JUVENILIA

QUEEN MAB

A PHILOSOPHICAL POEM, WITH NOTES

TO HARRIET * * * * *

               WHOSE is the love that gleaming through the world,

               Wards off the poisonous arrow of its scorn?

                 Whose is the warm and partial praise,

                 Virtue’s most sweet reward?

5

5             Beneath whose looks did my reviving soul

               Riper in truth and virtuous daring grow?

                 Whose eyes have I gazed fondly on,

                 And loved mankind the more?

               HARRIET! on thine:—thou wert my purer mind;

10

10           Thou wert the inspiration of my song;

                 Thine are these early wilding flowers,

                 Though garlanded by me.

               Then press into thy breast this pledge of love;

               And know, though time may change and years may roll,

15

15             Each floweret gathered in my heart

                 It consecrates to thine.

QUEEN MAB

I

                    HOW wonderful is Death,

                    Death and his brother Sleep!

                 One, pale as yonder waning moon

                    With lips of lurid blue;

5

5               The other, rosy as the morn

                    When throned on ocean’s wave

                    It blushes o’er the world:

                 Yet both so passing wonderful!

                    Hath then the gloomy Power

10

10           Whose reign is in the tainted sepulchres

                    Seized on her sinless soul?

                    Must then that peerless form

               Which love and admiration cannot view

               Without a beating heart, those azure veins

15

15           Which steal like streams along a field of snow,

                 That lovely outline, which is fair

                    As breathing marble, perish?

                    Must putrefaction’s breath

                 Leave nothing of this heavenly sight

                    But loathsomeness and ruin?

                 Spare nothing but a gloomy theme,

               On which the lightest heart might moralize?

                 Or is it only a sweet slumber

                    Stealing o’er sensation,

25

25             Which the breath of roseate morning

                    Chaseth into darkness?

                    Will Ianthe wake again,

                 And give that faithful bosom joy

                 Whose sleepless spirit waits to catch

30

30             Light, life and rapture from her smile?

                    Yes! she will wake again,

               Although her glowing limbs are motionless,

                    And silent those sweet lips,

                    Once breathing eloquence,

35

35             That might have soothed a tiger’s rage,

               Or thawed the cold heart of a conqueror.

                    Her dewy eyes are closed,

                 And on their lids, whose texture fine

                 Scarce hides the dark blue orbs beneath,

40

40                The baby Sleep is pillowed:

                    Her golden tresses shade

                    The bosom’s stainless pride,

                 Curling like tendrils of the para’ site

                    Around a marble column.

                    Hark! whence that rushing sound?

                    ’Tis like the wondrous strain

                 That round a lonely ruin swells,

                 Which, wandering on the echoing shore,

                    The enthusiast hears at evening:

50

50             ’Tis softer than the west wind’s sigh:

                 ’Tis wilder than the unmeasured notes

                 Of that strange lyre whose strings

                 The genii of the breezes sweep:

                    Those lines of rainbow light

55

55             Are like the moonbeams when they fall

               Through some cathedral window, but the tints

                    Are such as may not find

                    Comparison on earth.

               Behold the chariot of the Fairy Queen!

60

60           Celestial coursers paw the unyielding air;

               Their filmy pennons at her word they furl,

               And stop obedient to the reins of light:

                 These the Queen of Spells drew in,

                 She spread a charm around the spot,

65

65           And leaning graceful from the aethereal car,

                 Long did she gaze, and silently,

                    Upon the slumbering maid.

               Oh! not the visioned poet in his dreams,

               When silvery clouds float through the ’wildered brain,

70

70           When every sight of lovely, wild and grand

                 Astonishes, enraptures, elevates,

                    When fancy at a glance combines

                    The wondrous and the beautiful,—

                 So bright, so fair, so wild a shape

75

75                Hath ever yet beheld,

               As that which reined the coursers of the air,

                 And poured the magic of her gaze

                    Upon the maiden’s sleep.

