B(Klk -T^^- •^4^- A^^ ^^^ DEATH OR, MEDORUS' DREAM. AUTHOR OF "AHASUERUS." NEW-YORK: Harper & Brothers, 82 Cliffs t. 1843. Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1843, by Harper & Brothers, In the Clerk's Office of the Southern District of New-York. ^n^^ oi DEATH; MEDORUS' DREAM. "How sad the wan and melancholy hour. When wintry night creeps o'er the dark'ning sky, While the dull whisper of the gathering gale Strikes like an omen on the shuddering soul ! So Death, with his chill breath, and bony hand Press'd on the sinking heart, from our dim sense Shuts out the fading world, until the Tomb, With its dread shadows, steals upon the scene, Where Hope lies buried in sepulchral gloom. And Joy shall be no more. A2 death: or. " Midnight is dark, "When through the murky sky the thunder peals : Yet heavier, blacker, is that sable veil That Death draws o'er our unillumined orbs — A cloud intense, whose thick funereal shades Whirl through the billowy void from earth to heaven, Shrouding our sphere, that star nor sun can reach ! " Upon yon lifeless form the taper gleams "With feeble, sickly ray ; the shrunken breast Feels not the pressure of the folded hands, Or Grave's pale vestment now j the pulseless heart Must moulder in dull clay, no more to beat With ardent hopes or love ! What matters this. The ghastly drapery of the dead man's couch, Or sign of wo, or dissolution's seal. To him who lies in everlasting sleep ? Can he find joy in light ? Shall morning's breath Fan his pale brow, or flush his cheek again ? M E D O R U S DREAM. Shall dewy twilight, mantling o'er the earth, While sunset lingers on the distant mount. And viewless spirits, in the balmy air. Hold revel mid the fleecy summer clouds, Awake his soul once more, and bid it soar Up on its snowy wings mid angels there ? *' Night comes and goes, and Day streams o'er the east. Or, like a glorious seraph, in the west Sits on his cloudy pile of gold and gems, "While man admires, and earth, instinct with love, Falls into slumber 'neath that happy smile. Like a tired child, that sleeps with rosy dreams. Alas ! no ray can pierce his charnel-house ! The music of the winds, the rustling leaves. The song of birds, the perfume of the morn. The bright meridian sun, the azure dome, Through which the clouds on golden wings are borne. Where dwell those angel-ministers of love, Intent on good, who from their vases pour 8 D E A T H ; R, The dews and showers that fertilize the land, And make it bloom in fragrance ; gentle eve, That, like a dove, on silent pinion stoops From out the sky, and hovers o'er the world As softly as the ring-dove o'er her nest — Can these again, in all their happy power. Invoke a spirit to his fading form, Touch his dull brain, unbind his frozen heart. Or through his breast a transient feeling pass. To break the changeless sliimber of the grave ? No : Light no glory hath to gild the tomb. And Time's drear wave flows soundless o'er his head. What matters it to him, the swelling dirge, The raven plume, the tread of muffled feet. The whisper'd tone that fears to hear itself; The agonizing cry of wife or child. The prayer, the gasp of some lone sister sad. The knell, the solemn service for the dead. The coffin, clod, and faded turf, and mound Heap'd up to mark his last, dark resting-place ? These are thy many woes, barbaric Death ! Darkness and tears, oblivion, agony, MEDORUSDREAM. 9 Are thy remorseless ministers of ill j Sad end thou art of Nature's lustrous course, And mortal man shrinks 'neath thy angry frown, E'en as a stricken star to ashes turn'd. To dust and ashes, where once living rays Stream'd forth in splendour, dazzling countless worlds. " Oh, whither shall we turn, how wo escape 1 E'en in the sunshine, basking on yon hill. Sits mocking Death, counting his victims o'er. E'en in the air that plays around my brow — Yea, in its warmth, its fragrance, and its tones, That lull with a low-breathing harmony. More soft than notes of reed or dulcet flute. Lurks there an unseen presence, and a voice Whose whisper fills the icy heart with fear. And horrifies the soul. Seek not the dance. Ye virgins, gay with flowers and rosy smiles ; Nor ye, bright youths, that quaff" the purple cup. List not the song that fires the quiv'ring soul. Nor heed the glance from Beauty's love-lit eye ; 10 death; OR, Let Joy, that bird of Paradise, no more Stream like a sun-lit splendour through the sky : For while the rushing tide of gladness swells, While in the halls of revel Pleasure's glow- Kindles warm sympathy from heart to heart, And from the stagnant terror of our fears, We leap, exulting in our dream of hope : In that bright hour starts Death asudden up, Flaps his dark pall across the awe-hushed scene, Then beckons with a jeering finger forth, And leads unto the churchyard's silent shades, And searches out the epitaph that tells That Life is Death, and flesh but food for worms. " Thus musing oft, such shadowy visions rise, And freight my life with horror. Darkness still. Impenetrable darkness, ever hangs Like a thick curtain round my fainting soul, W^hile, as an hideous omen. Death sits there, And points me ever, with a mouldering hand, To his sad, eyeless aspect. Let me weep. Let blist'ring tears roll always down my cheek, MBDORUS' DREAM. 