« 前へ次へ »
Withdrew into the depths of gloom;
Cherub and Seraph pace The horror of that awful doom
The illimitable space, Quench'd for three hours the noontide While sleep the folded plumes from their light,
white shoulders swelling. And wrapt the guilt-shak'n earth in deep From all the harping throng untimely night.
Bursts the tumultuous song, Heath. Now glory to the God, that Like the unceasing sounds of cataracts wakes
pouring, With vengeance in his fiery speed, Hosanna o'er Hosanna louder soaring ; To wreak his wrath impatient breaks That faintly echoing down to earthly On every guilty godless head ;
ears, Hasty he mounts his early road,
Hath seem'd the concert sweet of the harAnd pours his brightest beams abroad :
monious spheres. And looks down fierce with jocund light Still my rape spirit mounts, To see his fane avenged, his vindicated rite. And lo! beside the founts Chris. Now glory to the Christ, whose Of flowing light Christ's chosen Saints * love
reclining; Even now prepares our scats of rest,
Distinct amid the blaze And in his golden courts above
Their palm-crown'd heads they Enrolls us 'mid his chosen blest;
raise, Even now our martyr robes of light Their white robes even through that o'erAre weaving of heaven's purest white ;
powering lustre shining. And we, before thy course is done,
Each in his place of state, Shall shine more bright than thou, oh Long the bright Twelve have sate, vainly-worshipp'd Şun!
O'er the celestial Sion high uplifted ;
While those with deep prophetic raptures We shall conclude with a very long
gifted, extract, being the whole of the last
Where Life's glad river rolls its tidetwenty pages of Mr Milman's volume.
less streams, The reader is to understand that Oly- Enjoy the full completion of their heavenbius, the prefect, has entrusted the
ly dreams. superintendance of the execution to Again-I see again Vopiscus, under the notion that Mar- The great victorious train, garita's resolution would certainly fail
The Martyr Army from their toils rewhen she came into the actual contact
The blood-red robes they wear of mortal agony, and had witnessed
Empurpling all the air, the sufferings of her companions. Even their immortal limbs, the signs of Margarita, seized with a sudden
wounds disclosing. transport of holy enthusiasm, strikes Oh, holy Stephen ! thou the strings of the sacred lyre of Apol- Art there, and on thy brow lo, and while all around are in hopes Hast still the placid smile it wore in she has reverted to the religion of her
dying, temple, she sings as follows :
When under the heap'd stones in an.
guish lying Mar. What means yon blaze on Thy clasping hands were fondly spread high?
to heaven, The empyrean sky
And thy last accents pray'd thy foes might Like the rich veil of some proud fane
Beyond ! ah, who is there
With the white snowy hair !
'Tis he'tis he, the Son of Man apEven to the highest height in burning rows
At the right hand of One,
The darkness of whose throne
awe and fearing. parting,
O'er him the rainbow springs, Like Aames from midnight conflagration
And spreads its emerald wings, starting;
Down to the glassy sea his loftiest seat Behold! the appointed messengers
o'erarching are they,
Hark—thunders from his throne, like And nearest earth they wait to waft our
steel-clad armies marchingsouls away.
The Christ ! the Christ commands us Higher and higher still
to his home! More lofty statures fill
Jesus, Redeemer, Lord, we come, we come, The jasper courts of the everlasting
But the calm victim look'd upon the peo
ple, Blasphemy! blasphemy ! She doth pro- Piled o’er each other in the thronging fane
seats, Great Phæbus' raptures-tear her off! And utter'd these strange words_Alas! Olybius. Ha ! slaves,
lost souls, Would ye usurp our judgment throne ? There's one that fiercer than yon brinded Macer. Be calm.
lion, Callias. Alas! what mean ye, friends ? Is prowling round, insatiate to devourcan such a voice
Nought more we heard, but one long saOffend you ? Oh, my child! thou'rt for. ced to leave me,
Of the huge monster as he sprung, and But not to leave me with averted eye,
then As though thy father's face were hateful The grinding of his ravening jaws. to thee.
