Images de page
PDF
ePub
[blocks in formation]
[merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small]

JAMES MONTGOMERY.

THE WORLD BEFORE THE FLOOD.

TO THE SPIRIT

OF A DEPARTED FRIEND.

MANY, my friend, have mourn'd for Thee,
And yet shall many mourn,
Long as thy name on earth shall be
In sweet remembrance borne,

By those who loved Thee here, and love
Thy Spirit still in realms above.

For while thine absence they deplore,
'Tis for themselves they weep;
Though they behold thy face no more,
In peace thine ashes sleep,

And o'er the tomb they lift their eye,
-Thou art not dead, thou couldst not die.

In silent anguish, O my friend!
When I recall thy worth,
Thy lovely life, thine early end,
I feel estranged from earth;
My soul with thine desires to rest,
Supremely and for ever blest.

In loftier mood, I fain would raise
With my victorious breath
Some fair memorial of thy praise,
Beyond the reach of Death;
Proud wish, and vain!—I cannot give
The word, that makes the dead to live.

And forth in rude spontaneous rhymes
The Song of wonder flow'd;
Pleased but alarm'd, I saw Thee stand,
And check'd the fury of my hand.

That hand with awe resumed the lyre,
I trembled, doubted, fear'd,
Then did thy voice my hope inspire,
My Soul thy presence cheer'd;
But suddenly the light was flown,
I look'd, and found myself alone.

Alone, in sickness, care, and woe,
Since that bereaving day,
With heartless patience, faint and low,
I trill'd the secret lay,

Afraid to trust the bold design
To less indulgent ears than thine.

"Tis done;-nor would I dread to meet
The World's repulsive brow,
Had I presented at thy feet
The Muse's trophy now,

And gain'd the smile I long'd to gain,
The pledge of labour not in vain.

Full well I know, if Thou wert here,
A pilgrim still with me,-
Dear as my theme was once, and dear
As I was once to Thee,-

Too mean to yield Thee pure delight,
The strains that now the world invite.

THOυ art not dead,-Thou could'st not die; Yet could they reach Thee where thou art,

To nobler life new-born,

Thou lookst in pity from the sky

Upon a world forlorn,

Where glory is but dying flame, And Immortality a name.

Yet didst Thou prize the Poet's art;
And when to Thee I sung,
How pure, how fervent from the heart,
The language of thy tongue!
In praise or blame alike sincere,
But still most kind when most severe.

When first this dream of ancient times Warm on my fancy glow'd,

And sounds might Spirits move,
Their better, their diviner part
Thou surely wouldst approve,

Though heavenly thoughts are all thy joy,
And Angel-Songs thy tongue employ.

My task is o'er; and I have wrought,
With self-rewarding toil,

To raise the scatter'd seed of thought
Upon a desart soil:

O for soft winds and clement showers!
I seek not fruit, I planted flowers.

Those flowers I train'd, of many a hue,
Along thy path to bloom,

And little thought, that I must strew
Their leaves upon thy tomb:
-Beyond that tomb I lift mine eye,
Thou art not dead, Thou couldst not die.

Farewell, but not a long farewell;
In heaven may I appear,
The trials of my faith to tell
In thy transported ear,

And sing with Thee the eternal strain,
Worthy the Lamb that once was slain.
January 13th 1813.

fled to the top of a high mountain, an escaped the ruin that involved the rest of their kindred. In the tenth Canto of the poem a hint is borrowed from this tradition. but it is made to yield to the superior a thority of Scripture-testimony.

INTRODUCTORY NOTE.

CANTO I.

EASTWARD of Eden's early-peopled plain
When Abel perish'd by the hand of Cain,
The murderer from his Judge's presence
fled:

Thence to the rising sun his offspring spread
But he, the fugitive of care and guilt,
Forsook the haunts he chose, the homes he
built;

While filial nations hail'd him Sire and Chief
Empire nor honour brought his soul relief;
He found, where'er he roam'd, uncheer'
unblest,

No place having been found, in Asia, to correspond exactly with the Mosaic description of the site of Paradise, the Author of the following Poem has disregarded both the learned and the absurd hypotheses on the subject, and at once imagining an inaccessible tract of land, at the confluence of four rivers, which after their junction take the name of the largest, and become the No pause from suffering, and from toil Euphrates of the ancient world, he has placed the happy garden there. Milton's noble fiction of the Mount of Paradise being removed by the deluge, and push'd

rest.