11 Let me sit here in solitude and sigh, And count the hours that bear me to the tomb, "Where Silence black, and cold Oblivion's power, Forever hold their wan and stirless reign. Oh, let me weep and moan at Man's drear lot — Smiles are for angels only, tears for men." Thus sad Medorus, on the summer grass. At eve mused 'neath the waving willow-tree. Whose sweeping branches flung a sombre shade That made the day a mourner, and most soothed The yearnings of his soul for solitude : Until, to ease at last his grief-worn breast. Sleep came upon the wooing winds, and breathed Upon his lids, singing his heart to rest. Then Fancy, sweetest spirit of the skies. That timid starts from Reason's chilling gaze. Though ever ready she, with sunny stores Unseen, to comfort Man, flew swiftly down From out blue heaven, upon her rainbow wings. And sat beside him on the silken turf — 12 DE ATH ; OR, Then held her magic mirror to his mind, And bade Medorus wake to realms of bliss, Unto the light of Knowledge and of Love. The light of Knowledge and of happy Lovel The one appears like some bright dawn that pours Its streaming tide Into the realms of darkness, and arrays Each cloud in gold, While in effulgence shines each fragrant world. The other, like those warm and rosy rays That sunset leaves, When all along yon fleeting mists that wing Their silent way, Through evening's twilight dome. There seems a presence of Divinity, As though a group of angels hover'd near. Or God's sweet smile Was ling'ring in the sky. Yet may their flowing rays harmonious beam, And shed a flood of radiance o'er the scene More effluent than the pearly orb that smiles Through Summer evening's shades. MEDORUS' DREAM. " 13 How change Medorus' feelings as he wakes ! Darkness disperses, and pale Horror flies, . On bat-like wings, away. Now swiftly beats his healthful pulse with joy. Ecstatic blisses quiver in his soul ; A gush of rapture rushes through his heart. And fills his sparkling eyes. Within his thoughts black Night shall dwell no more. But Day shall reign — Not made by some false meteor in the air. Dazzling but to deceive ; Not like the broad and fiercely-blazing beams Of the high noonday sun ; Nor like the calm, translucent, liquid ray Of Luna mid the stars — These are terrestrial, and of mortal taint ; But like the light that bathes the snowy wings Of some pure seraph seated on his throne. As slow lie moves on beatific- course. And harps God's praise. B 14 DE A T H ; OR, Then Fancy touch'd Medorus' brow, and quick His soul leap'd forth in disembodied bliss. And like an angel lay upon the air. When on the lids of sleeping flowers at eve The fresh and fragrant dew-drops sweetly lie ; When gentle birds their busy pinions fold, And nestling, dream of May-morn's vernal airs. Mid bush, and brake, and blooming hawthorn hedge; When Nature breathes a holy prayer for peace, And earth seems nearer heaven : then, in that hour, So still, so calm, v^^hen naught is heard around, Save the faint hum of some small insect's wing, And the low sigh of the light puffing breeze, Or shepherd's song down in the purple vale. Or Echo's voice like music in the hills — At that sweet hour, while in the tranquil dome A flush yet lingers, like those better deeds That warm and sanctify the good man's grave Long after life's faint light is quench'd and gone ; Then in such hour, a child of song hath seen. While tears of joy bedim his kindling gaze. MEDORUS' DREAM. 15 Visions of bright-wing'd spirits in the sky, As pure, as fair, as gentle in their bhss As was Medonis' soul. 'Twas not the wavy outline of the form As, flexile on the bosom of the air, It lay instinct with grace ! 'Twas not the eye lit up with beams of love Bright as unclouded day ; 'Twas not the wing that veil'd his peaceful breast White as unsullied snow ; But 'twas a truth and innocence of thought, An angel gift of stainless purity, That had our worship won. In that deep trance of immortality, Beyond the reach of mortal words to speak. Beyond conception's ever-active power. Long had Medorus lain in speechless joy — Now gazing on the lucid heavens above, Where thronging multitudes of happy forms. Shining in light, soft as the star of morn. Circled in music through the empyreal void ; 16 death;or, And now around upon the lovely earth, Just as God's hand had made it, without stain, As on the primal day. If from his dreams The spirit had not roused him with soft words, As gentle as the sweet ^olian winds That sing the rose to sleep — Spreading her wings To catch the