Specimens with Memoirs of the Less-known British Poets Part 62

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Edom at first dreads his victorious hand; Before him thousand captives trembling stand.

Down a precipice, deep down he casts them all; The mimic shapes in several postures fall: But then (mad fool!) he does those G.o.ds adore, Which when plucked down had wors.h.i.+pped him before.

Thus all his life to come is loss and shame: No help from G.o.ds, who themselves helped not, came.

All this Uzziah's strength and wit repairs, Leaving a well-built greatness to his heirs; Till leprous scurf, o'er his whole body cast, Takes him at first from men, from earth at last.

As virtuous was his son, and happier far; Buildings his peace, and trophies graced his war: But Achaz heaps up sins, as if he meant To make his worst forefathers innocent: He burns his son at Hinnon, whilst around The roaring child drums and loud trumpets sound: This to the boy a barbarous mercy grew, And s.n.a.t.c.hed him from all miseries to ensue.

Here Peca comes, and hundred thousands fall; Here Rezin marches up, and sweeps up all; Till like a sea the great Belochus' son Breaks upon both, and both does overrun.

The last of Adad's ancient stock is slain, Israel captived, and rich Damascus ta'en; All his wild rage to revenge Judah's wrong; But woe to kingdoms that have friends too strong!

Thus Hezekiah the torn empire took, And a.s.sur's king with his worse G.o.ds forsook; Who to poor Judah worlds of nations brings, There rages, utters vain and mighty things.

Some dream of triumphs, and exalted names, Some of dear gold, and some of beauteous dames; Whilst in the midst of their huge sleepy boast, An angel scatters death through all the host.

The affrighted tyrant back to Babel hies, There meets an end far worse than that he flies.

Here Hezekiah's life is almost done!

So good, and yet, alas! so short 'tis spun.

The end of the line was ravelled, weak, and old; Time must go back, and afford better hold, To tie a new thread to it of fifteen years.

'Tis done; the almighty power of prayer and tears!

Backward the sun, an unknown motion, went; The stars gazed on, and wondered what he meant.

Mana.s.ses next (forgetful man!) begins, Enslaved and sold to Ashur by his sins; Till by the rod of learned Misery taught, Home to his G.o.d and country both he's brought.

It taught not Ammon, nor his hardness brake, He's made the example he refused to take.

Yet from this root a goodly scion springs, Josiah! best of men, as well as kings.

Down went the calves, with all their gold and cost; The priests then truly grieved, Osiris lost.

These mad Egyptian rites till now remained; Fools! they their worser thraldom still retained!

In his own fires Moloch to ashes fell, And no more flames must have besides his h.e.l.l.

Like end Astartes' horned image found, And Baal's spired stone to dust was ground.

No more were men in female habit seen, Or they in men's, by the lewd Syrian queen; No l.u.s.tful maids at Benos' temple sit, And with their body's shame their marriage get.

The double Dagon neither nature saves, Nor flies she back to the Erythraean waves.

The travelling sun sees gladly from on high His chariots burn, and Nergal quenched lie.

The King's impartial anger lights on all, From fly-blown Accaron to the thundering Baal.

Here David's joy unruly grows and bold, Nor could sleep's silken chain its violence hold, Had not the angel, to seal fast his eyes, The humours stirred, and bid more mists arise; When straight a chariot hurries swift away, And in it good Josiah bleeding lay: One hand's held up, one stops the wound; in vain They both are used. Alas! he's slain, he's slain.

Jehoias and Jehoiakim next appear; Both urge that vengeance which before was near.

He in Egyptian fetters captive dies, This by more courteous Anger murdered lies.

His son and brother next to bonds sustain, Israel's now solemn and imperial chain.

Here's the last scene of this proud city's state; All ills are met, tied in one knot of Fate.

Their endless slavery in this trial lay; Great G.o.d had heaped up ages in one day: Strong works around the walls the Chaldees build, The town with grief and dreadful business filled: To their carved G.o.ds the frantic women pray, G.o.ds which as near their ruin were as they: At last in rushes the prevailing foe, Does all the mischief of proud conquest show.