Ages meanwhile, as ages now are told, O'er the young world in long succession roll'd;

For such the vigour of primeval man,
Through number'd centuries his period ran
And the first Parents saw their hardy race.
O'er the green wilds of habitable space.
By tribes and kindred, scatter'd wide and far
Beneath the track of every varying star.
But as they multiplied from clime to clime
Embolden'd by their elder brother's crime,
They spurn'd obedience to the Patriarch
yoke,

broke;

Down the great river to the opening gulph, and there converted into a barren isle, implies such a change in the water-courses as will, poetically at least, account for the difference between the scene of this story and the present face of the country, at the point where the Tigris and Euphrates meet. On the eastern side of these waters, the Author supposes the descendants of the younger Children of Adam to dwell, possessing the land of Eden: the rest of the world having been gradually colonized by The bands of Nature's fellowship they emigrants from these, or peopled by the posterity of Cain. In process of time, after The weak became the victims of the strong. the Sons of God had formed connexions with And Earth was fill'd with violence and wrong. the daughters of men, and there were Giants on the earth, the latter assumed to be Lords and Rulers over mankind, till among themselves arose One, excelling all his brethren in knowledge and power, who became their King, and by their aid, in the course of a long life, subdued all the inhabited earth, except the land of Eden. This land, at the head of a mighty army, principally composed of the descendants of Cain, he has invaded and conquered, even to the banks of Euphrates, at the opening of the action of the poem. It is only necessary to add, that for the sake of distinction, the invaders are frequently denominated from Cain, as the host of Cain, the force of Cain, the camp of Cain;-and the remnant of the defenders of Eden are, in like manner, denominated from Eden. The Jews have an ancient tradition, that some of the Giants, at the deluge,

Yet long on Eden's fair and fertile plain A righteous nation dwelt, that knew not Cain;

There fruits and flowers, in genial light and
dew,

Luxuriant vines, and golden harvests grew:
By freshening waters flocks and cattle stray d
While Youth and Childhood watch'd them
from the shade;

Age, at his fig-tree, rested from his toil,
And manly vigour till'd the unfailing soil;
Green sprang the turf, by holy footsteps
trod,

Round the pure altars of the living God;
Till foul Idolatry those altars stain`d,
And lust and revelry through Eden reign's
Then fled the people's glory and defence.
The joys of home, the peace of innoces.

Sin brought forth sorrows in perpetual birth, | The embattled floods, by mutual whirlpools And the last light from heaven forsook the crost, earth,

[blocks in formation]

cry,

Roll'd, heedless of their offerings, through

the sky; Till urged on Eden's utmost bounds at length, In fierce despair they rallied all their strength. They fought, but they were vanquish'd in the fight, Captured, or slain, or scatter'd in the flight: The morning-battle-scene at eve was spread With ghastly heaps, the dying and the dead; The dead unmourn'd, unburied left to lie, By friends and foes, the dying left to die. The victim, while he groan'd his soul away Heard the gaunt vulture hurrying to his prey,

Then strengthless felt the ravening beak,

that tore His widen'd wounds, and drank the living gore.

One sole-surviving remnant void of fear, Woods in their front, Euphrates in their rear, Were sworn to perish at a glorious cost, For all they once had known, and loved, and lost;

A small, a brave, a melancholy band,
The orphans, and the childless of the land.
The hordes of Cain, by giant-chieftains led,
Wide o'er the north their vast encampment
spread:

A broad and sunny champaign stretch'd between;

Westward a maze of waters girt the scene; There on Euphrates, in its ancient course, Three beauteous rivers roll'd their confluent force,

Whose streams, while man the blissful garden trod,

Adorn'd the earthly paradise of God;
But since he fell, within their triple bound
Fenced a lone region of forbidden ground ;
Meeting at once, where high athwart their bed
Repulsive rocks a curving barrier spread,

|

In hoary foam and surging mist were lost; Thence, like an Alpine cataract of snow, White down the precipice they dash'd below; There in tumultuous billows broken wide, They spent their rage, and yoked their fourfold tide;

Through one majestic channel, calm and free, The sister-rivers sought the parent-sea.

[blocks in formation]
« PrécédentContinuer »