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The mystery of that Fountainhead, Oh! many a truth, remote, sublime,
From which all vital spirit runs, Which God would from the minds All breath of life where'er 'tis shed,
of men Through men or angels, flowers or Have kept concealed, till his own time,
Stole out in these revealments thenThe workings of the Almighty Mind, Revealments dim, that have fore-run, When first o'er Chaos he designed By ages, the bright, Saving One !! The outlines of this world; and through Like that imperfect dawn, or light
That spread of darkness, like the bow, Escaping from the Zodiac's signs, Called out of rain.clouds, hue by hue-Which makes the doubtful east half
Saw the grand gradual picturegrow! - bright The covenant with human-kind
Before the real morning shines ! Which God has made-the chains of i
Fate Heround himself and them hath twined, Thus did some moons of bliss go byTill his high task he consummate
Of bliss to her, who saw but love Till good from evil, love from hate,
And knowledge throughout earth and Shall be worked out through sin and
To whose enamoured soul and eye, And fate shall loose her iron chain,
I seemed, as is the sun on high, And all be free, be bright again !
The light of all below, above,
The spirit of sea, land, and air, Such were the deep-drawn mysteries, Whose influence, felt everywhere, And some, perhaps, even more pro-Spread from its centre, her own heart, found,
Even to the world's extremest partMore wildering to the mind than these, While through that world her reinless Which-far woman's thought mind could sound,
Had now careered so fast and far, Or a fallen outlawed spirit reach- That earth itself seemed left behind, She dared to learn, and I to teach.
And her proud fancy, unconfined, Till-filled with such unearthly lore, Already saw heaven's gates ajar!
And mingling the pure light it brings With much that Fancy had, before,
Shed in false tinted glimmerings-- Happy enthusiast! still, oh still, The enthusiast girl spoke out, as one Spite of my own heart's mortal chill,
Inspired, among her own dark race, Spite of that double-fronted sorrow, Who from their rs, in the sun
Which looks at once before and back, Left standing half adorned, would run Beholds the yesterday, the morrow, To gaze upon her holier face.
And sees both comfortless, both And, though but wild the things she blackspoke,
Spite of all this, I could have still Yet, 'mid that play of error's smoke In her delight forgot all ill ;
Into fair shapes by fancy curled, Or, if pain would not be forgot, Some gleams of pure religion broke- At least have borne and murmured not, Glimpses that have not yet awoke, When thoughts of an offcnded Heaven,
But startle the still dreaming world! Of sinfulness, which I-even I,
1 It is the opinion of some of the Fathers, that was derived from the disclosure of the angels.the knowledge which the heathens possessed of Stromat. lib. v. p. 48. To the same source Cassithe providence of God, a future state, and other anus and others trace all impious and daring sublime doctrines of Christianity, was derived sciences, such as magic, alchemy, etc. From from the premature revelations of these fallen the fallen angels (says Zosimus) came all that angels to the women of earth.
miserable knowledge which is of no use to the Clemens Alexandrinus is one of those who sup- soul.'-Ilavta ta trovnpa kal undev w edouvta TOV pose that the knowledge of such sublime doctrines yuxnv.-Ap. Photium.
While down its steep most headlong| A music, like the harmony driven,
Of the tuned orbs, too sweet to die ! Well knew could never be forgiven, While in her lip's awakening touch Came o'er me with an agony
There thrilled a life ambrosial-such Beyond all reach of mortal woe,- As mantles in the fruit steeped throug! A torture kept for those who know, With Eden's most delicious dewKnow everything, and, worst of all, Till I could almost think, though known Know and love virtue while they fall !- And loved as human, they had grown Even then her presence had the power By bliss, celestial as my own ! To soothe, to warm,—nay, even to But 'tis not, ’tis not for the wrong, bless
The guilty, to be happy long; If ever bliss could graft its flower
And she, too, now,
had sunk within On stem so full of bitterness
The shadow of a tempter's sinEven then her glorious smile to me Too deep for even her soul to shun Brought warmth and radiance, if not The desolation it brings down!
balm, Like moonlight on a troubled sea, Listen, and if a tear there be
Brightening the storm it cannot calm. Lest in your hearts, weep it for me. Oft, too, when that disheartening fear, 'Twas on the evening of a day,
Which all who love beneath yon sky which we in love had dreamed away ; Feel, when they gaze on what is dear-. In that same garden, where, beneath That dreadful thought that it must
The silent earth, stripped of my wreath, die ! That desolating thought, which comes For mortal gaze were else too bright,
And furling up those wings, whose light Into men's happiest hours and homes; I first had stood before her sight; Whose melancholy boding flings
And found myself, oh, ecstasy, Death's shadow o'er the brightest things, Sicklies the infant's bloom, and spreads Worshipped as only God should be,
Which even in pain I ne'er forgetThe grave beneath young lovers' heads !
