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THE DOVE AND THE EAGLE. 
 
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 - " DeSILITE," INQHT, " MILITES, NISI VCLTIS AQFILAM HOSTIBUS PRODERE ; EGO 
 CERTE MEIM ReIPUBLIC^ ET IMPERATORI OFFICIUM PR^STITERO." 
 
 Caisar. De Bella Gall. Lib. iv. § '35. 
 
 BOSTON: 
 TICKNOR, REED, AND FIELDS 
 
 MDCCCLI. 
 
76^3£ 
 
 La- 
 
 11^ 
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1851, by 
 
 TICKNOR, REED, AND FIELDS, 
 
 In the Clerk's office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. 
 
 BOSTON: 
 THURSTON, TORRy, AND EMERSON, 
 
 PrinUTS, Uevonsliire Street. 
 
" Our own duties are next us, other men's farther off. I do not 
 speak this that I do mislike the destroying and pulling down of 
 that which is ill, but then let us be as earnest to plant and build 
 u]) that which is good in the room of it. * * Let us quickly mend 
 our candlesticks and we shall not want lights." — Sir Benjamin 
 EuDYARD. — Speech in H. C. on the Inquiry into the State of Religion, 
 A. D. 1G28. 
 
THE DOVE AND THE EAGLE. 
 
 In that soft season of the year, 
 When early daisies first appear, 
 And new-born violets dare unfold 
 The freshness of the virgin mould ; 
 When airs, of late so wild and rude, 
 With soothing whispers stir the wood, 
 And wakening nature feels the power 
 Of genial sun and kindly shower, 
 And the sweet season's influence 
 Breathes softening over every sense : 
 An Eagle, king of some high peak, 
 'Mid icy cliflfs and breezes bleak, 
 
THE DOVE AND THE EAGLE. 
 
 Returning from the troubled shore 
 Where mingUng winds and waters roar ; 
 His lordly stomach gorged with prey 
 Snatched, lordlike, from the angry spray: 
 As stately onwards sweeping through 
 The fields of heaven's celestial blue. 
 Though his wild eye in upper air 
 Not oft encountered sight so fair, 
 Yet full before the bird of Jove 
 Sailed swiftly on a snow-white Dove. 
 
 The Dove was far too conscience clear, 
 To entertain a thought of fear ; 
 And whether 't was his recent foray 
 Had made his appetite so sorry, 
 Or the sweet influence of the season 
 Had brought his kingly maw to reason ; 
 Or, since the Lion, as some think. 
 From virgin innocence will shrink, 
 Our pure and gentle friend could awe 
 The king of air by nature's law ; 
 
THE DOVE AND THE EAGLE. 
 
 'Tis certain some strange courtesy 
 Half softened in his wild gray eye, 
 And in his altered voice might seem 
 Something this side his usual scream. 
 
 Addressing her, which was but reason, 
 Since speaking first to kings is treason. 
 Just as one overtakes a neighbor 
 Returning home at eve from labor. 
 With compliments and easy chatter, 
 And such preliminary matter, 
 They kept along with friendly feather, 
 And sailed their airy way together ; 
 'Till, on a hill-side, where a block 
 Of bold, gray, weather-beaten rock 
 Stood jutting out, but hung so high, 
 Poised midway 'tvvixt the earth and sky, 
 The brook beneath, with gurgling flow, 
 Sent up no murmur from below. 
 And scarce a stunted pine-tree fluttered 
 As sobbing winds around it muttered, 
 
THE DOVE AND THE EAGLE, 
 
 Our new-made friends, quite social grown, 
 Saw fit occasion to light down, 
 And thus of things that touch the nation, 
 Discoursed in serious conversation. 
 
 " I, my sweet friend," quoth royalty, 
 " Who roam o'er earth and air and sea, 
 And, just to nature's sovereign sway, 
 Make all that I can seize my prey. 
 That grand and ancient rule of might, 
 Which is unquestionably right, — 
 Have frequent thoughts come o'er my mind, 
 And chiefly after I have dined. 
 Following on any slight refection. 
 Comes food for serious recollection ; 
 Of this strange instinct, deeply planted. 
 By which my regal breast is haunted. 
 Which makes me quite forgetful grow, 
 Of wild or gentle, high or low, 
 The moment hunger's strong suggestion 
 Presents the interesting question. 
 