liquid breeze, she bade him mount Up through the balmy ether, there to bask In sunset's vermeil hues ; and there behold The sun's last rays flash through the amber air. And gild with golden fir6 the shadowy moon, Whose silver crescent o'er the eastern hills Faint gleams upon the sight. Swift gliding through the roseate atmosphere, They soar aloft on their rejoicing way. And pause not in their flight, until they reach A purple cloud that near the zenith lay Floating in glory, while its filmy threads Vibrated to each sunbeam's thrilling touch, Distilling dews ambrosial, and sweet showers ME DO RUS' DRE A M. 17 To cool, embalm, and perfume all the sky. Here tarried they upon that blissful seat, And folded their light wings, And gazed abroad on that transcendent scene In soul-felt ecstasy. Oft hath the man who loveth Nature's ways. Musing, gone forth alone by Ocean's tide, And, gazing on that amaranthine plain, Hath mark'd the rich beams of descending day Shoot slanting o'er the light and feathery waves. Until the sea, by burning passion moved, Through all its depths, turns into liquid gold. And heaves and thrills beneath those ardent rays. With love too strong for mortal minds to know. With love too deep for mortal hearts to feel. Then, from that glorious main, his soul-lit eye Hath wander'd straight to heaven; and in one view The pearl, and flame, and amethyst, and gold, The shadowy vermeil flush, the purple hght. The amber-tinted streak, and banner'd clouds, B2 18 DE ATH; OR, Like incense streaming up from Evening's shrine, Wafted by gentle gales along the sky, The beauty, brightness, majesty, and pomp, The gorgeous splendour of the imperial West, Burst on his raptured sight. He, happy then, While Fancy's spirit-form smiles o'er his head. Deems it the lovely sky that canopies The land of Paradise. But even he. In all he fancies there in those fair bowers, In all beheld on that enchanted sky. Hath never felt or seen, in feeblest form. The bliss or beauty that Medorus own'd. "Thou seest," the spirit said, "Death dwells not here." And round Medorus' lips a sweet smile play'd In all the lovehness and light of truth A cherub feels, when, from the Father's eye, A glance of love falls on his kneeling form j For, deep in his impulsive soul, he felt The Terror was not there. " Death is not here ; yet morn has pass'd away. MEDORUS' DREAM. 19 And the full glory of broad noon has gone, And soon yon slowly-sinking sun must set Beneath the sea. Yet if Death be, thus. Soul, it is to die. Thus in th€ holy wisdom that is writ Upon the firmament, on cloud or star, Or on the circling sun. On the pure shadows of the mystic hours, And on yon amber sea, A sacred lesson Nature teaches man. That life is not one form, or phase, or part, But an harmonious whole. Whose ever-shifting scenes and acts display New beauties unto time. Life passes not with youth, nor manhood's prime, Though wonderful the change ; But wiser age advances with pure thoughts, ' More happy for the soul. Time passes not with morning, nor with noon. Though many shadows fall ; But evening comes, with its far-struggling beams, And with its twilight mists : Yet still, Medorus, angel-minds perceive 20 D E A T H ; O R, As much of beauty in yon setting sun As in meridian day. Spirit fraternal ! oh, how hapless man, If in dark passions and in erring flesh, Unchanging he should dwell. In tedious struggle through the loathsome world, With life a ling'ring curse. With furrowed brow, and feverish, grief-bent form, He'd pass his lengthen'd years — And what God's mercy makes a glory now, A burning pain would be. If but the light of knowledge could shine through Man's darkened mind — If but the fire of sacred truth could touch His stagnant heart, And melt the chains that curb its swelling tide, Then would he know That in the hour the fluttering breath shall leave His trembling lips — That in the hour his senseless frame shall lie A mass of dust — In that same hour his being takes new form, And wings her way to a far happier clime Than earth can furnish here." MEDORUS' DREAM, 21 The spirit ceased — her modulated tones, Like the far tinklings of a silver bell, Though still more rare her voice, and softer still. Sank on Medorus' ear. From his deep, lustrous eyes, pure tears of bliss Flow'd down his kindling cheeks. How fair he was, how beauteous, how serene ! No taint of earth-born sin upon his form. The joy of gratitude sat on his brow — The joy of love reposed in his soft eyes, The joy of prayer upon his stainless lips. He felt the pride of immortality. The joy of life eternal, endless round Of sweet, revolving change. Medorus' snowy wings, in sunset's glance, Glisten'd with golden rays. While Fancy's rainbow plumes flash'd through the air Bright streams of jewell'd light. There, in the balmy sky, they silent sate. Communing heart with heart ; 22 D E A T H ; R, They knew God's gaze was on them