread,
And awful visions are vouchafed to me
That radiate far into the eternity—
And startling scenes rise up before my sight,
41
And solemn whispers warn me from afar,
Profound and piercing and oracular!—
I cannot come with thee!—
Adah.
Ah!—yet unsay!—
Yet come and pass with me one long, bright day
Thou revellest in the dreams of worlds unseen,
Perchance unborn!—that are, or that have been
A glorious spectacle is Nature still—
Right well her wondrous part doth she fulfil!—
A glorious spectacle's the universe—
In every phase and function!—change and course,
And doubtless with majestic triumphs fraught,
Glow the aspirations of ambitious thought!—
But man—weak man should not alone aspire.
Fixed should he be on high ere he soar higher!—
A nobler task's appointed unto him,
A loftier aim be his!—his thoughts may swim
Midst worlds unnumbered, in luxurious strife,
With glorying phantasies sublimely rife—
With triumph—mystery and victorious power;
Yet nobler is the self-restraining hour!—
The hour of contrite tears and humble cares,
The exalting hour of penitence and prayers!—
Oh!—let him make his soul, schooled long and well,
In Heaven's own eye a glorious Spectacle!—
More precious thousand-fold than worlds that move
In measured harmony—not conscious love!
42
This proves his proudest task—his loftiest care.
Not all life's burning hopes and dreams august
Can match the humility that clasps the dust!
Let me but win thee to her ways again,
Thou'lt hug her burthens—and thou'lt kiss her chain.
Mah.
Not so!—thou little know'st me!—Hence!—away!
A prisoned storm seems struggling in this clay!
My soul was born to soar and to aspire—
Its thoughts are tempests—and its feelings fire!—
All joins to wake, to stir—touch—thrill—create—
Rouse—raise that burning soul above its fate!—
Humility!—I may not know the word!—
My swelling bosom owns no answering chord—
Joy—joy—to feel the mysteries of the mind
With all the mysteries hid from man—combined—
The incomprehensibilities of Thought
Into one luxury of aspiring wrought!
While strong emotions—fervid longings blend
To one rich exultation without end!—
Adah.
Yet hear me!—bear with me!—dost mind thee not
Still of the o'ershadowing tree—our favourite spot?—
The accustomed haunt of our bright happiness,
Where kneeled we nightly, praying Heaven to bless—
Rose not thy childish thoughts e'en then on high?—
Sprang not thine infant mind to the op'ning sky?—
Hath not Religion too her rapt delights?—
43
Hadst thou continued in their paths to move,
New triumphs had accorded been to love!—
New inspirations—in progressive power
Had heightened all the joys of prayer's calm hour!
Is Heaven indeed not high enough for thee?—
Not scope sufficient is the Eternity?—
Is He not worthy of thy praise who made
Those wonders, thou so gladly hast surveyed?—
Doth His dread throne all veiled in blinding light—
Not satisfy thy quest?—reward thy flight?—
Once more with me prayer's boundless blessings prove,
And own no wonder like the Heavenly Love!
Adr.
Something too much of pious preaching this—
Its end shall be beginning of our bliss!
Peace!—woman!—peace!—when thy advice we ask,
Renew the tame, trite theme—repeat the task.
Adah.
I did not thee advise—not counsel thee,
Thou graceless man of gloomy mystery!—
Irreverend scorner!—that in sullen mood—
In savage silence near, hast frowning stood—
Methinks I know thee!—art not thou the man
Proscribed, beneath some stern, tremendous ban—
Art thou not he that from the righteous way
Hast led of late my much-changed sire astray?
Yes! thou art the man! and Heaven, in mercy, spare
My gray-haired father from thy murtherous snare!—
Him hast thou made—I speak with shudd'ring sigh—
44
Him hast thou made thy comrade in thy cause—
Some foul rebellion 'gainst the eternal laws!—
Thy comrade—aye!—yet, dark apostate!—hear!
He is not—never can be made—thy peer!
First in the rank of crime shalt thou be class'd—
Ev'n by the infernal spirits unsurpassed!
Adr.
In pity to thyself, but pause awhile!
I answer with compassionating smile!
My peer!—no!—no!—thou need'st not nurse that dread.
Well say'st thou, he hath followed where I led!—
He dreams we have one scheme—one strife—one sphere—
One aim—one object—is the worm my peer?—
(Aside.)
He knows not mine, dull dotard!—vain and blind;
But his is fathomed by my searching mind!
Apostate?—I fling back that charge to thee—
Thyself—accuse of cold apostacy—
Weak woman!—to thy glorious race a stain!—
Flows in such veins the haughty blood of Cain?—
Hence! with thy fulsome preaching and foul prate—
Art thou elected portress of heaven's gate?—
Say, are heaven's keys committed to thy hands?—
Hopest thou to draw us with such slippery bands?—
Aadh.
