Drink up the spirit, and the dim regards
Self centre. Lo, they vanish! or acquire
New names, new features,-by supernal grace
Enrob'd with light, and naturalized in Heaven.
As when a Shepherd on a vernal morn,
Thro' some thick fog creeps tim❜rous with slow foot,
Darkling with earnest eyes he traces out
Th' immediate road, all else of fairest kind
Hid or deform'd. But lo! the burning sun!
Tonch'd by th' enchantment of that sudden beam,
Straight the black vapour melteth, and in globes
Of dewy glitter gems each plant and tree;
On every leaf, on every blade it hangs;
Dance glad the new-born intermingling rays,
And wide around the landscape streams with glory!
There is one Mind, one omnipresent Mind,
Omnific. His most holy name is Love.
Truth of subliming import! with the which
Who feeds and saturates his constant soul,
He from his small particular orbit flies,
With blest outstarting! From himself he flies,
Stands in the sun, and with no partial gaze
Views all creation; and he loves it all,
And blesses it, and calls it very good!
This is indeed to dwell with the Most High!
The cherubs, and the trembling seraphim
Can press no nearer to th' Almighty's throne.
But that we roam unconscious, or with hearts
Unfeeling of our Universal Sire,
Haply for this, some younger angel now
Looks down on human nature: and, behold!
A sea of blood bestrew'd with wrecks, where mad
Embattling interests on each other rush
Our noontide majesty, to know ourselves
Parts and proportions of one wond'rous whole!
This fraternizes man, this constitutes
Our charities and bearings. But 'tis God
Diffus'd through all, that doth make all one who.e:
This the worst superstition, him except
Aught to desire, Supreme reality!
The plenitude and permanence of bliss!
O fiends of superstition! not that oft
The erring priest hath stain'd with brother's blood
Your grisly idols, not for this may wrath
Thunder against you from the Holy One!
But o'er some plain that steameth to the sun,
Peopled with death; or, where more hideous trade,
Loud laughing, packs his bales of human anguish;
I will raise up a mourning,
ye fiends!
And curse your spells, that film the eye of faith;
Hiding the present God, whose presence lost,
The moral world's cohesion, we become
An anarchy of spirits, toy-bewitch'd,
Made blind by lusts, disherited of soul,
No common centre man, no common sire
Knoweth! A sordid solitary thing,
'Mid countless brethren, with a lonely heart,
Thro' courts and cities the smooth savage roams,
Feeling himself, his own low self the whole;
When he by sacred sympathy might make
The whole one self! self that no alien knows!
Self, far diffus'd as Fancy's wing can travel!
Self, spreading still oblivious of its own,
Yet all of all possessing! this is faith!
This the Messiah's destin'd victory!
But first offences needs must come! Even now
(Black Hell laughs horrible—to hear the scoff!)
Thee to defend, meek Galilæan! Thee
And thy mild laws of love unutterable
Mistrust and Enmity have burst the bands
Of social peace; and list'ning Treachery lurks,
With pious fraud to snare a brother's life;
And childless widows o'er the groaning land
Wail numberless; and orphans weep for bread;
Thee to defend, dear Saviour of mankind!
Thee, Lamb of God! Thee, blameless Prince of Peace!
From all sides rush the thirsty brood of war;
Austria, and that foul woman of the North,
The lustful murd'ress of her wedded lord:
And he, connatural mind! whom (in their songs,
So bards of elder time had haply feigned ;)
Some fury fondled in her hate to man,
Bidding her serpent hair in mazy surge
Lick his young face, and at his mouth imbreathe
Horrible sympathy! and leagued with these
Each petty German princeling, nurs'd in gore!
Soul-harden'd barterers of human blood!
Death's prime slave merchants! scorpion whips cf fate! Nor least in savagery of holy zeal,
Apt for the yoke, the race degenerate,
Whom Britain erst had blush'd to call her sons!
Thee to defend, the Moloch priest prefers
The prayer of hate, and bellows to the herd;
That Deity, accomplice Deity,
In the fierce jealousy of waken'd wrath
Will go forth with our armies and our fleets
To scatter the red ruin on their foes!
O blasphemy! to mingle fiendish deeds
With blessedness!
Lord of unsleeping Love,
From everlasting Thou! we shall not die.
These, even these, in mercy didst thou form,
Teachers of good through evil, by brief wrong
Making truth lovely, and her future might
Maguetic o'er the fix'd untrembling heart.
OH! Thou didst die for me, thou Son of God!
By thee the throbbing fesh of man was worn;
Thy naked feet the thorns of sorrow trod,
And tempests beat thy houseless head forlorn.
Thou, that wert wont to stand
Alone, on God's right hand,
Before the ages were, the Eternal, eldest born.
Thy birthright in the world was pain and grief,
Thy love's return ingratitude and hate;
The limbs thou healedst brought thee no relief,
The eyes thou openedst calmly view'd thy fate:
Thou that wert wont to dwell
In peace, tongue cannot tell,
No heart conceive the bliss of thy celestial state.
They dragged thee to the Roman's solemn ball,
Where the proud judge in purple splendour sate;
Thou stood'st a meek and patient criminal,
Thy doom of death from human lips to wait;
Whose throne shall be the world
With all mankind to hear their everlasting fate.
Thou wert alone in that fierce multitude,
When Crucify him!' yelled the general shout:
No hand to guard thee 'mid those insults rude,
Nor lips to bless thee in that frantic rout;
Whose lightest whisper'd word
The Seraphim had heard,
And adamantine arms from all the heavens broke out.
They bound thy temples with the twisted thorn,
Thy bruised feet went languid on with pain;
The blood from all thy flesh with scourges torn,
Deepen'd thy robe of mockery's crimson grain;
Whose native vesture bright
Was the unapproached light,
The sandal of whose foot the rapid hurricane.
They smote thy cheek with many a ruthless palm,
With the cold spear thy shuddering side they pierc'd;
The draught of bitterest gall was all the balm
They gave, t' enhance thy unslaked, burning thirst:
Thou, at whose words of peace
Did pain and anguish cease,
And the long buried dead their bonds of slumber burst.
Low bow'd thy head convulsed, and droop'd in death,
Thy voice sent forth a sad and wailing cry;
Slow struggled from thy breast the parting breath,
And every limb was wrung with agony.
That head, whose veil-less blaze
Fill'd angels with amaze,
When at that voice sprang forth the rolling suns on high.
And thou wert laid within the narrow tomb, [bound;
Thy clay-cold limbs with shrouding grave-clothes
The sealed stone confirmed thy mortal doom,
Lone watchman walked thy desert burial ground,
Whom heaven could not contain,
Nor th' immeasurable plain
Of vast Infinity enclose or circle round.
For us, for us, thou didst endure the pain,
And thy meek spirit bow'd itself to shame,
To wash our souls from sin's infecting stain,
T'avert the Father's wrathful vengeance flame;
Thou, that couldst nothing win
By saving worlds from sin,
Nor aught of glory add to thy all glorious name.
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