from on high, Yet did not pause, or shrink ; — Well might Spring's spotless flowers turn pale with fear, Though more of sin than these. What priceless happiness, what rapturous thoughts, What elevated being they enjoy'd ! Yet still, as dust to gold, As night to vernal day, Were all they had to man's high destiny. But Change must act with its transmuting hand. Must cast aside the bonds that bind his soul. E'er he shall reach those spheres. Slowly around on that resplendent scene They look'd once more, with a long, ling'ring, gaze, Then turn'd to dewy Earth. Beneath their feet, slow wheeling on its path. Waking seraphic strains of starry song, Earth circled on its calm, harmonious way, Array'd in all those verdant, those abundant charms. MEDORUs' DREAM. 23 Which God, when light from gloomy darkness sprang, With ever-graceful and full-bounteous hand, Around her lovely form then freely cast. First, as they look'd, there rose upon the sight Long, waving chains of happy-smiling hills. Uprising gently from the sloping vales, . As if to woo the rustling noontide winds : Next, wide-expansive, music-making seas. Across whose placid, soft-suspiring tides The playful breezes fly, on tireless wings. Then, 'neath their wond'ring eyes at once dis- play'd. Behold, in one far-sweeping, lovely view. The broad green vesture of the quick'ning sod Trembling with heat, and glowing into life Under the warm sun's vivifying beams ; The Desert's thirsty plains gemm'd with their green And cool oases, bright mid barren sands ; Rivers whose pearly tides stretch'd far away Through fertile lands to Ocean's emerald brink ; And lakes that seem'd, in their transparent depths. The crystal eyes of Earth. Here mountains, hills, 24 D E A T H ; R, And winding dales, fair seas, and shining lakes. And silvery streams, gay-blooraing boughs, and flow- ery turf, Conspire, in all their loveliest power j to make The warm, the fresh, the pure, and beauteous form Of this enamell'd world. A quiv'ring light flash'd o'er the spirit's brow, Faint reflex of immortal thoughts that dwell In high angelic minds. A holier fire Shone in her radiant eyes, and louder now. Though still more musical, her harp-like voice : " Through countless years yon circling Orb has roll'd In sun-clad majesty around God's throne ; Through countless years the tide of human life Has ebb'd and flow'd like a continuous sea Upon Earth's bosom, whose hoarse, murmuring waves, Stirr'd by the storms of passion, ever beat On Time's eternal shores. Since first the sun Awoke the glory of this universe, MEDORUS' DREAM. 25 Millions of men have walk'd yon verdant plains, Have breathed existence' narrow span awhile ; Then, 'neath transmuting change, have turn'd to dust. But not to perish then. Medorus, no ! Omniscient God rules in his seat on high With everlasting laws ; and Nature's power. In her grand march, while sounds the trump of Time, Through ages past, through cycles yet to come. Knows no progression : nor can myriad years Affect her supreme strength. Such as Earth waSj When first Creation's golden morn broke o'er Deep-slumbering chaos, with its rosy beams ; When, rolling through the boundless azure-fields, The sister stars join'd in the seraph chant That pours its flood of rapt'rous melody In pleased Jehovah's ear — such will Earth be Until the end — when, finish'd his great work, He shall recall undying Nature hence Unto his fadeless arms. I tell thee. Soul, Each drop of dew, that, like the orient pearl, Glistens at morn within the flow'ret's cup ; Each flower, that opes its petals to the day, C 26 D E A T H ; R, And smiles in sunshine ; every blade of grass, Each waving tree, each river's crystal stream. Ocean's vast currents, ev'ry speck of sand Or substance huge that makes Earth's monstrous bulk, Shall yet in time assume man's living shape. Shall dwell a moment in such mortal form. Then be resolved in elemental life. Is not the vapour of yon snowy cloud — Are not the waters of yon rippling stream- Are not the waxen petals of Spring's flowers — Ts not the stainless rock, whose quick'ning heart Throbs with the fire Promethean, just as pure, And still more beautiful, than fleshly chains. That bind an essence in their torturing grasp That struggles to be free ? Bless'd spirit, thus Does sacred Wisdom prove its high designs In the bright resurrection of men's souls, Raised to celestial seats ; and in the course By which the dust^ squander'd by thriftless winds, Becomes the seed of life, and renovates. In all its varied aspects. Nature's power Of beauty, worth, and strength, and loveliness, M E D ORU s' DR E AM. 27 While in a circle of harmonious strength And holy sympathy all things are bound — How glorious, then, the destiny of man ! Whose fading form, wrapp'd in the winding-sheet, Bursts from the tomb itself regenerate. And in a thousand accents of deep joy, And in a thousand hues and beauteous shapes. Shall live again, while his irradiate soul AsGends to Heaven. MedoruSj this is Death !" 