The wondering babes from mothers' b.r.e.a.s.t.s are rent, And suffer ills they neither feared nor meant.

No silver reverence guards the stooping age, No rule or method ties their boundless rage.

The glorious temple s.h.i.+nes in flames all o'er, Yet not so bright as in its gold before.

Nothing but fire or slaughter meets the eyes; Nothing the ear but groans and dismal cries.

The walls and towers are levelled with the ground, And scarce aught now of that vast city's found, But shards and rubbish, which weak signs might keep, Of forepast glory, and bid travellers weep.

Thus did triumphant a.s.sur homewards pa.s.s, And thus Jerus'lem left, Jerusalem that was!

Thus Zedechia saw, and this not all; Before his face his friends and children fall, The sport of insolent victors: this he views, A king and father once: ill Fate could use His eyes no more to do their master spite; All to be seen she took, and next his sight.

Thus a long death in prison he outwears, Bereft of grief's last solace, even his tears.

Then Jeconiah's son did foremost come, And he who brought the captived nation home; A row of Worthies in long order pa.s.sed O'er the short stage; of all old Joseph last.

Fair angels pa.s.sed by next in seemly bands, All gilt, with gilded baskets in their hands.

Some as they went the blue-eyed violets strew, Some spotless lilies in loose order threw.

Some did the way with full-blown roses spread, Their smell divine, and colour strangely red; Not such as our dull gardens proudly wear, Whom weather's taint, and wind's rude kisses tear.

Such, I believe, was the first rose's hue, Which, at G.o.d's word, in beauteous Eden grew; Queen of the flowers, which made that orchard gay, The morning-blushes of the Spring's new day.

With sober pace an heavenly maid walks in, Her looks all fair, no sign of native sin Through her whole body writ; immoderate grace Spoke things far more than human in her face: It casts a dusky gloom o'er all the flowers, And with full beams their mingled light devours.

An angel straight broke from a s.h.i.+ning cloud, And pressed his wings, and with much reverence bowed; Again he bowed, and grave approach he made, And thus his sacred message sweetly said:

'Hail! full of grace! thee the whole world shall call Above all bless'd; thee, who shall bless them all.

Thy virgin womb in wondrous sort shall shroud Jesus the G.o.d; (and then again he bowed) Conception the great Spirit shall breathe on thee: Hail thou! who must G.o.d's wife, G.o.d's mother be.'

With that his seeming form to heaven he reared, (She low obeisance made) and disappeared.

Lo! a new star three Eastern sages see; (For why should only earth a gainer be?) They saw this Phosphor's infant light, and knew It bravely ushered in a sun as new; They hasted all this rising sun t' adore; With them rich myrrh, and early spices, bore.

Wise men! no fitter gift your zeal could bring; You'll in a noisome stable find your king.

Anon a thousand devils run roaring in; Some with a dreadful smile deform'dly grin; Some stamp their cloven paws, some frown, and tear The gaping snakes from their black-knotted hair; As if all grief, and all the rage of h.e.l.l Were doubled now, or that just now they fell: But when the dreaded maid they entering saw, All fled with trembling fear and silent awe: In her chaste arms the Eternal Infant lies, The Almighty Voice changed into feeble cries.

Heaven contained virgins oft, and will do more; Never did virgin contain Heaven before.

Angels peep round to view this mystic thing, And halleluiah round, all halleluiah sing.

No longer could good David quiet bear The unwieldy pleasure which o'erflowed him here: It broke the fetter, and burst ope his eye; Away the timorous Forms together fly.

Fixed with amaze he stood, and time must take, To learn if yet he were at last awake.

Sometimes he thinks that Heaven this vision sent, And ordered all the pageants as they went: Sometimes that only 'twas wild Fancy's play, The loose and scattered relics of the day.

When Gabriel (no bless'd sp'rit more kind or fair) Bodies and clothes himself with thickened air; All like a comely youth in life's fresh bloom, Rare workmans.h.i.+p, and wrought by heavenly loom!