                    The broad and yellow moon

80

80                Shone dimly through her form—

                 That form of faultless symmetry;

                 The pearly and pellucid car

                    Moved not the moonlight’s line:

                    ’Twas not an earthly pageant:

85

85             Those who had looked upon the sight,

                    Passing al human glory,

                    Saw not the yellow moon,

                    Saw not the mortal scene,

                    Heard not the night-wind’s rush,

90

90                Heard not an earthly sound,

                    Saw but the fairy pageant,

                    Heard but the heavenly strains

                    That filled the lonely dwelling,

                 The Fairy’s frame was slight, yon fibrous cloud,

95

95             That catches but the palest tinge of even,

                 And which the straining eye can hardly seize

                 When melting into eastern twilight’s shadow,

                 Were scarce so thin, so slight; but the fair star

                 That gems the glittering coronet of morn

100

100           Sheds not a light so mild, so powerful,

                 As that which, bursting from the Fairy’s form,

                 Spread a purpureal halo round the seene,

                    Yet with an undulating motion,

                    Swayed to her outline gracefully.

105

105                 From her celestial car

                       The Fairy Queen descended.

                       And thrce she waved her wand

                    Circled with wreaths of amaranth:

                       Her thin and misty form

                       Moved with the moving air,

                       And the clear silver tones,

                       As thus she spoke, were such

115

115           As are unheard by all but gifted ear.

Fairy.

                    ‘Stars! your balmiest influence shed!

                    Elements! your wrath suspend!

                    Sleep, Ocean, in the rocky bounds

                       That circle thy domain!

                 Let not a breath be seen to stir

                 Around yon grass-grown ruin’s height,

                    Let even the restless gossamer

                       Sleep on the moveless air!

                       Soul of Ianthe! thou,

               Judged alone worthy of the envied boon,

               That waits the good and the sincere; that waits

125

125         Those who have struggled, and with resolute will

               Vanquished earth’s pride and meanness, burst the chains,

               The icy chains of custom, and have shone

               The day-stars of their age;—Soul of Ianthe!

                         Awake! arise!’

130

130                   Sudden arose

                       Ianthe’s Soul; it stood

               All beautiful in naked purity,

               The perfect semblance of its bodily frame.

               Instinct with inexpressible beauty and grace,

135

135                 Each stain of earthliness

                 Had passed away, it reassumed

                 Its native dignity, and stood

                       Immortal amid ruin.

                    Upon the couch the body lay

140

140              Wrapped in the depth of slumber:

                 Its features were fixed and meaningless,

                    Yet animal life was there,

                 And every organ yet performed

                 Its natural functions: ’twas a sight

145

145         Of wonder to behold the body and soul.

                 The self-same lineaments, the same

                 Marks of identity were there:

               Yet, oh, how different! One aspires to Heaven,

               Pants for its sempiternal heritage,

               And ever-changing, ever-rising still,

                    Wantons in endless being.

               The other, for a time the unwilling sport

               Of circumstance and passion, struggles on;

               Fleets through its sad duration rapidly:

155

155         Then, like an useless and worn-out machine,

                    Rots, perishes, and passes.

Fairy.

                    ‘Spirit! who hast dived so deep;

                    Spirit! who hast soared so high;

                    Thou the fearless, thou the mild,

160

160           Accept the boon thy worth hath earned,

                       Ascend the car with me.

Spirit.

                 ‘Do I dream? Is this new feeling

                 But a visioned ghost of slumber

                    If indeed I am a soul,

165

165           A free, a disembodied soul,

                         Speak again to me.

Fairy.

               ‘I am the Fairy MAB: to me ’tis given

               The wonders of the human world I to keep:

               The secrets of the immeasurable past,

               In the unfailing consciences of men,

               Those stern, unflattering chroniclers, I find:

               The future, from the causes which arise

               In each event, I gather: not the sting

               Which retributive memory implants

               In the hard bosom of the selfish man;

               Nor that ecstatic and exulting throb

               Which virtue’s votary feels when he sums up

               The thoughts and actions of a well-spent day,

               Are unforeseen, unregistered by me:

180

180         And it is yet permitted me, torend

               The veil of mortal frailty, that the spirit,

               Clothed in its changeless purity, may know

               How soonest to accomplish the great end

               For which it hath its being, and may taste

185

185         That peace, which in the end all life will share.

               This is the meed of virtue; happy Soul,

                    Ascend the car with me!’