28 D E A T H ; R, >7a It was a lovely vision, that sweet spot, Where now Medorus and the Spirit stood. Behold a fresh and oval-fashion'd Dale, Deep bosom'd in the midst of rising hills. Through all the wide-extended landscape swelling, While on their verdant sides a woodland screen Reaches the fair horizon. No mortal footstep yet hath ever pass'd Its myrtle-guarded walls. No mortal hand hath ever yet profaned Its many-tinted flowers, Such as the wild enthusiast's soul hath view'd In Morning's formful sleep. When Fancy's varying rays stream freshly o'er His sympathetic heart : M E D R U s' D R E A M. 29 Such as a poet's eager eye hath seen In youth's inspiring hour, While sitting on the smooth and pebbly beach . Of some sun-glowing sea. Or gazing on the white-wing'd clouds of noon From some enshaded glen : Such to Medorus' happy vision seem'd This star-lit vale. The turf lay thick and green, Close matted in its mossy woof, Upon the genial soil, Save where sweet beds of flowers Gaze upward on the stars, Whose odours rich, from where they lie, With gentle arms Enwreath'd about each other's forms, Intoxicate the sense with a delight As blissful as their fragrance. The red Rose, blushing in its virgin pride, Hangs lightly on its green and briery stalk, And kisses from its pale-cheek'd sister's brow, C2 30 death; OR, With trembling lip, the pearly tear away. Here Violets, that spring by stealth at night, Of rarer scents and sweeter shapes than those Pluck'd by the village maiden in the vale, Ere yet the sun hath touch'd their dewy leaves, Mingle their balmiest odours and their hues With the soft-nectar'd sighs Of wind-flowers, pansies, hy'cinths, oxlips, And sun-striped tuhps tall. Until the freighted airs themselves grow faint, And on their weary way sink down to sleep Among the silent flowers watching there. Here tall trees, burden'd with their juicy fruits. Thick clustering down upon each loaded branch, Bent temptingly and low, as though to beg Some kindly hand to pluck their luscious gold ; While still o'er these, in mazy net- work, ran The tendrill'd vines of Spring's and Summer's birth ; Some, showering down their million-colour'd bloom Upon the verdant soil, which, melting fast Beneath the gentle warmth of Zephyr's breath. MEDORUS' DREAM. 31 Flow'd purling through the grass in perfumed streams. Faint murmuring odorous melodies ; — For aye supplied by countless swelling buds, Whose perfect beauties, bursting on the light. Expand in fragrance, form, and beauteousness, Until, ecstatic in full-bosom'd joy. They leap away from off the parent stem, To be dissolved into nectareous springs. Others, their flexile limbs all intertwined, Bore crystal gems Imbosom'd in a glossy garniture Of trailing vine and leaf; Or large Transparencies, Enshaded with a deep-dyed Tyrian stain ; Or Jewels, gleaming with rich-rubied rays, That leave their liquid treasures on the taste Ere scarce the tongue hath press'd them. Through this enchanting Paradise Their pausing steps, Wand'ring along a labarynthine walk. 32 DE A T H ; OR, . Led to the green and ebbless brink Of an unruffled lake, Upon whose stainless tide The water-lily lay, Sipping in graceful ease the limpid pearl, While looking down in maiden pride Upon her snowy form, Light-pictured in its waveless depths. In pure excess of happy innocence Elve-like and soft she smiles. Here, when the sunbeam's virgin light at morn Comes streaming from the East, Each sparkling drop, beneath the roseate thrill. Leaping in lustrous glow, This mimic sea seems like the flashing fount Of all earth's molten gems ; But now beneath the quiet-shining stars And fleecy-silver'd moon. And while the measures of that fairy song In soothing cadence steal From yonder jasraine-trellised bower. It calmly lies. Still as the moveless stars MEDORUs' DREAM. 33 That on its surface glitter. Oh, list the music of that fairy strain ! I. " Come hither, Fairies, to our jasmine bower, And wake in joy the charmed lay ; Haste hither, sisters, e'er this moonlit hour Shall fly on happy wings away; Bring the myrtle and rose, And the flower which grows Lily-white in the deep forest shade, And we'll twine then a chain, That the spell may be vain Which would cruelly harm the fairy maid. n. " Sweet sisters, come from your sports in the air Where ye follow the fire-fly's shoots ; The dew-pearl place in your bright-braided hair, And sing with your soft golden lutes : As the magic sound Steals sweetly around. 34 D E A T 11 ; R, Let it spread its web of fairy light O'er the sleeping flowers And the nectar'd showers That fall from the eyes of gentle Night. III. " From your palaces under the rosy wave, Where in dreams ye pass the day, From your gem-wrought homes in the crystal Cave, Or leafy couch wet with spray, Or waking or sleeping, In earth or air keeping Your dreams and your vigils of love. Bless'd spirits, one and all. Oh, list to the mystic call. For the stars in the silent sky. And the low wind's whisper'd sigh, And the tear in each flow'ret's eye, Will now our sweet-toned power approve." Plain was the language of the Fairy's call, But musically wild those woven notes MEDORUS' DREAM. 