And loved as never man was yet ! This fear, so sad to all--to me Most full of sadness, from the thought In that same garden we were now,
Thoughtfully side by side reclining, That I must still live on, when she Would, like the snow that on the sea
Her eyes turned upward, and her brow
With its own silent fancies shiving. Fell yesterday, in vain be soughtThat Heaven to me the final seal Of all earth's sorrow would deny,
It was an evening bright and still And I eternally must feel
As ever blushed on wave or bower, The death-pang, without power to Smiling from Heaven, as if nought ili die !
Could happen in so sweet an hour. Even this, her fond endearments-fond Yet, I remember, both grew sad As ever twisted the sweet bond
In looking at that light-even she, 'Twixt heart and heart-could charm Of heart so fresh, and brow so glad,
Felt the mute hour's solemnity, away : Before her look no clouds would stay, And thought she saw, in that repose, Or, if they did, their gloom was
The death-hour not alone of light,
But of this whole fair world—the close gone, Their darkness put a glory on !
Of all things beautiful and brightThere seemed a freshness in her breath, The last grand sunset, in whose ray Beyond the reach, the power of death! Nature herself died calm away! And then, her voice-oh, who could doubt
At length, as if some thought, awakivg That 'twould for ever thus breathe out Suddenly, sprung within her breast
Like a young bird, when daylight | Think'st thou, were Lilis in thy place, breaking
A creature of you lofty skies, Startles him from his dreamy nest
She would have hid one single grace, She turned upon me her dark eyes, One glory from her lover's eyes ?
Dilated into that full shape
'No, no : then, if thou lov'st like me, As if to let more soul escape,
Shine out, young Spirit, in the blaze And, playfully as on my head
Of thy most proud divinity, Her wbite hand rested, smiled and
Nor think thou’lt wound this mortal
gaze. “I had, last night, a dream of thee, 'Too long have I looked doating on
Resembling those divine ones, given, Those ardenteyes, intense even thusLike preludes to sweet minstrelsy, Too near the stars themselves have gone, Before thou cam’st, thyself, from To fear aught grand or luminous. heaven.
Then doubt me not-oh, who can say "The same rich wreath was on thy brow, But that this dream may yet come Dazzling as if of starlight made;
true, And these wings, lying darkly now, And my blest spirit drink thy ray Like meteors round thee flashed and
Till it becomes all heavenly too ? played.
'Let me this once but feel the flame 'All bright as in those happy dreams Thou stood'st, a creature to adore
Of those spread wings, the very pride No less than love, breathing out beams, Will change my nature, and this frame As flowers do fragrance, at each
By the mere touch be deitied !'
pore "Sudden I felt thee draw me near
Thus spoke the maid, as one not used To thy pure heart, where, fondly To be by man or God refusedplaced,
As one, who felt her influence o'er I seemed within the atmosphere
All creatures, whatsoe'er they were, Of that exhaling light embraced ; And, though to heaven she could not
soar, And, as thou held'st me there, the flame
At least would bring down heaven to Passed from thy heavenly soul to her !
mine, Till-oh, too blissful-I became, Little did she, alas, or ILike thee, all spirit, all divine. Even I, whose soul, but half-way yet
Immerged in sin's obscurity, “Say, why did dream so brightcome o'er Was as the planet where we lie, me,
O'er half whose disk the sun is set If, now I wake, 'tis faded, gone? Little did we foresee the fate, When will my Cherub shine before me
The dreadful--how can it be told ? Thus radiant, as in heaven he shone? Oh God! such anguish to relate . When shall I, waking, be allowed Is o'er again to feel, behold !
To gaze upon those perfect charms, But, charged as ’tis, my heart must And hold thee thus, without a cloud, speak A chill of earth, within my arms ?
Its sorrow out, or it will break!
Some dark misgivings had, I own, Oh what a pride to say, This, this Passed for a moment through my Is my own Angel-all divine,
breastAnd pure, and dazzling as he is, Fears of some danger, vague, unknown, And fresh from heaven, he's mine, To one, or both—something unblessed he's mine!
To happen from this proud request.