                 The chains of earth’s immurement

                    Fell from Ianthe’s spirit;

190

190         They shrank and brake like bandages of straw

                 Beneath a wakened giant’s strength.

                    She knew her glorious change,

                 And felt in apprehension uncontrolled

                    New raptures opening round:

                 Each day-dream of her mortal life,

                 Each frenzied vision of the slumbers

                    That closed each well-spent day,

                    Seemed now to meet reality.

                 The Fairy and the Soul proceeded;

                    The silver clouds disparted;

               And as the car of magic they ascended.

                 Again the speechless music swelled

                 Again the coursers of the air

               Unfurled their azure pennons, and the Queen

205

205              Shaking the beamy reins

                    Bade them pursue their way.

                    The magic car moved on.

                 The night was fair, and countless stars

                 Studded Heaven’s dark blue vault,—

210

210              Just o’er the eastern wave

                 Peeped the first faint smile of morn:–

                    The magic car moved on—

                    From the celestial hoofs

               The atmosphere in flaming sparkles flew,

                    And where the burning wheels

               Eddied above the mountain’s loftiest peak,

                 Was traced a line of lightning.

                 Now it flew far above a rock,

                    The utmost verge of earth,

220

220           The rival of the Andes, whose dark brow

                    Lowered o’er the silver sea.

                 Far, far below the chariot’s path,

                    Calm as a slumbering babe,

                    Tremendous Ocean lay.

                 The mirror of its stillness showed

                    The pale and waning stars,

                    The chariot’s fiery track,

                    And the gray light of morn

                    Tinging those fleecy clouds

230

230              That canopied the dawn.

                 Seemed it, that the chariot’s way

               Lay through the midst of an immense concave,

               Radiant with million constellations, tinged

                    With shades of infinite colour,

235

235              And semicircled with a belt

                    Flashing incessant meteors.

                    The magic car moved on.

                    As they approached their goal

                 The coursers seemed to gather speed;

240

240         The sea no longer was distinguished; earth

                 Appeared a vast and shadowy sphere;

                    The sun’s unclouded orb

                    Rolled through the black concave;

                    Its rays of rapid light

245

245         Parted around the chariot’s swifter course,

                 And fell, like ocean’s feathery spray

                    Dashed from the boiling surge

                    Before a vessel’s prow.

                    The magic car moved on.

                    Earth’s distant orb appeared

               The smallest light that twinkles in the heaven;

                    Whilst round the chariot’s way

                    Innumerable systems rolled,

                    And countless spheres diffused

255

255              An ever-varying glory.

                 It was a sight of wonder: some

                 Were hornèd like the crescent moon;

                 Some shed a mild and silver beam

                 Like Hesperus o’er the western sea;

260

260           Some dashed athwart with trains of flame,

                 Like worlds to death and ruin driven;

               Some shone like suns, and, as the chariot passed,

                    Eclipsed all other light.

                    Spirit of Nature! here!

265

265         In this interminable wilderness

               Of worlds, at whose immensity

                 Even soaring fancy staggers,

                 Here is thy fitting temple.

                    Yet not the lightest leaf

               That quivers to the passing breeze

                    Is less instinct with thee:

                    Yet not the meanest worm

               That lurks in graves and fattens on the dead

                    Less shares thy eternal breath.

275

275                 Spirit of Nature! thou!

                    Imperishable as this scene,

                       Here is thy fitting temple.

II

               IF solitude hath ever led thy steps

                 To the wild Ocean’s echoing shore,

                    And thou hast lingered there,

                    Until the sun’s broad orb

5

5               Seemed resting on the burnished wave,

                    Thou must have marked the lines

                 Of purple gold, that motionless

                    Hung o’er the sinking sphere:

                 Thou must have marked the billowy clouds

                 Edged with intolerable radiancy

                    Towering like rocks of jet

                    Crowned with a diamond wreath.

