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As ne'er till then, had let their light
Such were the deep-drawn mysteries, Escape on any mortal's sight!
And some, perhaps, even more profound,
More wildering to the mind than these,
Or a fallen outlaw'd spirit reach-
Till—fill'd with such unearthly lore, At home in each new element,
And mingling the pure light it brings And sure of worship every where !
With much that Fancy had, before,
Shed in false tinted glimmeringsThen first was Nature taught to lay
The enthusiast girl spoke out, as one, The wealth of all her kingdoms down
Inspired, among her own dark race, At woman's worshipp'd feet, and say,
Who from their altars, in the sun “Bright creature, this is all thine own!"
Left standing half adorn'd, would run Then first were diamonds caught-like eyes
To gaze upon her holier face. Shining in darkness—by surprise,
And, though but wild the things she spoke, And made to light the conquering way
Yet 'mid that play of error's smoke, Of proud young Beauty with their ray.
Into fair shapes by fancy curld, Then, too, the pearl from out its shell,
Some gleams of pure religion brokeUnsightly in the sunless sea
Glimpses that have not yet awoke, (As 't were a pirit forced to dwell
But startled the still dreaming world! In form unlovely,) was set free,
Oh! many a truth, remote, sublime, And round the neck of woman threw
Which God would from the minds of men A light it lent and borrow'd too.
Have kept conceald, till his own time, For never did this maid-whate'er
Stole out in these revealments thenThe ambition of the hour-forget
Revealments dim, that have fore-run, Her sex's pride in being fair,
By ages, the bright, Saving One !' Nor that adornment, tasteful, rare,
Like that imperfect dawn, or light Which makes the mighty magnet, set
Escaping from the Zodiac's signs, In Woman's form, more mighty yet.
Which makes the doubtful East half bright
Before the real morning shines !
Thus did some moons of bliss go by-
of bliss to her, who saw but love I did not seek with such fond care,
And knowledge throughout earth and sky; That when I've seen her look above
To whose enamour'd soul and eye, At some bright star admiringly,
I seem'd, as is the sun on high, I've said, “ nay, look not there, my love,
The light of all below, above, Alas, I cannot give it thee !"
The spirit of sea, land, and air,
Whose influence, felt every where, But not alone onders found
Spread from its centre, her own heart, Through N. realm-the unveil'd, material,
Even to the world's extremest partVisible glories hang round,
While through that world her reinless mind Like lights, through her enchanted ground
Had now career'd so fast and far, But whatsoe'er unseen, ethereal,
That earth itself seem'd left behind, Dwells far away from human sense,
And her proud fancy unconfined,
Already saw heaven's gates a-jar!
Happy enthusiast! still, oh still,
Spite of my own heart's mortal chill, Through men or angels, flowers or suns
Spite of that double-fronted sorrow, The workings of the Almighty Mind,
Which looks at once before and back, When first o'er Chaos he design'd
Beholds the yesterday, the morrow, The outlines of this world; and through
And sees both comfortless, both blackThat spread of darkness—like the bow,
Spite of all this, I could have still Callid out of rain-clouds, hue by hue
In her delight forgot all ill; Saw the grand gradual picture grow!
Or, if pain would not be forgot, The covenant with human kind
At least have borne and murmur'd not.
Of sinfulness, which Ieven I,
1 It is the opinion of some of the Fathers, that the know Shall be work'd out through sin and pain,
ledge which the heathens possessed of the Providence of
God, a future state, and other sublime doctrines of Chris. And Fate shall loose her iron chain,
tianity, was derived from the premeture revelations of these And all be free, be bright again!
fallen angels to the women of earth.See Note
While down its steep most headlong driven,-
Came o'er me with an agony
To sooth, to warm,-nay, even to blessIf ever bliss could graft its flower
On stem so full of bitternessEven then her glorious smile to me
Brought warmth and radiance, if not balm, Like moonlight on a troubled sea,
Brightening the storm it cannot calm. Of, too, when that disheartening fear,
Which all who love beneath the sky
The dreadful thought that it must die!
Most full of sadness, from the thought
Fell yesterday, in vain be soughtThat Heaven to me the final seal
Of all earth's sorrow would deny,
The death-pang, without power to die !
