And sought this dreary dark abode,
To save their altars and their God,
From cavern black, with mystic gloom,
(Cradle of Science, and its tomb)
Where Magic had its early birth,
Which drew the sun and moon to earth,
From hollow'd rock, and devious cell,
Where Mystery was fond to dwell,
And, in the dark and deep profound,
To keep th' eternal secret bound,
(Recorded by no written art
The deep memorial of the heart)
In flowing robe, of spotless white,
Th' arch-druid issued forth to light;
Brow-bound with leaf of holy oak,
That never felt the Woodman's stroke.
Behind his head a crescent shone,
Like to the new-discover'd moon;
While, flaming, from his snowy vest,
The plate of judgment clasp'd his breast.
Around him press'd the illumin'd throng,
Above him rose the light of song;
And from the rocks and woods around
Return'd the fleet-wing'd sons of sound.
"MAKER of TIME! we mortals wait
"To hail thee at thy eastern gate;
"Where, these huge mountains thrown aside,
"Expands for thee a portal wide.
"Descend upon this altar, plac'd
"Amidst Glendalloch's awful waste: "So shall the Pæan of thy praise
Arise, to meet thy rising rays, "From Elephanta's sculptur'd cave, "To Eiren, of the western wave,
"And the rejoicing earth prolong
"The orbit of successive song:
"For we by thy reflection shine!
"Who knows our God becomes divine.
"But ah! what dim and dismal shade
"Casts this strange horror o'er the glade!
"Causes e'en hearts of brutes to quake,
"And shudders o'er the stagnant lake?
"What demon, enemy of good,
"Rolls back on earth this night of blood?
"What dragon, of enormous size,
"Devours thee in thy native skies?
"O, save thy children from his breath,
"From Chaos, and eternal death.”
The Druid mark'd the destin'd hour-
He mounted slow yon sacred tow'r;
Then stood upon its cap sublime
A hoary chronicler of time;
His head, amidst the deathful gloom,
Seem'd Hope new-risen from the tomb;
And, while he rais'd to heav'n his hand,
That minister of high command
The terrors of the croud repress'd,
And smooth'd their troubl'd wave to rest--
Then spoke and round the pillar'd stone
Deep silence drank his silver tone.
"HE, who, from elemental strife, "Spoke all these worlds to light and life, "Who guides them thro' th' abyss above "In circles of celestial love, "Has this vast panorame design'd "A mirror of th' eternal mind. "To view of superficial eyes,
"In broken points this mirror lies;
"And knowledge, to these points apply'd, "Are lucid specks of human pride. "From beams of truth distorted, cross'd, "The image of our God is lost. "Those, only those become divine "Who can the fractur'd parts combine: "Nature to them, and them alone, "Reflects from ev'ry part but ONE; "Their eagle eye, around them cast, "Descries the future from the past. "Justice will not annihilate "What goodness did at first create. "The mirror sully'd with the breath "Suffers slight change-it is not death "That shadows yon bright orb of day: "See! while I speak, the orient ray "Breaks, sudden, thro' the darksome scene, "And Heav'n regains its blue serene. "And soon the mild propitious pow'r, "Which consecrates the ev'ning hour, "Shall bend again her silver bow, "Again her softer day shall throw, "Smooth the dark brow of savage Kyle, "And grim Glendalloch teach to smile. "Now, Druids, hail the joyous light; "Fear God-be bold-and do the right." He ceas'd their chorus, sweet and strong, Roll'd its full stream of sainted song.
"O, fountain of our sacred fire, "To whom our kindred souls aspire, "(Struck from the vast chaotic dark, "As from these flints we strike the spark) "Thou Lord of Life and Light and Joy, "Great to preserve but not destroy,
"On us thy favour'd offspring shine! "Who know their God must grow divině. "And when thy radiant course is done, "Thou, shadow of another sun, "Shalt fade into his brighter sky, "And time become eternity."
But past, long past, the DRUID reign;
The CROSS o'ertopt the Pagan fane.
To this remote asylum flew
A priesthood of another hue,
More like the raven than the dove,
Tho' murm'ring much of faith and love.
A lazy sullen virtue slept
O'er the dull lake: around it crept
The self-tormenting anchorite,
And shunn'd th' approach of cheerful light;
Yet darkly long'd to hoard a name,
And in the cavern grop'd for fame.
Where Nature reign'd, in solemn state,
There Superstition chose hér seat;
Her vot❜ries knew, with subtle art,
Thro' wond'ring eyes to chain the heart;
By terrors of the scene to draw
And tame the savage to their law,
Then seat themselves on Nature's throne,
And make her mighty spell their own.
The charming sorc'ry of the place
Gave Miracle a local grace;
And, from the mountain-top sublime,
The Genius of our changeful clime,
A sort of pleasing panic threw,
Which felt each passing phantom true.
E'en at a more enlighten'd hour
We feel this visionary pow'r ;
And when the meanest of his trade,
The ragged minstrel of the glade,
With air uncouth, and visage pale,
Pours forth the legendary tale,
The Genius, from his rock-built pile,
Aweful, looks down, and checks our smile,
We listen then a pleasing thrill
Creeps thro' our frame, and charms our will,
"Till, fill'd with forms, phantastic, wild,
We feign and then become the child.
We see the hooded fathers take
Their silent circuit round the lake:
Silent-except a wailful song,
Extorted by the leathern thong,
Cronan, Cornloch, Lochaun, Doquain,
Superiors of the servile train,
Envelop'd in their cowls, they move,
And shun the God of Light and Love.
Who leads the black procession on?
St. Keivin's living skeleton,
That travels thro' this vale of tears,
Beneath the yoke of six score years;
Sustains his step a crosier wand,
Extended stiff one wither'd hand;
To which the black-bird flew distress'd,
And found a kind protecting nest:
There dropt her eggs, while outstretch'd stood
The hand-'till she had hatch'd her brood.
Hark! What a peal, sonorous, clear,
Strikes, from yon tow'r, the tingling ear;
(No more of fire the worship'd tow'r,
The holy water quench'd its pow'r)
And now, from every floor, a bell
Tolls father Martin's fun'ral knell,
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