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Exhuméd lamp, lo, with what fiery flashes
The eyes of Light, thine ancient father, greet thee,
As now, (a thousand years entombed in ashes,)
Rescued from Night, his foe, again they meet thee!
Long hadst thou been, and well, thy office bearing,
Thy coal-black mouth tells the praiseworthy story;
Like the bleached skulls of ancient warriors, wearing
Full many a battle-field's deep scars of glory.
Did once thy light beside Love's couch hang gleaming?
Then wast thou like a skiff on midnight's ocean,
Thy flame the little flag on board, that, streaming,
Guides to the port of love with tremulous motion.
Perchance thy luminous shrine once faintly gladdened,
Like midnight sunrise, one of those old sages,
Whose heart, by human sorrow deeply saddened,
Sought the bright track of bliss, unknown for ages!
Then wast thou like the car of Phœbus, warming
Heart's-roses all to life in morn's dominions,
Around whose wheels, like larks at day-break swarming,
Young thoughts, new-wakened, shook their rosy pinions.
The roses grew to wreaths, around the hoary
Old temple of the Gods earth's beauty flinging,
The larks, as wingéd minstrels, hymned the glory
Of those old Gods themselves, in heaven high singing.
So leaned o'er the stone slab with crookéd shoulder
The nodding sage, as if he would be proving
Whether the marble or his brow were colder?—
Still its old load of woe the earth is moving!
Another came; thy light-shrine, lamp, is lending
Its lustre to another of the sages,
Whose heart, beneath man's load of sorrow bending,
Seeks the bright track of bliss, unfound for ages.
This time was thou a Golgotha, dark-glowing,
On which, exulting at the lurid flashes,
The forms of fair, old Gods he sate there throwing,
To vanish like dry chaff in dust and ashes!
And still he eyed with joy the crackling flashes,—
But when on that black altar looked the morrow,
He, too, dry branch of life's great tree, was ashes!—
And earth still rolls her ancient load of sorrow!
Another came; thy Pharos, lamp, is shining
To guide and cheer one of the later sages,
Whose heart, o'er human misery repining,
Explores the track of bliss, unfound for ages.
Thou wast the glory, then, in which, revealing
The spirit's destiny, Christ's cross rose o'er him,
Whose holy light, the long-closed tombs unsealing,
Dawned on the fields of time that stretched before him!
When closed his eye, still, as if Death's mild finger
Had touched his face with a transfiguring glory,
A heavenly radiance on his brow did linger!—
Still tells the rolling earth her old sad story!
And now, unlit, Pompeii's lamp sees, poring
Over his desk, one of the modern sages,
Whose eye, the dark Papyrus lines exploring,
Traces the far, bright track of former ages.
Awakened from two thousand years' entombing,
A giant Spring-rose-Phœnix leaps with greeting
From the Papyrus cinders,—while fresh-blooming,
Lo, his own Spring before his door is fleeting!
Man, feed the lamp with oil, that it may glisten
And fill the temple courts of light with glory,
And thou once more the old riddle search, and listen!
Still tells the groaning earth her old sad story!
The eyes of Light, thine ancient father, greet thee,
As now, (a thousand years entombed in ashes,)
Rescued from Night, his foe, again they meet thee!
Long hadst thou been, and well, thy office bearing,
Thy coal-black mouth tells the praiseworthy story;
Like the bleached skulls of ancient warriors, wearing
Full many a battle-field's deep scars of glory.
Did once thy light beside Love's couch hang gleaming?
Then wast thou like a skiff on midnight's ocean,
Thy flame the little flag on board, that, streaming,
Guides to the port of love with tremulous motion.
Perchance thy luminous shrine once faintly gladdened,
Like midnight sunrise, one of those old sages,
Whose heart, by human sorrow deeply saddened,
Sought the bright track of bliss, unknown for ages!
Then wast thou like the car of Phœbus, warming
Heart's-roses all to life in morn's dominions,
Around whose wheels, like larks at day-break swarming,
Young thoughts, new-wakened, shook their rosy pinions.
The roses grew to wreaths, around the hoary
Old temple of the Gods earth's beauty flinging,
The larks, as wingéd minstrels, hymned the glory
Of those old Gods themselves, in heaven high singing.
So leaned o'er the stone slab with crookéd shoulder
The nodding sage, as if he would be proving
Whether the marble or his brow were colder?—
Still its old load of woe the earth is moving!
Another came; thy light-shrine, lamp, is lending
Its lustre to another of the sages,
Whose heart, beneath man's load of sorrow bending,
Seeks the bright track of bliss, unfound for ages.
This time was thou a Golgotha, dark-glowing,
On which, exulting at the lurid flashes,
The forms of fair, old Gods he sate there throwing,
To vanish like dry chaff in dust and ashes!
And still he eyed with joy the crackling flashes,—
But when on that black altar looked the morrow,
He, too, dry branch of life's great tree, was ashes!—
And earth still rolls her ancient load of sorrow!
Another came; thy Pharos, lamp, is shining
To guide and cheer one of the later sages,
Whose heart, o'er human misery repining,
Explores the track of bliss, unfound for ages.
Thou wast the glory, then, in which, revealing
The spirit's destiny, Christ's cross rose o'er him,
Whose holy light, the long-closed tombs unsealing,
Dawned on the fields of time that stretched before him!
When closed his eye, still, as if Death's mild finger
Had touched his face with a transfiguring glory,
A heavenly radiance on his brow did linger!—
Still tells the rolling earth her old sad story!
And now, unlit, Pompeii's lamp sees, poring
Over his desk, one of the modern sages,
Whose eye, the dark Papyrus lines exploring,
Traces the far, bright track of former ages.
Awakened from two thousand years' entombing,
A giant Spring-rose-Phœnix leaps with greeting
From the Papyrus cinders,—while fresh-blooming,
Lo, his own Spring before his door is fleeting!
Man, feed the lamp with oil, that it may glisten
And fill the temple courts of light with glory,
And thou once more the old riddle search, and listen!
Still tells the groaning earth her old sad story!
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