Kills whatsoe'er it lights upon
Too deep for even her soul to shun
In that same garden, where, beneath
Which even in pain I ne'er forget-
And loved as never man was yet! In that same garden we were now,
Thoughtfully side by side reclining, Her eyes turn'd upward, and her brow
With its own silent fancies shining. It was an evening bright and still
As ever blush'd on wave or bower, Smiling from Heaven, as if nought ill
Could happen in so sweet an hour. Yet, I remember, both grew sad
In looking at that light-even she, Of heart so fresh, and brow so glad,
Felt the mute hour's solemnity, And thought she saw, in that repose,
The death-hour not alone of light,
Of all things beautiful and bright-
Suddenly, sprung within her breast-
Startles him from his dreamy nest-
Dilated into that full shape
As if to let more soul escape,
Resembling those divine ones, given, Like preludes to sweet minstrelsy,
Before thou camest, thyself, from heaven. The same rich wreath was on thy brow,
Dazzling as if of star-light made ; And these wings, lying darkly now,
Like meteors round thee flash'd and play'd. All bright as in those happy dreams
Thou stood'st, a creature to adore No less than love, breathing out beams,
As flowers do fragrance, at each pore ! Sudden 1 felt thee draw me near
To thy pure heart, where, fondly placed, I seem'd within the atmosphere
Of that exhaling light embraced;
Pass'd from thy heavenly soul to mine,
Like thee, all spirit, all divine. Say, why did dream so bright come o'er me,
If, now I wake, 't is faded, gone ? When will my Cherub shine before me
Thus radiant, as in heaven he shone !
" When shall I, waking, be allow'd
To gaze upon those perfect charms, And hold thee thus, without a cloud,
A chill of earth, within my arms ? “ Oh what a pride to say—this, this
Is my own Angel-all divine, And pure, and dazzling as he is,
And fresh from heaven, he's mine, he's mine! “ Think'st thou, were Lilis in thy place,
A creature of yon lofty skies,
One glory from her lover's eyes?
Shine out, young Spirit, in the blaze Of thy most proud divinity,
Nor think thou'lt wound this mortal gaze. “ Too long have I look'd doating on
Those ardent eyes, intense even thusToo near the stars themselves have gone,
To fear aught grand or luminous. " Then doubt me not-oh, who can say
But that this dream may yet come true, And my blest spirit drink thy ray
Till it becomes all heavenly too? “Let me this once but feel the flame
Of those spread wings, the very pride
By the mere touch be deified !"
All creatures, whatsoe'er they were,
At least would bring down heaven to her!
Even I, whose soul, but half-way yet
O'er half whose disk the sun is set-
The dreadful-how can it be told ?
Is o'er again to feel, behold!
Pass'd for a moment through my breast
To one, or both-something unbless'd
To happen from this proud request. But soon these boding fancies fled;
Nor saw I ought that could forbid My full revealment, save the dread
Of that first dazzle, that unhid
And bursting glory on a lid Untried in heaven and even this glare She might, by love's own nursing care, Be, like young eagles, taught to bear. For well I knew the lustre shed From my rich wings, when proudliest spread,
Was, in its nature, lambent, pure,
And innocent as is the light
Her mate to her green bower at night.
The feather'd snow (which, for its whiteness,
So harmless, though so full of brightness,
To print my radiant lips on some ?
Had she not waked, unscathed and bright, As doth the pure, unconscious rose,
Though by the fire-fly kiss'd all night?
The blade within the unharm'd sheath,
Reach and dissolve the soul beneath!
Thus having (as, alas, deceived
There fix'd upon me, eagerly
Then waited but a sign from me-How was I to refuse ? how say
One word that in her heart could stir
I brought from heaven belong'd to her ?
She waited for the awful boon,
Watching the rise of the full moon, Whose beams--they know, yet cannot shunWill madden them when look'd upon! Of all my glories, the bright crown, Which, when I last from heaven came down, I left-see, where those clouds afar
Sail through the west-there hangs it yet, Shining remote, more like a star
Than a fallen angel's coronetOf all my glories, this alone
Was wanting--but the illumined brow, The curls, like tendrils that had grown
Out of the sun--the cycs, that now Had love's light added to their own, And shed a bluze, before unknown
Even to themselves—the unfolded wings,
Of that rich panoply of charms
Thus glorious, glided to her arms, Which still (though at a sight so splendid
Her dazzled brow had instantly Sunk on her breast) were wide extended'
To clasp the form shé durst not see !
And look'd in mine with-oh, that look!