                    And yet there is a moment,

                    When the sun’s highest point

15

15           Peeps like a star o’er Ocean’s western edge,

               When those far clouds of feathery gold,

                 Shaded with deepest purple, gleam

                 Like islands on a dark blue sea;

               Then has thy fancy soared above the earth,

20

20                And furled its wearied wing

                    Within the Fairy’s fane.

                    Yet not the golden islands

                    Gleaming in yon flood of light,

                       Nor the feathery curtains

25

25                Stretching o’er the sun’s bright couch,

                    Nor the burnished Ocean waves

                       Paving that gorgeous dome,

                 So fair, so wonderful a sight

               As Mab’s aethereal palace could afford.

30

30           Yet likest evening’s vault, that faery Hall!

               As Heaven, low resting on the wave, it spread

                       Its floors of flashing light,

                       Its vast and azure dome,

                       Its fertile golden islands

35

35                   Floating on a silver sea;

               Whilst suns their mingling beamings darted

               Through clouds of circumambient darkness,

                 And pearly battlements around

                 Looked o’er the immense of Heaven.

                    The magic car no longer moved.

                       The Fairy and the Spirit

                       Entered the Hall of Spells:

                         Those golden clouds

                    That rolled in glittering billows

45

45                Beneath the azure canopy

               With the aethereal footsteps trembled not:

                       The light and crimson mists,

               Floating to strains of thrilling melody

                    Through that unearthly dwelling,

               Yielded to every movement of the will.

               Upon their passive swell the Spirit leaned,

               And, for the varied bliss that pressed around,

                 Used not the glorious privilege

                    Of virtue and of wisdom.

55

55                   ‘Spirit!’ the Fairy said,

                 And pointed to the gorgeous dome

                       ‘This is a wondrous sight

                    And mocks all human grandeur;

               But, were it virtue’s only meed, to dwell

60

60           In a celestial palace, all resigned

               To pleasurable impulses, immured

               Within the prison of itself, the will

               Of changeless Nature would be unfulfilled.

               Learn to make others happy. Spirit, come!

65

65           This is thine high reward:—the past shall rise;

               Thou shalt behold the present; I will teach

                       The secrets of the future.’

                       The Fairy and the Spirit

               Approached the overhanging battlement.—

                    Below lay stretched the universe!

                    There, far as the remotest line

                    That bounds imagination’s flight,

                       Countless and unending orbs

                    In mazy motion intermingled,

                    Yet still fulfilled immutably

                         Eternal Nature’s law.

                         Above, below, around,

                         The circling systems formed

                       A wilderness of harmony;

                       Each with undeviating aim,

               In eloquent silence, through the depths of space

                       Pursued its wondrous way.

                       There was a little light

               That twinkled in the misty distance:

85

85                   None but a spirit’s eye

                       Might ken that rolling orb;

                       None but a spirit’s eye

                       And in no other place

               But that celestial dwelling, might behold

90

90           Each action of this earth’s in habitants.

                       But matter, space and time

               In those aëreal mansions cease to act;

               And all-prevailing wisdom, when it reaps

               The harvest of its excellence, o’er-bounds

95

95           Those obstacles, of which an earthly soul

                    Fears to attempt the conquest.

                 The Fairy pointed to the earth.

                 The Spirit’s intellectual eye

                 Its kindred beings recognized.

100

100         The thronging thousands, to a passing view,

                 Seemed like an ant-hill’s citizens.

                    How wonderful! that even

               The passions, prejudices, interests,

               That sway the meanest being, the weak touch

                       That moves the finest nerve,

                       And in one human brain

               Causes the faintest thought, becomes a link

                    In the great chain of Nature.