THE DOVE AND THE EAGLE. 9 
 
 Decided soon, betwixt refining 
 And the necessity of dining ; 
 Come quarry then within my swoop, 
 And morals all go cock-a-hoop. 
 
 " Yet when from some such airy height 
 As this, commanding ample sight, 
 I look beneath upon the plain, 
 And man, who claims consummate reign, 
 And view the selfish, squabbling creatures 
 Defile their hearts and soil their natures, 
 'Tis then my royal stomach rises. 
 To watch their tricks and mean devices. 
 And my own conscience, that before 
 Creaked like some ill-made, wind-swung door, 
 Forgetful of its former twinges, 
 Works as if swung on fresh oiled hinges. 
 
 '■ You pretty one, whose gentle life 
 Knows little of my fiercer strife. 
 
10 THE DOVE AND THE EAGLE. 
 
 But whom your station leads to see 
 
 Much general society, 
 
 Fain would I know, in honest part, 
 
 How these things strike your simple heart." 
 
 '' Right noble Sir," replied the Dove, 
 " Our life, indeed, is one of love ? 
 Not we, with reverence be it said, 
 Prey on the living or the dead ; 
 Our daily food some scattered grains, 
 Picked, here and there, with wondrous pains, 
 And quite remote from every trouble, 
 Save now and then some barn-door squabble, 
 Such momentary miffs as rise 
 When this or that one finds a prize, 
 Domestic bliss thence grows completer, 
 As passing clouds make sunshine sweeter. 
 Our lives thus passed in peace and quiet, 
 On good, plain, wholesome, honest diet, 
 Whence best philosophers agree 
 Come purest thoughts, ambition free, 
 
THE DOVE AND THE EAGLE. 11 
 
 We circle through the yielding air, 
 
 Uiivexcd by life's absorbing care ; 
 
 To live and love our one desire, 
 
 To naught beyond our souls aspire ; 
 
 My very heart the thought would harrow, 
 
 To turn the feather of a sparrow, 
 
 Nor would my conscience let me stifle 
 
 Things you, great Sir, might deem a trifle. 
 
 We see this world, as on it scrambles. 
 
 Find roses much more scarce than brambles. 
 
 Deducing such unwholesome fruit, 
 
 From selfishness, its bitter root ; 
 
 But hold our rule, that every brother 
 
 Is happiest helping one another, 
 
 And best displays his Christian part, 
 
 By act humane and kindly heart. 
 
 '• Perhaps these rustic things I mention 
 Scarce worthy yonr serene attention ; 
 No life we lead among the great, 
 Nor comprehend affairs of state." 
 
12 THE DOVE AND THE EAGLE. 
 
 " True, gentle friend," the Eagle said, 
 And somewhat tossed his haughty head, 
 " 'Tis plainly to be seen your station 
 Precludes much general observation ; 
 And yet I muse that this world's folly 
 Has never made you melancholy. 
 
 " Methinks that common sense and reason 
 Have grown, at length, quite out of season ; 
 No more the heart and soul heroic. 
 No more the virtues of the stoic. 
 No more the counsels of the sage, 
 No more the reverence due to age. 
 No more the burning, generous youth 
 That pants for glory, lives for truth • 
 But blank conceit and weak pretence, 
 And morals shallow as its sense, 
 Its ancient honor all polluted. 
 Its old, plain, manly mind diluted. 
 For good, strong, honest, homely thought, 
 Stuff made of dreams and cobweb-wrought. 
 
THE DOVE AND THE EAGLE. 13 
 
 And all that fired, and all that shone, 
 Dimmed, quenched, extmct, contemned, and 
 
 gone; 
 So much confused that once was glorious, 
 And silly mischief half victorious ; 
 This, my dear friend, the social state 
 Which makes me sadden at its fate. 
 This world is sick, you may be sure, 
 Beyond all art or nature's cure, 
 A mighty monster, Humbug hight, 
 Has clutched it fast and holds it tight. 
 
