Long time upon the bed of pain he lay, Bow'd their meek heads beneath the Jesuits' sway, And lived and died in filial servitude. I love thus uncontroll'd, as in a dream, To muse upon the course of human things; Exploring sometimes the remotest springs, Far as tradition lends one guiding gleam; Or following, upon Thought's audacious wings, Into Futurity, the endless stream. But now, in quest of no ambitious height, I go where Truth and Nature lead my way, And ceasing here from desultory flight, In measured strains I tell a Tale of Paraguay. CANTO I. 1. JENNER! forever shall thy honor'd name Among the children of mankind be bless'd, Who by thy skill hast taught us how to tame One dire disease, - the lamentable pest Which Africa sent forth to scourge the West, As if in vengeance for her sable brood So many an age remorselessly oppress'd. For that most fearful malady subdued Receive a poet's praise, a father's gratitude. 2. Fair promise be this triumph of an age When Man, with vain desires no longer blind, And wise, though late, his only war shall wage, Against the miseries which afflict mankind, Striving with virtuous heart and strenuous mind Till evil from the earth shall pass away. Lo, this his glorious destiny assign'd! For that bless'd consummation let us pray, And trust in fervent faith, and labor as we may. 3. The hideous malady which lost its power When Jenner's art the dire contagion stay'd, Among Columbia's sons, in fatal hour, Across the wide Atlantic wave convey'd, Oh! better thus with earth to have their part, Than in Egyptian catacombs to lie, Age after age preserved by horrid art, In ghastly image of humanity! 14. One pair alone survived the general fate; Left in such drear and mournful solitude, That death might seem a preferable state. Not more depress'd the Arkite patriarch stood, When landing first on Ararat he view'd, Where all around the mountain summits lay, Like islands seen amid the boundless flood: Nor our first parents more forlorn than they, Through Eden when they took their solitary way. Were ranged, and on the ground the fires were dress'd; Strange pride that with corruption thus would | Alas, that populous hive hath now no living guest! vie ! And strange delusion that would thus maintain 19. A few firm stakes they planted in the ground, Circling a narrow space, yet large enow; These, strongly interknit, they closed around The water, or the aerial solitude, Jaguar or vulture, water-wolf or snake, The beast that prowls abroad in search of blood, Or reptile that within the treacherous brake Waits for the prey, upcoil'd, its hunger to aslake. 42. Now soften'd as their spirits were by love, Abhorrent from such thoughts they turn'd away; And with a happier feeling, from the dove, They named the child Yeruti. On a day, When, smiling at his mother's breast in play, They in his tones of murmuring pleasure heard A sweet resemblance of the stock-dove's lay, Fondly they named him from that gentle bird; And soon such happy use endear'd the fitting word. 43. Days past, and moons have wax'd and waned, and still This dovelet, nestled in their leafy bower, Obtains increase of sense, and strength, and will, As in due order many a latent power Expands, humanity's exalted dower; And they, while thus the days serenely fled, Beheld him flourish like a vigorous flower, Which, lifting from a genial soil its head, By seasonable suns and kindly showers is fed. 44. Erelong the cares of helpless babyhood The imitative lips essay to trace Their words, observant both with eye and ear, In mutilated sounds which parents love to hear. 45. Serenely thus the seasons pass away; Five years have since Yeruti's birth gone by, Five happy years; -and ere the Moon which then Hung like a Sylphid's light canoe on high Should fill its circle, Monnema, again, Laying her burden down, must bear a mother's pain. 46. Alas, a keener pang, before that day, To roam the wilds, as he was wont, one morn; CANTO II. 1. O THOU who, listening to the Poet's song, Dost yield thy willing spirit to his sway, Look not that I should painfully prolong The sad narration of that fatal day With tragic details; all too true the lay! Nor is my purpose e'er to entertain The heart with useless grief; but, as I may, Blend in my calm and meditative strain Consolatory thoughts, the balm for real pain. 2. O Youth or Maiden, whosoe'er thou art, Safe in my guidance may thy spirit be; I wound not wantonly the tender heart; And if sometimes a tear of sympathy Should rise, it will from bitterness be freeYea, with a healing virtue be endued, As thou, in this true tale, shalt hear from me Of evils overcome, and grief subdued, And virtues springing up like flowers in solitude. 3. The unhappy Monnema, when thus bereft, Sunk not beneath the desolating blow. Widow'd she was; but still her child was left; For him must she sustain the weight of woe, Which else would in that hour have laid her low. Nor wish'd she now the work of death complete; Then only doth the soul of woman know Its proper strength, when love and duty ineet; Invincible the heart wherein they have their seat. |