Others, self-kindled, as they whirl'd and turn'd Without a guide, Burst into flames, and rushing as they burn'd With range more wide, Like fire-ships that some stately fleet surprise, Spread havoc thro' the constellated skies. While stars kept falling from their spheres-as tho' The heavens wept fire, Earth was a raging hell of war and woe Most deep and dire, Virtue was vice-vice virtue-all was strife, Brute force was law-justice th' assassin's knife. From that fell scene my space-commanding eye Glad to withdraw, I pierced th' empyrean palace of the sky And shudd'ring saw A vacant throne-a sun's extinguish'd sphere, All else a void-dark, desolate, and drear. "What mean," I cried, "these sights unparallel'd, These scenes of fear?" When lo! a voice replied, and Nature held Her breath to hear, 66 Mortal, the scroll before thine eyes unfurl'd, Displays a soul eclipse-an atheist world." I woke my dream was o'er! What ecstacy It was to know That God was guide and guardian of the sky, That man below Deserved the love I felt I could not speak The thrilling joy, whose tears were on my cheek! LACHRYMOSE WRITERS. YE human screech-owls, who delight To herald woe-whose day is night, Whose mental food is misery and moans, If ye must needs uphold the pall, And walk at Pleasure's funeral, Be Mutes-and publish not your cries and groans. Near a menagerie to dwell, Annoy'd by ceaseless groan and yell, Is sad, altho' we cannot blame the brutes; Whose study is a Caravan, Whence the caged monster ever howls and hoots. Ye say that Earth's a charnel-life Incessant wretchedness and strife That all is doom below, and wrath above, The sun and moon sepulchral lamps, The sky a vault, whose baleful damps Soon blight and moulder all that live and love. Man, as your diatribes aver, Only makes reason minister To deeds irrational and schemes perverse; Human in name, he proves in all His acts a hateful animal, And woman (monstrous calumny) is worse.. This earth, whose walls are stony gloom, Whose roof rains tears, whose floor 's a tomb With its chain-rattling beach and lashing waves, Is, ye maintain, a fitting jail Where felon man the woes may wail, From which no prudence guards, no mercy saves. E'en were it true, this lachrymose List of imaginary woes, Why from our sympathy extort more tears? Why blazon grief-why make the Press Groan with repinings and distress, Why knell despair for ever in our ears? Ungrateful and calumnious crew, Whose plaints, as impious as untrue, From morbid intellects derive their birth; Away! begone to mope and moan, And weep in some asylum lone, Where ye may rail unheard at heaven and earth. Earth! on whose stage in pomp array'd Life's joyous interlude is play'd, Earth! with thy pageants ever new and bright, Thy woods and waters, hills and dales, How dead must be the soul that fails To see and bless thy beauties infinite! |