He took for skin a cloud most soft and bright That e'er the mid-day sun pierced through with light; Upon his cheeks a lively blush he spread, Washed from the morning beauty's deepest red; A harmless flaming meteor shone for hair, And fell adown his shoulders with loose care: He cuts out a silk mantle from the skies.

Where the most sprightly azure please the eyes; This he with starry vapours spangles all, Took in their prime ere they grow ripe, and fall: Of a new rainbow, ere it fret or fade, The choicest piece took out, a scarf is made; Small streaming clouds he does for wings display, Not virtuous lovers' sighs more soft than they; These he gilds o'er with the sun's richest rays, Caught gliding o'er pure streams on which he plays.

Thus dressed, the joyful Gabriel posts away, And carries with him his own glorious day Through the thick woods; the gloomy shades a while Put on fresh, looks, and wonder why they smile; The trembling serpents close and silent lie; The birds obscene far from his pa.s.sage fly; A sudden spring waits on him as he goes, Sudden as that which by creation rose.

Thus he appears to David; at first sight All earth-bred fears and sorrows take their flight: In rushes joy divine, and hope, and rest; A sacred calm s.h.i.+nes through his peaceful breast.

'Hail, man belov'd! from highest heaven,' said he.

'My mighty Master sends thee health by me.

The things thou saw'st are full of truth and light, Shaped in the gla.s.s of the divine foresight.

Even now old Time is harnessing the Years To go in order thus: hence, empty fears!

Thy fate's all white; from thy bless'd seed shall spring The promised s.h.i.+lo, the great mystic King.

Round the whole earth his dreaded Name shall sound.

And reach to worlds that must not yet be found: The Southern clime him her sole Lord shall style, Him all the North, even Albion's stubborn isle.

My fellow-servant, credit what I tell.'

Straight into shapeless air unseen he fell.

LIFE.

'NASCENTES MORIMUR.'--_Manil_.

1 We're ill by these grammarians used: We are abused by words, grossly abused; From the maternal tomb To the grave's fruitful womb We call here Life; but Life's a name That nothing here can truly claim: This wretched inn, where we scarce stay to bait, We call our dwelling-place; We call one step a race: But angels in their full-enlightened state, Angels who live, and know what 'tis to be, Who all the nonsense of our language see, Who speak things, and our words their ill-drawn picture scorn.

When we by a foolish figure say, Behold an old man dead! then they Speak properly, and cry, Behold a man-child born!

2 My eyes are opened, and I see Through the transparent fallacy: Because we seem wisely to talk Like men of business, and for business walk From place to place, And mighty voyages we take, And mighty journeys seem to make O'er sea and land, the little point that has no s.p.a.ce; Because we fight, and battles gain, Some captives call, and say the rest are slain; Because we heap up yellow earth, and so Rich, valiant, wise, and virtuous seem to grow; Because we draw a long n.o.bility From hieroglyphic proofs of heraldry, And impudently talk of a posterity; And, like Egyptian chroniclers, Who write of twenty thousand years, With maravedies make the account, That single time might to a sum amount; We grow at last by custom to believe That really we live; Whilst all these shadows that for things we take, Are but the empty dreams which in death's sleep we make.

3 But these fantastic errors of our dream Lead us to solid wrong; We pray G.o.d our friends' torments to prolong.

And wish uncharitably for them To be as long a-dying as Methusalem.

The ripened soul longs from his prison to come, But we would seal and sew up, if we could, the womb.

We seek to close and plaster up by art The cracks and breaches of the extended sh.e.l.l, And in that narrow cell Would rudely force to dwell The n.o.ble, vigorous bird already winged to part.

Specimens with Memoirs of the Less-known British Poets Part 62

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Specimens with Memoirs of the Less-known British Poets Part 62 summary

You're reading Specimens with Memoirs of the Less-known British Poets Part 62. This novel has been translated by Updating. Author: George Gilfillan already has 626 views.

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