Classic Poem

Once again I was uplifted
High in air, but now my spirit
Wing'd (methought) beside the Devil
Like a kestrel by an Eagle:

Strength and insight grew within me,
Tho' my heart was sick with sorrow,
As we hover'd for an instant
O'er the silent lamplit City!

Far beneath on lonely bridges
I beheld the outcast women,
Sisters sad of lust and midnight,
Wandering weary and forlorn.

Over palaces and prisons,
Over hospitals and brothels,
Wheresoever Hell is burning,
Flew I, wafted as on wings.

From the tainted founts of Being
I beheld the new-born rising,
Sick, sin-bloated scum of infants
Fashion'd out of shameful slime;

What the dead men and the dying
Sow'd in shame these reaped in sorrow,—
Thick as bubbles on a cauldron
They were coming, breaking, going;

Over waters black with tempest,
Where the ships were lightning-riven,
Where the terror-stricken seamen,
Sinking, shrieked aloud to God!

Over plains where ghostly armies
Came and went, and smote each other,
While the priests from the high places
Cried them on, and waved the Cross;

Over silent legions waiting
For the nod of moonstruck rulers;
Over countries famine-smitten;
Over cities foul with plague;

Wheresoever Hell is burning
I was wafted!—From mine eyrie
I beheld the exiles crawling
To the black Siberian mine;

Shrieks of men and wails of women
Fill'd the air with lamentation,
While the Cossack cold and silent
Plied the knout and joined the chain.

I beheld the lonely Leper,
With his face to heaven uplifted
Blotted out of human likeness,
Crawling to his nameless grave.

I beheld the armèd Arab
Ravishing the black man's village
I beheld the red race dying
Dumbly, like a deer at bay.

Everywhere the strong man triumph'd!
Everywhere the weak lay smitten!
Everywhere the gifts of Godhead
Rain'd on over-laden hands!

Everywhere (and this was strangest)
Priests were praying, men were kneeling,
Everywhere the broken martyrs
Lifted piteous eyes to Heaven!

Wheresoever Hell is burning
I was wafted! And the bale-fires,
Fed with human lives for ever,
Burnt from Europe to Cathay.

… Like strange forms reflected darkly
In the glass of a Magician,
Ever flitting, ever fading,
Gleam'd the ghastly shapes of Sheol!

Till my soul grew faint within me
And again the air around me,
Ev'n as seas around the drowning,
Swung, and sense and sight departed.