                       ‘Behold,’ the Fairy cried,

110

110           ‘Palmyra’s ruined palaces!—

                       Behold! where grandeur frowned;

                       Behold! where pleasure smiled;

                 What now remains?—the memory

                       Of senselessness and shame—

115

115                 What is immortal there?

                       Nothing—it stands to tell

                       A melancholy tale, to give

                       An awful warning: soon

                 Oblivion will steal silently

120

120                 The remnant of its fame.

                       Monarchs and conquerors there

                 Proud o’er prostrate millions trod—

                 The earthquakes of the human race;

                 Like them, forgotten when the ruin

125

125                 That marks their shock is past.

                       ‘Beside the eternal Nile,

                       The Pyramids have risen.

                 Nile shall pursue his changeless way:

                       Those Pyramids shall fall;

130

130           Yea! not a stone shall stand to tell

                    The spot whereon they stood!

                 Their very site shall be for gotten,

                       As is their builder’s name!

                       ‘Behold yon sterile spot;

135

135           Where now the wandering Arab’s tent

                       Flaps in the desert-blast.

                 There once old Salem’s haughty fane

               Reared high to Heaven its thousand golden domes,

                 And in the blushing face of day

                    Exposed its shameful glory.

               Oh! many a widow, many an orphan cursed

               The building of that fane; and many a father,

               Worn out with toil and slavery, implored

               The poor man’s God to speed it from the earth,

145

145         And spare his children the detested task

               Of piling stone on stone, and poisoning

                       The choicest days of life,

                       To soothe a dotard’s vanity.

               There an inhuman and uncultured race

150

150         Howled hideous praises to their Demon-God;

               They rushed to war, tore from the mother’s womb

               The unborn child,—old age and infancy,

               Promiscuous perished; their victorious arms

               Left not a soul to breathe. Oh! they were fiends:

155

155         But what was he who taught them that the God

               Of nature and benevolence hath given

               A special sanction to the trade of blood?

               His name and theirs are fading, and the tales

               Of this barbarian nation, which imposture

160

160         Recites till terror credits, are pursuing

                 Itself into forgetfulness.

                 ‘Where Athens, Rome, and Sparta stood,

                 There is a moral desert now:

                 The mean and miserable huts,

165

165           The yet more wretched palaces,

                 Contrasted with those ancient fanes,

                 Now crumbling to oblivion;

                 The long and lonely colonnades,

                 Through which the ghost of Freedom stalks,

                       Seem like a well-known tune

               Which in some dear scene we have loved to hear,

                       Remembered now in sadness.

                       But, oh! how much more changed,

                       How gloomier is the contrast

175

175                 Of human nature there!

               Where Socrates expired, a tyrant’s slave.

               A coward and a fool, spreads death around—

                       Then, shuddering, meets his own.

               Where Cicero and Antoninus lived

180

180           A cowled and hypocritical monk

                       Prays, curses and deceives.

                       ‘Spirit, ten thousand years

                       Have scarcely passed away,

               Since, in the waste where now the savage drinks

185

185         His enemy’s blood, and aping Europe’s sons,

                    Wakes the unholy song of war,

                    Arose a stately city,

               Metropolis of the western continent:

                 There, now, the mossy column-stone

               Indented by Time’s unrelaxing grasp,

                       Which once appeared to brave

                       All, save its country’s ruin;

                       There the wide forest scene,

               Rude in the uncultivated loveliness

                       Of gardens long run wild,

               Seems, to the unwilling sojourner, whose steps

                 Chance in that desert has delayed,

               Thus to have stood since earth was what it is.

                 Yet once it was the busiest haunt,

200

200         Whither, as to a common centre, flocked

                 Strangers, and ships, and merchandise:

                    Once peace and freedom blessed

                    The cultivated plain:

                    But wealth, that curse of man,

               Blighted the bud of its prosperity:

               Virtue and wisdom, truth and liberty,

               Fled, to return not, until man shall know

                 That they alone can give the bliss

                       Worthy a soul that claims

210

210           Its kindred with eternity.

                    ‘There’s not one atom of yon earth

                       But once was living man;

                    Nor the minutest drop of rain,

                    That hangeth in its thinnest cloud,

                       But flowed in human veins:

                       And from the burning plains

                       Where Libyan monsters yell,

                       From the most gloomy glens

                       Of Greenland’s sunless clime,

                       To where the golden fields

                       Of fertile England spread

                       Their harvest to the day,

                       Thou canst not find one spot

                       Whereon no city stood.