The above. Second Officer. But yet I dare not chide thee, and I will
And what hast thou to say ? I do remember, when thy mother pass'd
Calanthias died I hid my face in my cold shuddering hands, But still I gaze on thee, and gaze as though Beneath the scourge; his look toward the
sky, There were a joy in seeing thee even thus. Olyb. Maeer, thou know'st their sepa.
As though he thought the golden clouds
conceal'd rate doom. Lead off The victims, each to his appointed place.
Some slow avenger of his cause.
Vopiscus. The voice of triumph clamours The Lord Almighty doth but take the mor- And Phæbus' name is mingled with the
up the skies, tal life he giveth.
shouts Glory! Glory! Glory! the Lord Al. mighty reigneth,
Call. Can it be? He who forfeits earthly life, a life celestial gaineth.
The above. Third Officer, Cal. Why do ye hold me back ?-My Th. Off
Apollo triumphs ! child! they bind me
Call. Thou sayst not so, she will not With the hard fetters of their arms-thou sacrifice hear'st not.
My child ! I look'd not yet for this. Speak ! have ye children ? have ye ever
What's here? heard An infant voice that murmur'd to you
The above. Charinus. • Father!'
Call. Back, thou foul wretch! I rush'd
not forth to thee. Ye Gods, how have ye peopled this fierce Antioch,
Char. Foul wretch, indeed! I have for. That the fond natural love of child and pa- The blinding flames scorch'd up into mine
sworn my God. rent Is made a crime !
eyes ; Howl, howl ; ay, bloody men,
And the false devils murmur'd all around Howl in y: Amphitheatre with joy ; Glut your insatiate hearts with human Soft sounds of water. blood.
Hurry him away! -Nay, ruthless Prefect, thou'st not sent
On to the altar !
Io! Io Pæan !
Io Triumphe !
Char. Hah! they point at me,
brethren, 'Twas he, thou saidst ?
That mount in radiance : ere they're lost Officer, Diodotus, great Prefect.
in light, In the arena, as became a soldier, With sad, and solemn, and reproachful He stood with undiscolour'd cheek, while voices lay
They call me Judas–Judas, that betray'd, The crouching lion stiffening all his màne, That murder'd his blest master and himWith his white-gleaming teeth, and lash- selfing tail,
Accurst of men and outcast from thy fold, Scourging to life the slumbering wrath Oh Christ ! and for my pride ? why then
My soul in stern obduracy, and live
Olyb. Speak, and instantly, As jocund as the careless Heathen here. Or I will dash thee down, and trample No Peter's tears fill my dry eyes ; no beam from thee Of mercy on my darkening soul-On, on- Thy hideous secret. And I will laugh, and in my laughter sing Officer. It is nothing hideous Io Triumphe ! Io Pæan!
'Tis but the enemy of our faith She died Olyb.
Now Nobly, in truth_butGive him the knife of sacrifice.
Call. Dead ! she is not dead ! Char.
Down ! Down ! Thou liest! I have his oath, the Prefect's 'Tis wet, and reeks with my Redeemer's blood.
I had forgot it in my fears, but now Officer. He's fled.
I well remember, that she should not die. Olyb. Go after--drag him back. Faugh! who will trust in Gods and men Oficer. 'Tis vain.
like these ? He cried aloud_“ The devil hath wrestled Olyb. Slave ! Slave! dost mock me ? with me,
Better 'twere for thee And vanquish'd !”—and he plunged the That this be false, than if thou'dst found
To purchase kingdoms.
Hear me but a while. Who dared not die-yet fear'd to live. She had beheld each sad and cruel death,
But pause And if she shudder’d, 'twas as one that What means this deathlike stillness ? not strives a sound
With nature's soft infirmity of pity, Or murmur from yon countless multitudes. One look to heaven restoring all her calmA pale contagious horror seems to creep ness; Even to our presence. Men gaze mutely Save when that dastard did renounce his round,
faith, As in their neighbour's face to read the And she shed tears for him. Then led they secret
forth They dare not speak themselves. Old Fabius. When a quick and sudden cry
Old man ! whence comest thou? Of Callias, and a parting in the throng, What is't?
