Classic Poem

NIGHT THE SEVENTH

Shall sons of Æther, shall the Blood of Heav'n,
Set up their Hopes on Earth, and stable here,
With brutal Acquiescence in the Mire?
Lorenzo, no! they shall be nobly pain'd;
The glorious Foreigners, distrest, shall sigh
On Thrones; and Thou congratulate the Sigh:
Man's Misery declares him born for Bliss;
His anxious Heart asserts the Truth I sing,
And gives the Sceptic in his Head the Lye
*
Man's Heart eats all Things, and is hungry still;
" More, more," the Glutton cries: For something New
So rages Appetite, if man can't Mount,
He will Descend. He starves on the Possest.
Hence, the World's Master, from Ambition's Spire,
In Caprea plung'd; and div'd beneath the Brute
In that rank Sty why wallow'd Empire's Son
Supreme? because he could no higher fly;
His Riot was Ambition in Despair.
*
Could I believe Lorenzo's system true,
In this black Channel would my Ravings run:. . .
'O for Delusion! O for Error still!
Could Vengeance strike much stronger, than to plant
A Thinking Being in a World like This,
Not over-rich before, now beggar'd quite;
More curst than at the Fall? — The Sun goes out!
The Thorns shoot up! What Thorns in ev'ry Thought!
Why Sense of Better? It imbitters Worse.
Why Sense? why Life? If but to sigh, then sink
To what I was? Twice Nothing! and much Woe!
Woe, from Heav'n's Bounties! Woe, from what was wont
To flatter most, high Intellectual Pow'rs
Thought, Virtue, Knowledge! Blessings, by thy Scheme,
All poison'd into Pains. First, Knowledge, once
My Soul's Ambition, now her greatest Dread.
To know myself, true Wisdom? — No, to shun
That shocking Science, Parent of Despair!
Avert thy Mirror; If I see, I die!
*
Duty! Religion! — These, our Duty done,
Imply Reward Religion is Mistake.
Duty? — There's none, but to repel the Cheat
Ye Cheats! away; ye Daughters of my Pride!
Who feign yourselves the Fav'rites of the Skies:
Ye tow'ring Hopes! abortive Energies!
That toss, and struggle, in my lying Breast,
To scale the Skies, and build Presumptions There,
As I were Heir of an Eternity;
Vain, vain Ambitions! trouble me no more.
Why travel far in Quest of sure Defeat?
As bounded as my Being, be my Wish.
All is inverted, Wisdom is a Fool
Sense! take the Rein! blind Passion! drive us on;
And, Ignorance! befriend us on our Way;
Ye new, but truest Patrons of our Peace!
Yes; give the Pulse full Empire; live the Brute,
Since, as the Brute, we die. The Sum of Man,
Of Godlike man! to revel, and to rot
*
O give Eternity! or Thought destroy —
But without Thought our Curse were half unfelt;
Its blunted edge would spare the throbbing Heart.
*
How the Grave's alter'd? Fathomless, as Hell!
A real Hell to Those who dreamt of Heav'n.
Annihilation! How it yawns before me?
Next Moment I may drop from Thought, from Sense,
The Privilege of Angels, and of Worms,
An Outcast from Existence! And this Spirit,
This all-pervading, this all-conscious Soul,
This Particle of Energy divine,
Which travels Nature, flies from Star to Star,
And visits Gods, and emulates their Pow'rs,
For ever is extinguisht. Horror! Death!
Death of that Death I fearless, once, survey'd.
When Horror Universal shall descend,
And Heaven's dark Concave urn all Human Race,
On that enormous, unrefunding Tomb,
How just this Verse? this monumental Sigh!
Beneath the Lumber of demolisht Worlds,
Deep in the Rubbish of the gen'ral Wreck,
Swept Ignominious to the common Mass
Of Matter, never dignify'd with Life,
Here lie proud Rationals; The Sons of Heav'n!
The Lords of Earth! The Property of Worms!
Beings of Yesterday, and no To-morrow!
Who lived in Terror, and in Pangs expir'd!
All gone to rot in Chaos; or, to make
Their happy Transit into Blocks, or Brutes,
No longer sully their Creator's name.