                       ‘How strange is human pride!

               I tell thee that those living things,

               To whom the fragile blade of grass,

                       That springeth in the morn

                       And perisheth ere noon,

230

230                 Is an unbounded world;

                 I tell thee that those viewless beings,

               Whose mansion is the smallest particle

                 Of the impassive atmosphere,

                    Think, feel and live like man;

               That their affections and antipathies,

                    Like his, produce the laws

                    Ruling their moral state;

                    And the minutest throb

                 That through their frame diffuses

                    The slightest, faintest motion,

                    Is fixed and indispensable

                    As the majestic laws

                    That rule yon rolling orbs.’

                 The Fairy paused. The Spirit,

245

245         In ecstasy of admiration, felt

               All knowledge of the past revived; the events

                       Of old and wondrous times,

               Which dim tradition interruptedly

               Teaches the credulous vulgar, were unfolded

                 In just perspective to the view;

                 Yet dim from their infinitude.

                       The Spirit seemed to stand

               High on an isolated pinnacle;

               The flood of ages combating below,

               The depth of the unbounded universe

                       Above, and all around

                 Nature’s unchanging harmony.

III

                    ‘FAIRY!’ the Spirit said,

                    And on the Queen of Spells

                    Fixed her aethereal eyes,

                    ‘I thank thee. Thou hast given

5

5             A boon which I will not resign, and taught

               A lesson not to be unlearned. I know

               The past, and thence I will essay to glean

               A warning for the future, so that man

               May profit by his errors, and derive

10

10                Experience from his folly:

               For, when the power of imparting joy

               Is equal to the will, the human soul

                    Requires no other Heaven.’

Mab.

                    ‘Turn thee, surpassing Spirit!

                    Much yet remains unscanned.

                    Thou knowest how great is man,

                    Thou knowest his imbecility:

                    Yet learn thou what he is:

                    Yet learn the lofty destiny

                    Which restless time prepares

                    For every living soul.

               ‘Behold a gorgeous palace, that, amid

               Yon populous city rears its thousand towers

               And seems itself a city. Gloomy troops

               Of sentinels, in stern and silent ranks,

               Encompass it around: the dweller there

               Cannot be free and happy; hearest thou not

               The curses of the fatherless, the groans

               Of those who have no friend? He passes on:

               The King, the wearer of a gilded chain

               That binds his soul to abjectness, the fool

               Whom courtiers nickname monarch, whilst a slave

               Even to the basest appetites—that man

               Heeds not the shriek of penury; he smiles

35

35           At the deep curses which the destitute

               Mutter in secret, and a sullen joy

               Pervades his bloodless heart when thousands groan

               But for those morsels which his wantonness

               Wastes in unjoyous revelry, to save

40

40           All that they love from famine: when he hears

               The tale of horror, to some ready-made face

               Of hypocritical assent he turns,

               Smothering the glow of shame, that, spite of him,

               Flushes his bloated cheek.

                                        Now to the meal

45

45           Of silence, grandeur, and excess, he drags

               His palled unwilling appetite. If gold,

               Gleaming around, and numerous viands culled

               From every clime, could force the loathing sense

               To overcome satiety,—if wealth

50

50           The spring it draws from poisons not,—or vice,

               Unfeeling, stubborn vice, converteth not

               Its food to deadliest venom; then that king

               Is happy; and the peasant who I fulfils

               His unforced task, when he returns at even,

               And by the blazing faggot meets again

               Her welcome for whom all his toil is sped,

               Tastes not a sweeter meal.

                                        Behold him now

               Streched on the gorgeous couch; his fevered brain

               Reels dizzily awhile: but ah! too soon

60

60           The slumber of intemperance subsides,

               And conscience, that undying serpent, calls

               Her venomous brood to their nocturnal task.