35 Which fill'd with harmony that spirit-haunt, And in swift pleasure heav'd Medorus' soul Beneath the charm of the dissolving song. In Asia's orange gardens, the Bulbul, With tongue fuli-steep'd in odours at its birth, From where he sits upon his rose-leaf perch, Singing to night's fair, silver-crested queen, Hath never yet pour'd forth such melody ; Nor mock-bird gay, that in Virginia's bowers Breathes out the summer-lightning of his song To rouse the drowsy sense of dreaming eve. Or fluttering in the breath of fresh'ning morn From bush to bushj from dewy brake to brake. At last alights on some old ivied tree, And with sweet pipe, that hails Aurora's smile, Awakes long echoes o'er some stilly sea ; Nor lute, nor harp, nor witch'd Thessalian lyre, Nor reed, touch'd by the balmy west wind's lip, Nor woman's voice, more charming yet than these. One half the rapture of that magic lay Hath ever pour'd into the listener's heart. 36 D E A T H ; O R, The song had ceased — the last vibrating note Caught by the murmuring airs, prolong'd, Was now in silence lost, Save vs?hat might linger yet on memory's ear, When thus the spirit spake : " This tranquil, this delicious scene, oh Soul, Excites thy fine existence with delight. While joy's quick fire thy sensate frame pervades, In thy pure mind a perfect knowledge rules, And full incorporate with thine inmost life, Uranian Love now holds her sov'reign sway. Behold that flower uprising 'neath thy step ! The half-felt breeze slight bends its pliant stalk, And as its tiny bud rocks to and fro. And courts the sunshine in its harmless glee. With a glad light of inborn joy it smiles. And looks a little purple star of Earth !" Into its complex textur'd form Medorus' eye deep search'd. M E D R U s' D R E A M. 37 Full and perfect was God's will Seen in that painted flower, As in the hugest sun, that, veil'd in flame, Is wont its broad, unmeasured sphere to roll Through boundless Nature's universal dome. Perpetual power of life existed there, That in decay finds strength renew'd, and life. Through change of time, and place, and circum- stance, Through centuries whose glories have all gone. In ashes which the steel-shod foot hath spurn'd, Or in that shape that beauty oft hath pluck'd To win a fragrance yet more sweet than hers. That httle plant hath lived, and yet will live. The tender, star-shaped leaf. The stalk of vivid green, The pearly roots, entwisted in the ground, "Wear but new form. The vein-like channels playing through its trunk, 'Neath the quick beatings of an unseen heart, A perfect conduct gave through its slight frame To life's and odour's swift elixir streams : And yet, bud, stalk, and vein, and silver leaf, D 38 death; OR, Were in the seed from which it had its birth. All these were there, to form a deathless life ; And such the shape it must again assume By fadeless Nature's indestructive laws. That give to it a fruitful being here, Undying as the earth on which it falls. " Spirit !" Medorus said, while o'er his face The flying shadows of his thought fast play'd, " Death dwells not in his hateful presence here." But as the words of music pass'd his lips, The angel waved her potent hand on high, And, sudden as a dream, the scene was changed. It seem'd that months had now roll'd quick away. And on their tides had swept into a wreck The pride and beauty of the peaceful dale ; The whistling winds blew keen and cold Across chill fields of garish snow. While now and then, with melancholy howl. They utter'd shrill complaints. MEDORUS' DREAM. 39 As though their famish'd spirits needed still More prey on which to feed. The ice-incrusted branches of the trees Moan'd piteously, or wildly shriek'd aloud, When the devouring blasts swept madly by, As if fierce animate with curdling pain. Black weeds, whose dank and pithless forms droop'd down In cold, unshelter'd penury. Now cast their skeleton shadows o'er The frost-enmirror'd plain, As though to mock, with misery and wo. The ashes of dead flowers entombed beneath Not one small spot of velvet verdure met The sun-bedazzled gaze. But here and there a meager, frozen blade. So wither'd and deep-stain'd That the sick eye shrunk 'neath its veiling lids In suffering and in fear. The clinging, curling vines. Whose leafy fingers once had slyly search'd For tasteful places mid the whisp'ring trees, Where blushing, pulpy fruits Might cluster gracefully. 