Classic Poem

No matter, now;
Rejoined the angel monarch, smiling bright
On her confederated beguilers round:
Who smoothly sanctioned every pearly word
That beauteous and imperial rebel spake; —
My temple is my heart. My seat is fixed
Here in the midst of friends; and by this crown —
Each gem a sacred talisman of power,
Or amulet protective from all harm, —
Wrought by the spirits of the elements
And wondrously endowed, — I swear, and be
The oath, as death, irrevocable — I,
The dull alliance ye design abjure.
Nor Lord, nor living equal shall be mine.
Depart, and let him know our fixed resolve.

Incipient murmurs of applause ran round
The lustrous throng — when lo! an omen strange.

While yet she spake, the jewels of her crown
Erewhile obtested, in the sight of all

Dropped, several, down, — a sadly splendid lapse
Like meteor showers autumnal in the skies, —
Whose fancied virtues in her false esteem
Were that which made her royal; down they fell
And but enriched the dust.

With deep dismay
She eyed the empty sockets — and was still.
Stricken with shame, too, slowly slid away
That parasitic court.

The younger, then,
Who at her sister's feet her seat still sought; —
O Sister! O divine one! O most dear!
There is a jewel more than worth all these —
These but the shining rubbish of a wreck.
Wilt thou not seek it? 'Tis, for asking, thine; —
A friend there is — a lover — one most true,
Who would not thus desert thee, though it had been
Thyself, by judgment, hurled into the dust —
But there he would have comforted thee.

No more!
Said the haught Empress, I have cast my lot; —
Then hurried from her throne and disappeared.

Next came the crime of crimes with curses crowned,
Staggering precipitate. No lack was there
Of direful sign and portent; chief was this —
Each day grew murker, for the light of truth
Suns those serenest firmaments; and all
The falsehoods each one uttered, lie by lie,
Rolled into rings of darkness round their heads —
Till the conglomerate gloom obscured the day,
And each one so infringed the other's view
That contact in collision ceased. And still,
With gathering shades the stranger spirits grew
Still lovelier, and, like light outletting flowers,
Glowed in the lengthening eve; and oft at night
As the stars streamed their silver radiance forth —
Alternating with azure and all gems —
Or as in nacrine blent in one soft blaze,
Their rosy bowers they trimmed; and training low
The honied wreaths, heavy with odorous dew, —
Warbled a vesper song, inviting mirth
And amicable converse in the shade.
There likewise they averred to serve their God —
Whose living emblem dwelt, they said, among them —
With natural worship and symbolic rites
Of souls regenerated; there impart
The esoteric truths which nature veiled,
Of the one triplicative essence; there —
All cosmogonic and theurgic lore,
Without consideration, open free
To the enraptured eye — and but for one
Prostration of the spirit duly made,
The sacred fire and secrets of the stars.
Night after night these proffers were proclaimed —
And mysteries more enchanting still, with smiles,
Hinting of happier revelations yet,
When those they loved were perfected in faith.

These smiles at first were answered but with smiles,
Incredulous, rebuking. See, said they,
In impious invocation of that doom,
How the night lengthens we have brought with us; —
Permitted to this end, that out of night
And preternatural darkness such as this,
May spring that luminous vision we enjoy,
And in ourselves create, of things divine.
Partake ye with us. Thus they tempted on.
Wonder at last awoke desire.

Among
The original seed angelic, was a sage
Of dominant lineage — for undated years
Prime counsellor of good — who oft had urged
Obedience, and reproof on all who erred
In listening to the promissory guests,
One wasted atom, even, of an hour —
And most deplored their advent. Him it seemed

Good to the Great One — who controls all life,
And circumscribes all action, so to prove
His further ends superior — to permit
One moment's fragile converse with the spirit
Chief of those voluntary visitants,
Who lay reclined on fragrant flowers, as though
Dreaming, yet only half dissolved in sleep; —
The radiant chaplet drooping, and the zone
Caerulean, featly tricked with semblant stars,
Unloosened for repose.

Midnight was on the earth; the zenith moon
Shone out in cloudless pomp, broad, lovely, lone
The sounds of man were silent; on the hill,
Along the vale, all but the breeze was still,
And it was but the breath that served to shake
Sighs and sweet murmurings from the hawthorn brake;
The vault above was sapphire, heavenly blue,
The brightness that the eye seems looking through
When the eye is half mind; and wild, and far,
As if it found a guide in each lone star,
It wanders through the heaven, rapt, dreaming on
To the bright gates where all it loved are gone.

But hark! a bell's slow toll! and far below
Winds through the moonlight vale a train of woe.
The pomp is royal; on the nearer glance
Move sable riders, glitter helm and lance;
Thunders the heavy gun; beneath the trees
Wave banners; tall, dark plumage meets the breeze;
And now glares out — a hearse! — her shadowy throne
Whose palace is the grave, — the last, chill one!
The train moved up the hill; though on it stood
That anxious night the countless multitude,
There was no voice among them; tears must tell —
What words have never told, — the heart's farewell