 " Hear its reformers from the gutter 
 Their new-found moral notions utter, 
 And Truth would seem but just begun 
 To show its face beneath the sun ! 
 Their darkened minds catch some faint gleam 
 Of holy Light's pereimial beam, 
 And owl-like fluttering, who but they 
 Discoverers of the God of Day ! 
 One just has gained a glimmering notion 
 Of Heaven's high claim to man's devotion, 
 
14 THE DOVE AND THE EAGLE. 
 
 And straight he leaps the whole relation 
 
 Of man, time, place, degree, and station, 
 
 Despises what is only real, 
 
 Grapples the abstract and ideal. 
 
 And what he jumps to for conclusion, 
 
 Would make the universe confusion. 
 
 " Some tippling vagabond starts up 
 To dash in time the poisoned cup ; 
 Feels, as he wakes to sober sadness, 
 This the great sin, — the primal madness; 
 And, heedless that life's noblest use 
 Might be denounced by its abuse, 
 Of all true virtue, to his thinking, 
 The sum consists in water drinking, 
 And the law, moral and divine, 
 Means only abstinence from wine ! 
 
 "And in this world of good and evil. 
 Where much seems sadly out of level, 
 And triumph often crowns the bad, 
 While virtue suifers and is sad ; 
 
THE DOVE AND THE EAGLE. lo 
 
 Where wisdom starves and walks alone, 
 Folly in crowds and overgrown ; 
 Where fortune waits upon the knave, 
 And this is free and that a slave ; 
 In such a state, so oddly blended, 
 But all, no doubt, for good intended. 
 Since Heaven's high purpose can educe 
 From seeming evil real use ; — 
 Some puny whipster, by this light, 
 Deems himself born to set all right. 
 And thinks the very mischief in it, 
 If he can't mend it in a minute ; 
 To madness seems completely given, — 
 Flies in the face of earth and heaven, — 
 Because his modest innovation. 
 Fails to remodel all creation ! 
 
 " No, my good friend, whoever tries 
 To use, as nature meant, his eyes. 
 Will find how tends all such philosophy 
 The mind to cloud, the heart to ossify ; 
 
16 THE DOVE AND THE EAGLE. 
 
 Uiicured as yet life's state of ill, 
 Though social sophists preach their fill ; 
 And manly strength and courage high, 
 And the bold heart's true constancy, 
 So needful, never yet became 
 To touch life's embers into flame. 
 To wake it from its sluggish sleep, 
 To give its nobler purpose sweep. 
 To free the truth, which really seems, 
 Half buried under idle dreams. 
 And cleanse it of this whining stufi", 
 Of which, methinks, we've had enough." 
 
 " Sir," said the Dove, "I grieve to find 
 Such sadness vex your royal mind ; 
 Much to which mortals are addicted 
 I own my bosom has afiiicted ; 
 Old things have lost their old respect, 
 And good things fallen into neglect ; 
 In manners there is too much looseness, 
 In moral sense a strange obtuseness ; 
 
THE DOVE AND THE EAGLE. 17 
 
 Those ancient words, which once had power 
 To guide and rule life's varied hour, 
 Faith, bright with glories from afar, 
 Honor, of noble minds the star. 
 Truth, like a cuirass, clasped and prest 
 Forever on the generous breast, — 
 The modest mien, that shrinks from vice, 
 The unsullied soul, beyond all price, — 
 Such things are shorn of half their worth. 
 Since transcendental light broke forth, 
 A mocking, flickering, feeble ray. 
 Fit to lead fools the downward way. 
 