40 death; OR, Now stiff and straight in shapeless, rigid lines, Or ornamentless curves, Hung awkward on each creaking limb. Monotonously swinging with the storm. Or on the flinty soil all sapless lay, Strewn by the wintry gale. Upon the brilliant lake, the glittering ice. Thick-frozen, shone, And through the torpid tide beneath. The water-lily's stem No longer waving ran. Bright spirits all were gone From earth, air, sea, of this once fragrant vale, And leafless, herbless, stiff with cramp and cold. Here now Despair might reign With Demons, leagued from Winter's twilight caves. " Lo ! this is Death, the Sammael of the Earth ;" And shivering then and pale, benumb'd with fear, Medorus, shrinking, closed his eyes in pain. But quick the Spirit smiled, and when he spoke, Medorus felt a glow of genial warmth Illumine his whole frame ME DORUS' DREAM. 41 With strength too keen and exquisite to speak In uninibodying words. " There is a sympathy 'mong all that dwell Upon this balanced sphere, sometimes remote, Sometimes more near in close affinities. The gaudy butterfly, whose painted form Floats aimless mid the sportive airs of spring. May hafve his being from the flesh that lay Next to great Cffisar's comprehensive heart. The slimy worm, whose slow, laborious course Confines the goal of its ephemeral life To a poor rod of land, may owe its frame To one whose august presence awed the world, And made it quake with wonder and with fear. Form is but dust, and when man's body sinks 'Neath Nature's hand in the dissolving grave. Its office done, its light extinguish'd then. There shall it soon resolve by Heaven's command Into those elements from which 'twas called. And many a link is form'd, and many a germ Sustaining Nature in her fadeless course Of cause and of effect. Thus do we learn That where a grain of sand sleeps in its bed, D2 42 D E A T H ; R, Which mortal eye hath never yet beheld ; Where'er the smallest drop of water rolls Deep in the midst of the unmeasured sea, Which the glad sunshine never yet hath warm'd, To the great earth, to stars and golden suns — Yea, from Hope's birth, through Destiny's wide reign. In man the flesh, and man the living soul. In all his sympathies with Nature's laws, Through mighty Nature's broad, mysterious rounds, Up to those essences that ever live In the sweet warmth of the Creator's breath, An endless chain is seen embracing all, And God supreme beholds the work complete. No link shall perish from this circling chain, But they shall last. Annihilation's pang, Seizing one human soul in its dark grasp. Touching one pebble on the sea's broad shore, Clouding the very vapour that man breathes. Would startle, in their stern, eternal strength, The towers of universe. " Shall man dispute Jehovah's sacred ways, or laugh at God ? M E D R U s' D R E A M. 43 Shall he, in his audacious thoughts, assume His feeble, petty energies have strength To place him on that lofty tribunal Where the great Godhead reigns ? No ! man may rule, In low obedience bow'd, his small domain ; But as in day the stars of night expire. So swiftly fade his fainting powers away, Immerged in lustrous God's effulgent light, Which with one radiant beam extinguishes Ten million million earth-enkindled rays. These powerless in their transitory flash To add one spark to his almighty sun. If, then, God wills yon flower shall droop, and fall, And turn to ashes — that its bloom shall fade, And naught remain of that fair, fragrant thing. Save the dark, shapeless seed — shall man proclaim That Heaven's great first and universal law, Stamp'd on the record of eternal things. The solemn seal of Nature's lengthen'd scroll, The life in change, a Phoenix from Time's dust, A mystery from whose shadowy influence springs The birth of ages, is some cruel trick. 44 DE ATH ; OR, Conceived in folly, and in deed unjust ; An act of wo, to please a fiendish breast 1 Let not the mind such' impious thoughts dare own. But rather let it look abroad and read The wisdom that shines out in every line Of the wide page traced by the Father's hand. All are His work, beginning and the end, The birth, the germe, the growth, and that great change Which from the ashes of departed forms Kindles new life, and thus. perpetuates To all eternity the vital flame. " Lo ! mark the progress of the full-grown Year, As, lightly borne upon the wing of Time, He passes gently to the land of dreams, By men declared oblivion, hut in truth Life's universe, more vast and populous Than all the space and all the worlds that shine In yon far-reaching dome. Shadow of Jove ! Eternal mirror of eternal acts. Whose light, reflected through the unmeasured past. M E D R U s' D R E A M. 45 Is yet too dazzling for the feeble gaze Of man's earth-tainted mind. Here congregate In one grand resurrection unto life, Their features palpable, their forms display'd, All thoughts, all deeds, all acts, low or supreme, By God created with omniscient hand, By man accomplish'd, or by Fate decreed. Like to the stars whose milky archway bends Across the sweeping skies. Lo ! mark the Year, As, passing onward in triumphal flight, Each joyful Season follows in his way. Fair is each Season as each rules the scene, Happy each Season on their bless'd domains : — And when their slumb'ring eyes wake to the day, Roused by th' advancing Hours, whose pageantry Sweeps through the bright'ning skies, how strange the plan To mortal comprehension, which thus makes From elements distinct a glorious whole. Where beauty, peace, and harmony prevail With fervid purpose and with ceaseless strength. 