 | Jairah, A Dramatic Mystery ; and Other Poems |  |
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.
| Jairah, A Dramatic Mystery ; and Other Poems | |