To thee I speak no more!—Mahala!—come!—
Haste—haste—and share with me one hope—one home—
Seize, crown the occasion now and bless the hour!—
Leave this unrighteous man of evil power—
This ruined being lost—accursed—abhorred—
45
Leave him!—ere wilder things he speak and worse—
Consign him to his conscience—and his curse!
Contamination in his presence dwells—
Sin—ruin—death—are in his godless spells!—
Mah.
Leave?—leave?—I love even as thou lovest Him,
Whose chariot is the fiery cherubim!
Leave him?—I love him as thou lov'st the Lord!
And his I am in thought and deed and word,
My deepest soul is bound to his for ever—
Thus hurl I back thine answer—never—never!
Adah.
Worse woe!—and wilt thou lose for him thine all,
And face the precipice—provoke the fall,
And yield thine immortality of bliss
For such a lost blaspheming wretch as this?
Mah.
Discourse not me of immortality!—
If love reign not, what can it be—to be!
I tell ye, I had rather live One Hour,—
One moment even of passion in its power,
One moment of the burning, beating heart,
When every pulse hath learned its own sweet part,
Than linger through the eternity above,
If that eternity be not of love!—
That long, dark, immortality of soul,
If love be not the deep life of the whole!—
Aye!—I would gladly—gloryingly compress
All my soul's faculties of happiness—
Its rushing strengths—its heaven-enkindled fires—
46
Its every stormy energy and power!—
Wills—dreams and thoughts into that feeling hour,
Rather—yea! rather would do thus by far
Than count vain ages in some colder star!—
Love hath its own eternity!—It is
Its own rich immortality of bliss!—
And through its power—through its resistless laws—
All joy from Past and Future conquering draws.—
I will not leave him! he is as my soul,
One thought of him doth all my thoughts controul.
I cannot leave him—I am his—all his!—
In life or death, in misery or in bliss!—
Thou tell'st me still of mine immortal Soul,
Which shall not die while suns and planets roll;
Mine everlasting Life, which cannot fail,
Though stars and suns and systems wane and pale.
I tell thee of my deep, immortal Love—
Which lives while life is found beneath—above—
I cannot leave him!—No!—we must not part!—
My Soul hath spoken!—thou hast heard my Heart!
Adah.
Alas! thy daring and distempered thought
Another lesson may ere long be taught!
If not for thine own sake, thou wilt forswear
The fatal paths of doubt and of despair—
For his consent—for his sole sake comply—
Thy prayers might yet appease the offended sky!
Thy zealous deeds of good, perchance, might yet
47
How couldst thou bear—to aid all powerless—bear
To see the eternal throes of his despair?
Thine own forgotten in his darker fate—
Bethink thee well!—pause—pause ere 'tis too late!
Couldst bear his pangs—which thou mightst not assuage?
Since thou should'st see his sufferings, age by age!—
Mah.
Oh! thou Omnipotent—dread mystery!
From these fierce threats I do appeal to Thee!
Crush not thine own creation in my soul!—
Love—love, thine offspring, lives throughout the whole!
Hear thine own voice that from its depths doth rise—
The voice of love, on earth as in the skies—
Perfect—immortal!—not for me I pray—
Kill all my soul!—spare his! in thy great sway!—
Heaven!—Heaven!—crush down my writhing soul—or give
An infinite of life for it to live—
And all one torture!—I care not—so he
Be blessed and spared for all felicity!
[She faints.
Adr.
Begone! thou hateful babbler!—dost come here
To cloud that noble soul with gloom and fear?—
Back to thy tents!—or I will conjure round
Foul fiends to bear thee to their lairs profound!
Adah.
I do not fear thee! sorcerer!—but I go—
Since vain my mission now, I fear—I know—
Yet will I seek Mahala once again,
And strive with her proud heart—ev'n though in vain!—
[Exit Adah.
48
(recovering.)
I tremble!—who will succour—who shall save?—
Heard'st thou that threat'ning angel of the grave?—
No! 'twas my gentle Adah—mild and meek!
Couldst thou such words of curdling horror speak?—
Ah! did I act it well? my soul!—reply!—
When dared I proudly those high truths defy!
While not one word she spoke but thrilled me—more—
Woke thousand echoes in my bosom's core!
Support me hence!—Beloved One!—stern and rude
To me seems now the oppressive solitude—
Lo! let us seek thy brethren—all my heart
Is sick to death—quick!—let us hence depart!
[Exeunt.
END OF ACT I.
| Jairah, A Dramatic Mystery ; and Other Poems | |