               Listen! he speaks! oh! mark that frenzied eye—

               Oh! mark that deadly visage.’

King.

                                        ‘No cessation!

65

65           Oh! must this last for ever? Awful Death,

               I wish, yet fear to clasp thee!—Not one moment

               Of dreamless sleep! O dear and blessèd peace!

               Why dost thou shroud thy vestal purity

               In penury and dungeons? wherefore lurkest

70

70           With danger, death, and solitude; yet shunn’st

               The palace I have built thee? Sacred peace!

               Oh visit me but once, but pitying shed

               One drop of balm upon my withered soul.’

The Fairy.

               ‘Vain man! that palace is the virtuous heart,

               And Peace defileth not her snowy robes

               In such a shed as thine. Hark! yet he mutters;

               His slumbers are but varied agonies,

               They prey like scorpions on the springs of life.

               There needeth not the hell that bigots frame

80

80           To punish those who err: earth in itself

               Contains at once the evil and the cure;

               And all-sufficing Nature can chastise

               Those who transgress her law,—she only knows

               How justly to proportion to the fault

               The punishment it merits.

85

                                        Is it strange

86           That this poor wretch should pride him in his woe?

               Take pleasure in his abjectness, and hug

               The scorpion that consumes him? Is it strange

               That, placed on a conspicuous throne of thorns,

90

90           Grasping an iron sceptre, and immured

               Within a splendid prison, whose stern bounds

               Shut him from all that’s good or dear on earth,

               His soul asserts not its humanity?

               That man’s mild nature rises not in war

95

95           Against a king’s employ? No—’tis not strange.

               He, like the vulgar, thinks, feels, acts and lives

               Just as his father did; the unconquered powers

               Of precedent and custom interpose

               Between a king and virtue. Stranger yet,

100

100         To those who know not Nature, nor deduce

               The future from the present, it may seem,

               That not one slave, who suffers from the crimes

               Of this unnatural being; not one wretch,

               Whose children famish, and whose nuptial bed

               Is earth’s unpitying bosom, rears an arm

105

105         To dash him from his throne!

                                        Those gilded flies

               That, basking in the sunshine of a court,

               Fatten on its corruption!—what are they?

               —The drones of the community; they feed

110

110         On the mechanic’s labour: the starved hind

               For them compels the stubborn glebe to yield

               Its unshared harvest; and yon squalid form,

               Leaner than fleshless misery, that wastes

               A sunless life in the unwholesome mine,

               Drags out in labour a protracted death,

               To glut their grandeur; many faint with toil,

               That few may know the cares and woe of sloth.

               ‘Whence, think’st thou, kings and parasites arose?

               Whence that unnatural line of drones, who heap

               Toil and unvanquishable penury

               On those who build their palaces, and bring

               Their daily bread?—From vice, black loathsome vice;

               From rapine, madness, treachery, and wrong;

               From all that ‘genders misery, and makes

125

125         Of earth this thorny wilderness; from lust,

               Revenge, and murder.… And when Reason’s voice,

               Loud as the voice of Nature, shall have waked

               The nations; and mankind perceive that vice

               Is discord, war, and misery; that virtue

130

130         Is peace, and happiness and harmony:

               When man’s maturer nature shall disdain

               The playthings of its childhood;— kingly glare

               Will lose its power to dazzle; its authority

               Will silently pass by; the gorgeous throne

135

135         Shall stand unnoticed in the regal hall,

               Fast falling to decay; whilst falsehood’s trade

               Shall be as hateful and unprofitable

               As that of truth is now.

               Where is the fame

               Which the vainglorious mighty of the earth

140

140         Seek to eternize? Oh! the faintest sound

               From Time’s light footfall, the minutest wave

               That swells the flood of ages, whelms in nothing

               The unsubstantial bubble. Ay! to-day

               Stern is the tyrant’s mandate, red the gaze

145

145         That flashes desolation, strong the arm

               That scatters multitudes. To-morrow comes!