NIGHT THE SEVENTH

Shall sons of Æther, shall the Blood of Heav'n,
Set up their Hopes on Earth, and stable here,
With brutal Acquiescence in the Mire?
Lorenzo, no! they shall be nobly pain'd;
The glorious Foreigners, distrest, shall sigh
On Thrones; and Thou congratulate the Sigh:
Man's Misery declares him born for Bliss;
His anxious Heart asserts the Truth I sing,
And gives the Sceptic in his Head the Lye
*
Man's Heart eats all Things, and is hungry still;
" More, more," the Glutton cries: For something New
So rages Appetite, if man can't Mount,
He will Descend. He starves on the Possest.
Hence, the World's Master, from Ambition's Spire,
In Caprea plung'd; and div'd beneath the Brute
In that rank Sty why wallow'd Empire's Son
Supreme? because he could no higher fly;
His Riot was Ambition in Despair.
*

Could I believe Lorenzo's system true,
In this black Channel would my Ravings run:. . .
'O for Delusion! O for Error still!
Could Vengeance strike much stronger, than to plant
A Thinking Being in a World like This,
Not over-rich before, now beggar'd quite;
More curst than at the Fall? — The Sun goes out!
The Thorns shoot up! What Thorns in ev'ry Thought!
Why Sense of Better? It imbitters Worse.
Why Sense? why Life? If but to sigh, then sink
To what I was? Twice Nothing! and much Woe!
Woe, from Heav'n's Bounties! Woe, from what was wont
To flatter most, high Intellectual Pow'rs
Thought, Virtue, Knowledge! Blessings, by thy Scheme,
All poison'd into Pains. First, Knowledge, once
My Soul's Ambition, now her greatest Dread.
To know myself, true Wisdom? — No, to shun
That shocking Science, Parent of Despair!
Avert thy Mirror; If I see, I die!
*

Duty! Religion! — These, our Duty done,
Imply Reward Religion is Mistake.
Duty? — There's none, but to repel the Cheat
Ye Cheats! away; ye Daughters of my Pride!
Who feign yourselves the Fav'rites of the Skies:
Ye tow'ring Hopes! abortive Energies!
That toss, and struggle, in my lying Breast,
To scale the Skies, and build Presumptions There,
As I were Heir of an Eternity;
Vain, vain Ambitions! trouble me no more.
Why travel far in Quest of sure Defeat?
As bounded as my Being, be my Wish.
All is inverted, Wisdom is a Fool
Sense! take the Rein! blind Passion! drive us on;
And, Ignorance! befriend us on our Way;
Ye new, but truest Patrons of our Peace!
Yes; give the Pulse full Empire; live the Brute,
Since, as the Brute, we die. The Sum of Man,
Of Godlike man! to revel, and to rot
*

O give Eternity! or Thought destroy —
But without Thought our Curse were half unfelt;
Its blunted edge would spare the throbbing Heart.
*

How the Grave's alter'd? Fathomless, as Hell!
A real Hell to Those who dreamt of Heav'n.
Annihilation! How it yawns before me?
Next Moment I may drop from Thought, from Sense,
The Privilege of Angels, and of Worms,
An Outcast from Existence! And this Spirit,
This all-pervading, this all-conscious Soul,
This Particle of Energy divine,
Which travels Nature, flies from Star to Star,
And visits Gods, and emulates their Pow'rs,
For ever is extinguisht. Horror! Death!
Death of that Death I fearless, once, survey'd.
When Horror Universal shall descend,
And Heaven's dark Concave urn all Human Race,
On that enormous, unrefunding Tomb,
How just this Verse? this monumental Sigh!
Beneath the Lumber of demolisht Worlds,
Deep in the Rubbish of the gen'ral Wreck,
Swept Ignominious to the common Mass
Of Matter, never dignify'd with Life,
Here lie proud Rationals; The Sons of Heav'n!
The Lords of Earth! The Property of Worms!
Beings of Yesterday, and no To-morrow!
Who lived in Terror, and in Pangs expir'd!
All gone to rot in Chaos; or, to make
Their happy Transit into Blocks, or Brutes,
No longer sully their Creator's name.