46 ■ • D E A T H ; R, "Spring laughing comes to bless the verdant land. Sweet breezes kiss the glowing curls that Ue Upon her blooming cheek ; a lambent fire Plays from her radiant eyes ; 'neath her light step Daisies and cowslips grow. Upon the bud She breathes, and quick the rose unfolds Its tinted leaves, and, trembling with keen bliss, Sips the pure morning dews, and soft exhales A gentle odour through the garden's walks More sweet than beauty's breath. Hark to those sounds ! The warbling notes that rise upon the gale Steal o'er the soul like voices of pure prayer, Or dream of Eden's joys. O'er all the earth Warm sunshine streams, whose fructifying rays Strike through the fibrous soil, and quicken there A thousand lovely forms ; these straightway start From that deep sleep which heaven so kindly sends Through winter's rugged hour, while soon they join The happy circle of all beauteous things, That fill the world with perfume and with song, MEDORUS' DREAM. 47 Hailing their bounteous mistress, virgin Spring. Mark Summer, sitting 'neath yon spreading palm, Her shady throne. With matron dignity She gazes round, and smiles in quiet pride While counting o'er the glorious wealth that fills Her wide domain. Now wave the growing fields Beneath the rip'ning winds and the warm sun ; Now the soft pulp of the distending fruits Imbibes rich nectar from the glowing beams Of the calm, golden day. Now Hope sits laughing In a world of light, and Promise near Weaves the bright numbers of a joyous lay, With Plenty still the burden of his theme. Next Autumn comes, the sweet industrious maid. Who garners up the treasures of past days. Brown nuts, and yellow grain, and ripen'd stores Of mellow'd fruits ; yet still a pensive smile. As soft as moonlight on some slumb'ring stream. Throws o'er her face a melancholy shade Of sober thought, as though her heart was sad That the large harvests which her sickle wins Should leave the earth so bare. And then she sings A plaintive strain that echoes through the land, 48 D E A T H ; R, Like the wild cooings of some soft-toned dove, A note of resignation and of peace, Though still a sound of sadness from the soul. Lo ! Winter rushes from the land of storms : From the cold Arctic regions, where he sat 'Mong clouds and darkness, and vast misshaped forms, He comes, with frosts, and howling winds, and hail. And the dark terrors of a sunless sky. Unshorn his ragged beard, and his fierce eyes, Relentless as the murderer's stony heart. Condemns the victim, while his icy breath. More deadly than the lightning's fiery gleam, Sweeps life into oblivion. Spirit, no ; Man's finite faculties alone may see Such evil in God's goodness : we behold A crowning mercy of beneficence In Winter's coldest blast. Could earth exist Without that change in matter and in form By which her strength recuperates, and lends An impulse unto Nature's fostering will ? The pulpy fruit would perish where it falls But for the bitter kernel ; flowers would fade, MEDO RU S' DREAM. 49 No more mid sweet ambrosial dews to bloom, But for the winter's torpid touch, that crusts The leathery seed with its rough coating o'er, Freezes its ardent currents ere they spring Into ephemeral being, and thus yields Unto a small and leaden speck, a power Of life perpetual, and from dull clay Maintains a breathing world. " The loveliest thing That ever yet had graceful being here, Aimless as zephyr, Whose soft, fluttering breath Plays o'er the waves of some light-rippling sea. Or firm as earth's huge pole Ne'er shaken from its poise. But in reliefless constancy oft seen. Grows tame to eye and mind. The sense rejects the perfume of the rose. Smelling too long its concentrated sweets : The eye flies from the dahlia's rainbow dyes, Too constant seen, with feverish restlessness, E 50 D E A T H ; R, To funeral black, or to barbaric red, Seeking relief in change of saddest kind From ever-present beauty's agony : Music is discord, Passion without soul, But that God's law, in wise ordainment, makes Kaleidoscopic change The ruling spirit of man's varying life. Naught yet, however wonderful or fair. Nor foamy gush of breezy waterfall. Nor art-refining music's swelling strains. Nor sea-shell's pearl, deep dyed with Nature's blood, Nor Morning's beaming star, When day's faint tinge enstreaks the lucid East, Nor Summer's pearly half moon, crescent-cast. That trembling hangs in th' amethystine sl