Proclaim'd lier father's coming. Forth she Call. I know not ! I approach'd the sprang, place
And clasp'd the frowning headsman's Of sacrifice, and my spirit shrank within knees, and said me ;
“ Thou kriow'st me ; when thou laid'st on And I came back, I know not how.
thy sick bed,
Still mute! Christ sent me there to wipe thy burning Even thus along his vast domain of silence brow. Dark Pluto gazes, where the sullen spirits There was an infant play'd about thy Speak only with fix'd looks, and voiceless chamber, motions
And thy pale cheek would smile and weep And ye are like them.-Speak to me, I at once, charge you,
Gazing upon that almost orphan'd child Nor let mine own voice, like an evil omen, Oh! by its dear and precious memory, Load the hot air, unanswer'd.
I do bəseech thee, slay me first and quickly: Call.
'Tis that my father may not see my death. Vop.
Didst hear it! Call. Oh cruel kindness! and I would That shriek, as though some barbarous foe have closed had scaled
Thine eyes with such a fond and gentle The city walls.
pressure ; Olyb. Is't horror or compassion ? I would have smooth'd thy beauteous limbs, Or both ?
and laid The above. Fourth Officer. My head upon thy breast, and died with Ołyb. What means thy hurried look ? thee. Speak-speak !
Olyb. Good father ! once I thought to Though thy words blast like lightning. call thee so, Oficer.
Mighty Prefect, How do I envy thee this her last fondness ! The apostate Priestess Margarita She had no dying thought of me.-Go on. Olyb.
How ? Officer. With that the headsman wiped Where's Macer?
from his swarth cheeks Officer. By the dead.
A moisture like to tears. But she, mean. Otye. What dead ?
Remove On the cold block composed her head, and Thy sword, which thou dost brandish at cross'd my throat,
Her hands upon her bosom, that scarce And I shall answer.
She was so tranquil; cautious, lest her Embolden'd multitudes from every quarter garments
Throng forth, and in the face of day proShould play the traitors to her modest care. claim And as the cold wind touch'd her naked Their lawless faith. They have ta'en up neck,
the body, And fann'd away the few unbraided hairs, And hither, as in proud ovation, bear it Blushes o’erspread her face, and she look'd With clamour and with song. All Antioch up
crowds As softly to reproach his tardiness : Applauding round them—they are here, And some fell down upon their knees, behold them. sone clasp'd
Christian Hymn. Their hands, enamour'd even to adoration Of that half-smiling face and bending Sing to the Lord ! let harp, and lute, and
voice form. Call. But he—but he the savage exe.
Up to the expanding gates of Heaven re
While the bright Martyrs to their rest Officer. He trembled.
are borne ; Call. Ha ! God's blessing on his head ! And the axe slid from out his palsied Sing to the Lord! their blood-stain'a
course is run, hand ?
And every head its diadem hath won, Oficer. He gave it to another.
Rich as the purple of the summer morn; Call. And Officer. It fell.
Sing the triumphant champions of their
I see it,
While burn their mounting feet along their And the blood bursts my blood !--my
sky-ward road. daughter's blood ! Off_let me loose.
Sing to the Lord ! for her in Beauty's prime Officer. Where goest thou ?
Snatch'd from this wintery earth's ungenial Call. To the Christian,
clime, To learn the faith in which my daughter
In the eternal spring of Paradise to
bloom ; died, And follow her as quickly as I may.
For her the world display'd its brightest
treasure, Olybins, Macer, and the rest. And the airs panted with the songs of Olyb. Macer! is this thy faithful ser- pleasure. vice?
Before earth's throne she chose the lowly Macer.
tomb, So rapid
The vale of tears with willing footsteps trod, Olyb. Not a word ! Thou think'st I'll Bearing her Cross with thee, incarnate Son stoop
of God! To dash thee to the earth_But I'm so sick Of this accursed pomp, I will not use Sing to the Lord ! it is not shed in vain, Its privilege of vengeance.
The blood of martyrs ! from its freshening Fatal trappings
rain Of proud authority, that like the robe High springs the Church like some fountOf Nessus shine and burn into the en- shadowing palm ; trails!
