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I. FIRST of thy race,—first of thy nation’s Kings! | |
| Who see’st and weigh’st the world by reason’s light, | |
| Not judging by old Custom’s sight, | |
| But by the rolling tide of men and things,— | |
| Thou mayst sow broadcast o’er thy brilliant land | 5 |
| New thoughts and hopes as glowing as thy own, | |
| Burying grim Idols in thy deep sea-sand, | |
| That men may kneel at shrines from slavery won. | |
| Those slaveries of soul, designed | |
| By the close-veiled mysterious power | 10 |
| Which priestcraft bred for thee, and all, | |
| By thine own sceptre fall! | |
| Their depths thy piercing brain hath countermined, | |
| The fabric sinks in one black thunder-shower, | |
| And Life’s expanding wings flame up behind! | 15 |
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II. The mind of man, | |
| Once opened, claims a boundless span; | |
| Thou canst no more | |
| Contract its shore | |
| Than make a flood-tide ebb at thy command. | 20 |
| Take then thy stand | |
| On Nature’s constant love and youth, | |
| Her heart and truth, | |
| And thy resolve to search and weigh | |
| All creeds that ferment ’neath this pregnant day, | 25 |
| Then choose the loftiest,—hold thou fast, | |
| And thy rare-flowered crown shall ever last | |
| In star-like record when its bloom hath passed! | |
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III. There was a Dome, like midnight | |
| Lit up by blood-red lightning! | 30 |
| And deep within | |
| A demon din, | |
| With many a sight | |
| Of ghastly horror whitening | |
| Faces and forms, e’en while the flames were brightening! | 35 |
| The screams of those wild massacres | |
| Long echoed down the shuddering years; | |
| And yet we know the selfsame creed | |
| For which those proselyting martyrs died, | |
| Hath caused unnumbered victims thus to bleed | 40 |
| Before its symbols deified! | |
| O, Great Creative Spirit! | |
| Can man inherit | |
| Thine image, yet disgrace it,— | |
| Distort and half erase it, | 45 |
| Till Nature scarce can trace it, | |
| While to such night-dreams, crowd on crowd, | |
| Sheep, swine, and sages | |
| Pray secretly, or fierce and loud, | |
| Blasting a land for ages! | 50 |
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IV. Heaped clouds at noon! | |
| Night’s high festoon! | |
| The piled-up books of the Tycoon | |
| Were like the mountains of the Moon! | |
| Glorious to dream of,—but to climb | 55 |
| Impossible, or to divine, | |
| Grow grapes on, olives, or to mine, | |
| Or put to any use of human time; | |
| But thou, Mikado, thou hast spoken | |
| A new word,—and all locks are broken! | 60 |
| The gates gape wide, | |
| The rising tide | |
| Brings minds of every nation side by side; | |
| And secrets deep as Southern skies, | |
| In chronicles, porcelain, metals, woods, silks, dyes, | 65 |
| Steel, ivory, garden-beds, and lies | |
| Of mortal Pagods, meet all eyes! | |
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V. Deal with us, and believe that we | |
| Deal honestly; | |
| Be friendly, as you find us friends,— | 70 |
| Each having his own ends, | |
| Frankly and openly! | |
| Beware of Hell-born War! | |
| Earth’s branding scar | |
| Through History! | 75 |
| Degrading man the beast beneath, | |
| Who wars but from necessity, | |
| And builds no Glory on his fellows’ death! | |
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VI. Wise Sovereign! who hath sent from dazzling seas | |
| Thy Envoys to far-distant shores, | 80 |
| Be thou not dazzled by the swarming bees, | |
| Their human hives and stores,— | |
| Their armies, ships, magnificence,— | |
| Nor by each fine court-eloquence | |
| But note what hath been won | 85 |
| Midst a few sands, called years, | |
| From Earth’s inexhaustible wonders! from the Sun! | |
| From man’s soul-swaddling fears! | |
| To know what can be known, while yearning still, | |
| By Intellect and Science and the Will, | 90 |
| Up towards the visioned footstool of God’s throne! | |
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VII. Mikado! be not sudden to conceive | |
| Love, hatred, or indifference, | |
| But each illuminated tome receive, | |
| Which Europe old, or young America, | 95 |
| Before thee proudly may lay bare,— | |
| Cross-questioning each by generous Common-sense; | |
| As one who searching many a beach | |
| Selects and stores the best from each. | |
| Thus act, and in futurity | 100 |
| Thy country’s rational idol thou wilt be; | |
| The ancient splendors of Japan | |
| Will dwindle to a painted fan, | |
| And the rich flowers of all her Kings, | |
| Beside thy fruits, be childish things! | 105 |
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