But soon these boding fancies fled ; Can, by the outward form unfelt,
Nor saw I aught that could forbid Reach and dissolve the soul beneath! My full revealment, save the dread
Of that first dazzle, that unhid Thus having (as, alas, deceived
By my sin's blindness, I believed)
Then waited but a sign from meFrom my rich wings when proudliest How was I to refuse ? how say spread,
One word that in her heart could stir Was, in its nature, lambent, pure, A fear, a doubt, but that each ray And innocent as is the light
I brought from heaven belonged to The glow-worm hangs out to allure
her? Her mate to her green bowerat night. Slow from her side I rose, while she Oft had I, in the mid-air, swept Stood up, too, mutely, tremblingly, Through clouds in which the lightning But not with fear-all hope, desire, slept,
She waited for the awful boon, As in his lair, ready to spring,
Like priestesses, with eyes of fire Yet waked him not--though from my Watching the rise of the full moon, wing
Whose beams-they know, yet cannot A thousand sparks fell glittering !
shunOft too when round me from above Will madden them when looked upon ! The feathered snow (which, for its whiteness,
Of all my glories, the bright crown, In my pure days I used to love) Which, when I last from heaven came Fell like the moultings of Heaven's down, Dove,
I left-see, where those clouds afar So harmless, though so full of bright- Sail through the west—there hangs
Than a fallen angel's coronet-
Was wanting; but the illumined And cool as they had fallen there !
The curls, like tendrils that had grown Nay even with Lilis--had I not
Out of the sun- the eyes, that now Around her sleep in splendour come- Had love's light added to their own, Hung o'er each beauty, nor forgot And shed a blaze, before unknown
To print my radiant lips on some ? Even to themselves - the unfolded And yet, at morn, from that repose, wings, Had she not waked, unscathed and From which, as from two radiant springs, bright,
Sparkles fell fast around, like sprayAs doth the pure, unconscious rose, All I could bring of heaven's array, Though by the fire-tly kissed all Of that rich panoply of charms night?
A cherub moves in, on the day Even when the rays I scattered stole Of his best pomp, I now put on; Intensest to her dreaming soul, And, proud that in her eyes I shone No thrilldisturbed theinsensate frame-- Thus glorious, glided to her arms, So subtle, so refined that flame, Which still(though at a sight so splendid Which, rapidly as lightnings melt Her dazzled brow had instantly The blade within the unharmed Sunk on her breast) were wide extended sheath,
To clasp the form she durst not see!
Great God! how could thy vengeance | 'Twere not so dreadful—but, come
light So bitterly on one so bright?
Too shocking 'tis for earth to hearHow could the band, that gave such Just when her eyes, in fading, took charms,
Their last, keen, agonized farewell, Blast them again, in love's own arms? And looked in mine with-oh, that look! Scarce had I touched her shrinking Avenging Power, whate'er the hell frame,
Thou may'st to human souls assign, When-oh most horrible !-I felt The memory of that look is mine! That every spark of that pure flame- In her last struggle, on my brow
Pure, while among the stars I dwelt- Her ashy lips a kiss impressed, Was now by my transgression turnel So withering !-I feel it nowInto gross, earthly fire, which burned, 'Twas fire-but fire, even more unBurned all it touched, as fast as eye blessed Could follow the fierce ravening Than was my own, and like that flame, flashes,
The angels shudder but to name Till there-oh God, I still ask why Hell's everlasting element ! Such doom was hers?-I saw her lie Deep, deep it pierced into my brain,
Blackening within my arms to ashes! Maddening and torturing as it went, Those cheeks, a glory but to see
And here-see here, the mark, the Those lips, whose touch was what stain the first
It left upon my front—burnt in Fresh cup of immortality
By that last kiss of love and sinIs to a new-made angel's thirst! A brand, which even the wreathèd pride Those arms, within whose gentle round, Of these bright curls, still forced aside My heart's horizon, the whole bound By its foul contact, cannot hide ! Of its hope, prospect, heaven was found ! Which, even in this dread moment, fond
As when they first were round me cast, But is it thus, dread ProvidenceLoosed not in death the fatal bond, Can it, indeed, be thus, that she,
But, burning, held me to the last- Who, but for one proud, fond offence, That hair, from under whose dark veil, Had honoured Heaven itself, should be The snowy neck, like a white sail Now doomed-- I cannot speak it-no, At moonlight seen 'twixt wave and Merciful God ! it is not so-wave,
Never could lips divine have said Shone out by gleams – that hair, to save The fiat of a fate so dread. But one of whose long glossy wreaths, Andyet, that look-that look, so fraught I could have died ten thousand deaths! With
than anguish, with All, all, that seemed, one minute since, despairSo full of love's own redolence, That new, fierce fire, resembling nought Now, parched and black, before me lay, In heaven or earth-this scorch I Withering in agony away;
bear! And mine, oh misery! mine the flame, Oh,--for the first time that these knees From which this desolation came- Have bent before thee since my fall, And I the fiend, whose foul caress Great Power, if ever thy decrees Had blasted all that loveliness !
Thou could'st for prayer like mine 'Twas maddening, 'twas—but hear even recall,
Pardon that spirit, and on me, Had death, death only, been the curse On me, who taught her pride to err, I brought upon her-had the doom
Shed out each drop of agony But ended here, when her young
Thy burning phial keeps for her! Lay in the dust, and did the spirit See, too, where low beside me kneel No part of that fell curse inherit, Two other outcasts, who, though gono