               That mandate is a thunder-peal that died

               In ages past; that gaze, a transient flash

               On which the midnight closed, and on that arm

               The worm has made his meal.

150

                                        The virtuous man,

151         Who, great in his humility, as kings

               Are little in their grandeur; he who leads

               Invincibly a life of resolute good,

               And stands amid the silent dungeon-depths

155

155         More free and fearless than the trembling judge,

               Who, clothed in venal power, vainly strove

               To bind the impassive spirit;— when he falls,

               His mild eye beams benevolence no more:

               Withered the hand outstretched but to relieve;

160

160         Sunk Reason’s simple eloquence, that rolled

               But to appal the guilty. Yes! the grave

               Hath quenched that eye, and Death’s relentless frost

               Withered that arm: but the unfading fame

               Which Virtue hangs upon its votary’s tomb;

165

165         The deathless memory of that man, whom kings

               Call to their mind and tremble; the remembrance

               With which the happy spirit contemplates

               Its well-spent pilgrimage on earth,

               Shall never pass away.

170

170         ‘Nature rejects the monarch, not the man;

               The subject, not the citizen: for kings

               And subjects, mutual foes, forever play

               A losing game into each other’s hands,

               Whose stakes are vice and misery. The man

175

175         Of virtuous soul commands not, nor obeys.

               Power, like a desolating pestilence,

               Pollutes whate’er it touches; and obedience,

               Bane of all genius, virtue, freedom, truth,

               Makes slaves of men, and, of the human frame,

               A mechanized automaton.

180

                                        When Nero,

181         High over flaming Rome, with savage joy

               Lowered like a fiend, drank with enraptured ear

               The shrieks of agonizing death, beheld

               The frightful desolation spread, and felt

               A new-created sense within his soul

               Thrill to the sight, and vibrate to the sound;

               Think’st thou his grandeur had not overcome

               The force of human kindness? and, when Rome,

               With one stern blow, hurled not the tyrant down,

190

190         Crushed not the arm red with her dearest blood,

               Had not submissive abjectness destroyed

               Nature’s suggestions?

                                        Look on yonder earth:

               The golden harvests spring; the unfailing sun

               Sheds light and life; the fruits, the flowers, the trees,

195

195         Arise in due succession; all things speak

               Peace, harmony, and love. The universe,

               In Nature’s silent eloquence, declares

               That all fulfil the works of love and joy—

               All but the outcast, Man. He fabricates

200

200         The sword which stabs his peace; he cherisheth

               The snakes that gnaw his heart; he raiseth up

               The tyrant, whose delight is in his woe,

               Whose sport is in his agony. Yon sun,

               Lights it the great alone? Yon silver beams,

205

205         Sleep they less sweetly on the cottage thatch

               Than on the dome of kings? Is mother Earth

               A step-dame to her numerous sons, who earn

               Her unshared gifts with unremitting toil;

               A mother only to those puling babes

210

210         Who, nursed in ease and luxury, make men

               The playthings of their babyhood, and mar,

               In self-important childishness, that peace

               Which men alone appreciate?

                       ‘Spirit of Nature! no.

215

215         The pure diffusion of thy essence throbs

                 Alike in every human heart.

                       Thou, aye, erectest there

                 Thy throne of power unappealable:

                 Thou art the judge beneath whose nod

220

220           Man’s brief and frail authority

                       Is powerless as the wind

                       That passeth idly by.

                 Thine the tribunal which surpasseth

                    The show of human justice,

225

225                 As God surpasses man.

                       ‘Spirit of Nature; thou

               Life of interminable multitudes;

                 Soul of those mighty spheres

               Whose changeless paths through Heaven’s deep silence lie;

230

230              Soul of that smallest being,

                       The dwelling of whose life

                    Is one faint April sun-gleam;—

                       Man, like these passive things,

               Thy will unconsciously fulfilleth:

235

235           Like theirs, his age of endless peace

                    Which time is fast maturing,

                       Will swiftly, surely come;

               And the unbounded frame, which thou pervadest,

                       Will be without a flaw

240

240           Marring its perfect symmetry.