 " Even I, who seldom speculate, 
 Am vexed at times with much debate, 
 Disturbed in mind with strange confusions, 
 Touching the end of these delusions, 
 Since modern socialists have free sent 
 Their doctrines, neither wise nor decent. 
 And, flagrant in their false ambition, 
 Even unsexed women preach sedition. 
 2 
 
18 THE DOVE AND THE EAGLE. 
 
 " Yet should not we, with honest hearts, 
 Act as we may our several parts, 
 Nor while these sinners blow their bubbles, 
 Distress ourselves with needless troubles ? 
 This world wags on, blow high or low," — 
 " Nay," quoth the Eagle, " say not so ; 
 It quite delights me to discover 
 You sometimes think these matters over ; 
 And, though my nature prompts to war 
 By regum ratio ultima, 
 And, in our state of imperfection. 
 To this I see no just objection ; 
 Yet Heaven forefend that I should prove 
 Traitor to Heaven's high law of Love. 
 But, in this world of rampant vice, 
 We need discrimination nice ; 
 To love the bad were scarcely just, 
 Like those who most deserve our trust ; 
 And to keep peace with all things evil. 
 Seems much like treaty with the Devil. 
 
THE DOVE AND THE EAGLE. 19 
 
 " Believe me, friend, this world's affairs 
 Demand profoundest thoughts and cares, 
 Lest, 'mid the turmoil, heat, and passion, 
 Truth grow entirely out of fashion. 
 Poor husbandry it were, 't is plain, 
 To burn the field of golden grain. 
 Because the tare's unwholesome weed 
 Springs neighbor to the bounteous seed. 
 
 " And yet such shallow casuistry, 
 Scarce fit for Epicurus' sty, 
 Has vogue enough to cheat the many. 
 Led by some jack-o'lantern zany. 
 Pregnant with unsubstantial schemes 
 Wrought out of cloud by John-a-dreams. 
 
 " Little they reck, to gain one point, 
 Though all things else get out of joint. 
 And, for some partial good, would deal 
 Woe to the universal weal. 
 Nothing is more absurd to see 
 Than this miscalled philanthropy ! 
 
20 THE DOVE AND THE EAGLE. 
 
 High, holy, pure, the gracious plan 
 Which bids man love his fellow-man ; 
 Yet who can honor him, whose breast 
 For one pet wrong neglects the rest ? 
 Who, reckless of time, mode, and season, 
 Pushes conclusions out of reason ; 
 Till his philanthropy, indignant, 
 Assumes a type but too malignant ; 
 And zeal, turned gall, begets a spite 
 To all but his own rule of right, 
 And mounts him on his special evil, 
 To ride it to the very devil ! 
 
 " Give me that patriot love, whose glow 
 The manliest, gentlest bosoms know, 
 That, with the statesman's wiser soul, 
 Protects the part, maintains the whole ; 
 Not his who, mad for any cause, 
 Hates his own country and her laws ; 
 Her Constitution's starry glory, — 
 Each gallant theme that gilds her story, 
 
THE DOVE AND THE EAGLE. 21 
 
 All otlier rights of man or woman, 
 All other things divine and hnman ; 
 Because such slight considerations 
 Withstand his wiser inclinations ! 
 
 " One man conceiv^es that non-resistance 
 Involves no serious inconsistence, 
 So he hold off from clapper-claws, 
 Whate'er the license of his jaws ; 
 Though he is very far from chary 
 In choice of his vocabulary ; 
 Than Ancient Pistol no more nice is 
 In language, or than King Cambyses. 
 In conscience he is far too tender 
 To Cesar, Cesar's things to render, 
 Though social order's strong defences 
 Protect him from harm's consequences ; 
 But flouts the Law, whose holy fiat 
 Maintains the universal quiet, 
 And sovereign, when he wakes or sleeps, 
 His silly head from mischief keeps. 
 
oo 
 
 THE DOVE AND THE EAGLE. 
 