The nations crowd beneath its branching Supremacy ! whose great prerogative
shade, Is to be blasted by superior misery! Of its green leaves are kingly diadems No more will I possess the fatal power
made, Of murdering those I love. All-ruling And wrapt within its deep embosoming sceptre !
calm That wert mine instrument of bloodshed, Earth sinks to slumber like the breezeless down!
deep, Mine hand shall never grasp thee more. And war's tempestuous vultures fold their Vopiscus,
wings and sleep. Assume the vacant Prefect's seat, and be Curst like myself—with sway–I cannot Sing to the Lord ! no more the Angels fly wish thee
Far in the bosom of the stainless sky A doom more hateful
The sound of fierce licentious sacrifice. Who comes here? From shrined alcove, and stately pedestal, Officer.
Great Prefect! The marble Gods in cumbrous ruin fall, The enchantress Margarita by her death Headless in dust the awe of nations lies; Hath wrought upon the changeful popu- Jove's thunder crumbles in his mouldering lace,
hand, That they cry loudly on the Christian's And mute as sepulchres the hymnless tem. God.
no morn :
Sing to the Lord ! from damp prophetie splendour of art and nature, and a
heart which is capable of being rouNo more the loose-hair'd Sybils burst and sed by the trumpet-note of passion. rave;
He has also an ear delicately susNor watch the augurs pale the wander. ceptible to the charms of harmony; ing bird :
and, in a word, he possesses many of No more on hill or in the murky wood, Mid frantic shout and dissonant music the finest elements which can enter inrude,
to the composition of a poet. But he In human tones are wailing victims must not stop here, as he seems but heard ;
too likely to do: He must not listen Nor fathers by the reeking altar stone to the harpings of partiality and praise, Cowl their dark heads t'escape their child. until his spirit is quite asleep under ren's dying groan.
their fascinating influences. He must
look more abroad over the world, and Sing to the Lord ! no more the dead are still more needful, he must look deeper laid
within himself. He must consider In cold despair beneath the shade, To sleep the eternal sleep, that knows calmly and leisurely what literature is
—what has been done-what remains There, eager still to burst death's brazen to be done—what can be done-and bands,
having opened some new field for The Angel of the Resurrection stands ; himself, he must give himself like a While, on its own immortal pinions man to its cultivation. borne,
If he proceeds, as he has hitherto Following the Breaker of the emprisoning been doing, he will never be any thing tomb,
more than the Oxford Professor of PoeForth springs the exulting soul, and shakes try. If he does himself justice, he may away its gloom.
very probably, but not very easily, win
to himself a lasting place among the Sing to the Lord ! the desert rocks break
true poets of England. out, And the throng’d cities, in one gladdening thing to be respected and admired in
It is no doubt a very honourable shout; The farthest shores by pilgrim step ex.
one of the first universities in the plored ;
world; but Mr Milman ought to reSpread all your wings, ye winds, and waft collect, that Mr Hayley was just as around,
much the idol of Commoners' and FelEven to the starry cope's pale waping low-commoners' worship, thirty years bound,
ago, as he himself is now. Even LaEarth's universal homage to the Lord; dy Hervey, the clever, sensible Lady Lift up thine head, imperial Capitol, Proud on thy height to see the banner'd letters, of meeting with a young gen
Hervey, talks, in one of her admirable cross unroll.
tleman destined to be “ the Pope, or Sing to the Lord ! when Time itself shall perhaps something better, of the age;" cease,
and this sort of cant rung from one And final Ruin's desolating peace side of England to the other, until Mr Enwrap this wide and restless world of Hayley died, and his works followed man ;
him. Mr Milman lives in another When the Judge rides upon the enthroning sort of age from that in which Haywind,
ley appeared ; but although we have And o'er all generations of mankind
no doubt he is a man of higher naEternal Vengeance waves its winnowing tural powers than Mr Hayley, we To vast Infinity's remotest space,
are quite certain, that thirty years · While ages run their everlasting race,
hence he will just be as little thought Shall all the Beatific Hosts prolong,
of, even at Oxford, as Mr Hayley is Wide as the glory of the Lamb, the Lamb's now, unless he do really take in kiudtriumphant song!
ness what is meant both kindly and
earnestly, and avoid coming before the The author of these verses has un- public of England again, until he has questionably a fine eye for external something to bring with him, which
What does our correspondent mean by “ admirable letters.?” If he had bestowed the epithet “ admirable" on the notes of Lady Hervey's editor, we should have agreed with him.-C. N.