Avenging Power, whate'er the hell
Her ashy lips a kiss impressid,
'T was fire-but fire, even more unbless'd Than was my own, and like that flame, The angels shudder but to name, Hell's everlasting element !
Deep, deep it pierc'd into my brain, Madd’ning and torturing as it went,
And here-see here, the mark, the stain It left upon my front-burnt in By that last kiss of love and sinA brand, which even the wreathed pride Of these bright curls, still forced aside By its foul contaci, cannot hide!
Great God! how could thy vengeance light
When-oh most horrible !-I felt
Could follow the fierce ravening flashes,
Blackening within my arms to ashes !
Those lips, whose touch was what the first Fresh cup of immortality
Is to a new-made angel's thirst !
As when they first were round me cast,
But, burning, held me to the last-
But is it thus, dread Providence
Can it, indeed, be thus, that she,
Had honour'd Heaven itself, should be
With more than anguish, with despair-
In heaven or earth-this scorch I bear! Oh,-for the first time that these knees
Have bent before thee since my fall, Great Power, if ever thy decrees
Thou couldst for prayer like mine recal, Pardon that spirit, and on me,
On me, who taught her pride to err, Shed out each drop of agony
Thy burning phial keeps for her! See, too, where low beside me kneel
Two other outcasts, who, though gone And lost themselves, yet dare to feel
And pray for that poor mortal one.
That Passion brings down on the best,
Bright erring souls are not forgiven ?
Their very wanderings lean tow'rds heaven! Again I cry, Just God, transfer
That creature's sufferings all to me
Mine, mine the guilt, the torment be To save one minute's pain to her,
Let mine last all eternity!
"T was madd’ning, 't was—but hear even worse
Their last, keen, agonized farewell,
He paused, and to the earth bent down
His throbbing head; while they, who felt That agony as 't were their own,
Those angel youths, beside him knelt, And, in the night's still silence there, While mournfully each wandering air
Play'd in those plumes, that never more
And glorious universe of his,
And endless love, proclaims He is!
That gentle instrument, as suits The sea-air to an ocean-shell
(So kin its spirit to the lute's,) Tremblingly follow'd the soft strain, Interpreting its joy, its pain,
And lending the light wings of words To many a thought that else had lain
Unfledged and mute among the chords. All started at the sound-but chief
The third young Angel, in whose face, Though faded like the others, grief
Had left a gentler, holier, trace;
Unmelted at the bottom lay,
The bitterness should pass away.
Of solitary sweetness broke,
To his bright peers, while thus it spoke : “Come, pray with me, my seraph love,
My angel-lord, come pray with me;
But pray I cannot without thee! "I've fed the altar in my bower
With droppings from the incense-tree;
Of life, or lustre, without thee!
Are like what I am without thee! * Then ne'er, my spirit-love, divide,
In life or death, thyself from me;
But when again, in sunny pride,
Oh, happier thus than without thee!"
Where curving down that airy height,
There suddenly shone out a light
That haunt a poet's walk at even,
Upon his dreams of love and heaven. 'T was but a moment—the blush, brought O'er all her features at the thought
Of being seen thus late, alone, By any but the eyes she sought,
Had scarcely for an instant shone
Through the dark leaves when she was goneGone, like a meteor that o'erhead Suddenly shines, and, ere we've said, “Look, look, how beautiful!"—'t is fled. Yet, ere she went, the words, “I come,
I come, my Nama," reach'd her ear,
In that kind voice, familiar, dear, Which tells of confidence, of home, Of habit, that hath drawn hearts near, Till they grow one-of faith sincere, And all that Love most loves to hear! A music, breathing of the past,
The present, and the time to be, Where Hope and Memory, to the last,
Lengthen out life's true harmony ! Nor long did be, whom call so kind Summon'd away, remain behind; Nor did there need much time to tell
What they-alas, more fallen than he From happiness and heaven-knew well,
His gentler love's short history! Thus did it run—not as he told
The tale himself, but as 't is graved Upon the tablets that, of old,
By Cham were from the deluge saved, All written over with sublime
And saddening legends of the unblest But glorious spirits of that time,
And this young Angel's 'mong the rest.
THIRD ANGEL'S STORY.
Among the Spirits, of pure flame,
That round the Almighty Throne abide Circles of light, that from the same
Eternal centre sweeping wide,
Carry its beams on every side (Like spheres of air that waft around The undulations of rich sound.)