Yes! even I was in Arcadia born,
And, in mine infant
ears,
A vow of rapture was by Nature sworn;-
Yes! even I was in Arcadia born,
And yet my short spring
gave me only-tears!
Once blooms, and only once, life’s
youthful May;
For me its bloom hath
gone.
The silent God-O brethren,
weep to-day-
The silent God hath quenched my
torch’s ray,
And the vain dream hath
flown.
Upon thy darksome bridge, Eternity,
I stand e’en now,
dread thought!
Take, then, these joy-credentials
back from me!
Unopened I return them now to thee,
Of happiness, alas,
know naught!
Before Thy throne my mournful cries
I vent,
Thou Judge, concealed
from view!
To yonder star a joyous saying went
With judgment’s scales to
rule us thou art sent,
And call’st thyself
Requiter, too!
Here,-say they,-terrors
on the bad alight,
And joys to greet the
virtuous spring.
The bosom’s windings thou’lt
expose to sight,
Riddle of Providence wilt solve
aright,
And reckon with the
suffering!
Here to the exile be a home outspread,
Here end the meek man’s
thorny path of strife!
A godlike child, whose name was
Truth, they said,
Known but to few, from whom the
many fled,
Restrained the ardent
bridle of my life.
“It shall be thine another
life to live,-
Thy youth to me surrender!
To thee this surety only can I give”-
I took the surety in that life to
live;
And gave to her each
youthful joy so tender.
“Give me the woman precious
to thy heart,
Give up to me thy Laura!
Beyond the grave will usury pay
the smart.”-
I wept aloud, and from my bleeding
heart
With resignation tore
her.
“The obligation’s drawn
upon the dead!”
Thus laughed the world
in scorn;
“The lying one, in league
with despots dread,
For truth, a phantom palmed on thee
instead,
Thou’lt be no
more, when once this dream has gone!”
Shamelessly scoffed the mockers’
serpent-band
“A dream that
but prescription can admit
Dost dread? Where now thy God’s
protecting hand,
(The sick world’s Saviour
with such cunning planned),
Borrowed by human need
of human wit?”
“What future is’t that
graves to us reveal?
What the eternity of
thy discourse?
Honored because dark veils its form
conceal,
The giant-shadows of the awe we
feel,
Viewed in the hollow
mirror of remorse!”
“An image false of shapes
of living mould,
(Time’s very mummy,
she!)
Whom only Hope’s sweet balm
hath power to hold
Within the chambers of the grave
so cold,-
Thy fever calls this
immortality!”
“For empty hopes,-corruption
gives the lie-
Didst thou exchange
what thou hadst surely done?
Six thousand years sped death in
silence by,-
His corpse from out the grave e’er
mounted high,
That mention made of
the Requiting One?”
I saw time fly to reach thy distant
shore,
I saw fair Nature lie
A shrivelled corpse behind him evermore,-
No dead from out the grave then
sought to soar
Yet in that Oath divine
still trusted I.
My ev’ry joy to thee I’ve
sacrificed,
I throw me now before
thy judgment-throne;
The many’s scorn with boldness
I’ve despised,-
Only-thy gifts by me
were ever prized,-
I ask my wages now,
Requiting One!
“With equal love I love each
child of mine!”
A genius hid from sight
exclaimed.
“Two flowers,” he cried,
“ye mortals, mark the sign,-
Two flowers to greet the Searcher
wise entwine,-
Hope and Enjoyment they
are named.”
“Who of these flowers plucks
one, let him ne’er yearn
To touch the other sister’s
bloom.
Let him enjoy, who has no faith;
eterne
As earth, this truth!-Abstain,
who faith can learn!
The world’s long
story is the world’s own doom.”
“Hope thou hast felt,-thy
wages, then, are paid;
Thy faith ’twas
formed the rapture pledged to thee.
Thou might’st have of the
wise inquiry made,-
The minutes thou neglectest, as
they fade,
Are given back by no
eternity!”