 " And thus it comes, that he whose mind 
 To its own lot has felt resigned, 
 Who always led a quiet life. 
 Apart from this world's fever strife. 
 Has loved his country and obeyed 
 The laws, which all his safety made ; 
 Honored his betters, — did his duty, 
 And all whose days were daily beauty ; 
 Who spoke no scandal, writ no libel, 
 But feared his God and read his Bible ; "''■ 
 And hoped that virtuous means would tend 
 To win, at last, the good man's end ; 
 Why such, who honor earth, and give 
 Heaven's holy lesson how to live, — 
 Why such, so pure, so true, so wise, 
 If yet they breathe beneath the skies, 
 Our modern witlings view with loathing, 
 As just precisely good for nothing, 
 So useless, so behind the age. 
 Superfluous laggards on life's stage ! " 
 
THE DOVE AND THE EAGLE. 23 
 
 " And yet, methinks," rejoined the Dove, 
 " Our gentle life of sinless love 
 Presents an ever bright example, 
 And proves a panoply most ample 
 Against these ills you so much dread," — 
 And more, perchance, she would have said, — 
 But, as some blessing often springs 
 Beneath misfortune's brooding wings, 
 So frequent, in our proudest hours 
 Some unexpected evil lowers ; 
 And thus it happened, as she spake, 
 A slimy, creeping, deadly snake, 
 (Who, by his one idea so blinded, 
 The king of air had never minded,) 
 Regardless of the law of love, 
 Like lightning sprang upon the Dove ! 
 Round her white neck his folds enwreathing, 
 Had stopped the fluttering creature's breathing ; 
 But that the Eagle, who astounded, 
 By such impertinence confounded, 
 
24 THE DOVE AND THE EAGLE. 
 
 A second stood, — then like a thought 
 The intruder in his talons caught, 
 Stretched all his loathly length before him, 
 And to a thousand ribbons tore him ! 
 
 Serenely turning, not a ruffle 
 Received from such inglorious scuffle. 
 But with that air of satisfaction 
 Which waits upon a virtuous action, 
 (While the poor Dove stood trembling by 
 With quaking heart and drooping eye,) 
 " My lovely friend," the Eagle said, 
 " Your foe, thanks to the stars, is dead ; 
 Chase then away this sad dejection. 
 And find some lesson worth reflection. 
 
 " This world of ours, beyond debate, 
 Is but a very mixed estate • 
 Unvalued half its virtues shine, 
 Its pearls are cast before the swine, 
 
THE DOVE AND THE EAGLE. 25 
 
 And folly sweeps its noblest things, 
 As down flies on the whirlwind's wings, 
 Or autumn leaves, flung on the river, 
 Float downwards till they sink forever. 
 Helpless, alas ! your very sweetness. 
 Without my strength and fiery fleetness, 
 Against such creeping, noisome creature, 
 Of sordid heart and grovelling nature ; 
 And if my counsel you would ponder, 
 'T would teach you not from home to wander, 
 Since from such harms your innocence 
 Would prove, I fear, but weak defence. 
 
 " For might I, madam, dare propound 
 Advice which I conceive most sound. 
 For feathered creatures fit and human. 
 For every Dove and every woman, — 
 It is, that all their loveliest graces 
 Shine most in their appropriate places. 
 Swaying, at home, with gentle art 
 Their mighty empire of the heart ; 
 
THE DOVE AND THE EAGLE. 
 
 Not circling round in distant flights, 
 
 Nor gadding out, in quest of rights. 
 
 For every right that women gain 
 
 Does but sophisticate their reign, 
 
 Breaks through life's holiest, sweetest trance. 
 
 Dispels the dream of young romance, 
 
 Defrauds them of that proud submission, 
 
 We gladly yield to their condition, 
 
 Is treason to that empire high 
 
 Ruled by the law of smile and sigh, 
 
 And could they think it worth pursuing, 
 
 Would only end in their undoing. 
 
 " And now a something at my heart 
 Tells me, sweet friend, 't is best we part, 
 You for the softer walks of life, 
 I for the crag, the storm, the strife. 
 And, to be plain, as I'm a sinner. 
 Some intimations touching dinner, 
 Unsafe for you, my lovely guest, 
 Unworthy of my royal breast, 
 
THE DOVE AND THE EAGLE. 27 
 
 Urge me to end our conversation 
 By swallowing you for my collation. 
 Fly then in time, adieu, adieu ! " 
 And down the yielding air she flew, 
 While he, on mighty pinions spread. 
 Up to his crag-built eyry sped. 
 
C 32 89 ^4i 
 
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