| |
| ’T IS 1 the last hour! far o’er the beetling steep, | |
| The glorious sun descends into the deep, | |
| And flings around a fiery flood of light, | |
| In farewell beams magnificently bright!— | |
| The shadowing clouds in mingled clusters driven, | 5 |
| In lingering splendor float along the heaven: | |
| On roseate wings all softly now are stealing, | |
| Veil his bright beams then suddenly revealing; | |
| Tinging the towering cliffs and glowing skies, | |
| With radiant streaks of blue and purple dyes; | 10 |
| While the long gleam that sweeps the crimson west, | |
| Traces the mighty limits of his rest. | |
| So sink the powerful, and the good of earth, | |
| From this fair world, that gloried in their birth! | |
| Their fame beams bright o’er death’s dispersing gloom, | 15 |
| And crowns with living light their hallow’d tomb! | |
| ’T is the last hour! and all around is still!— | |
| No murmur breaks on Calvary’s lone hill!— | |
| Gihon’s green banks and waves of heavenly blue, | |
| And vales and woods touch’d with a soften’d hue, | 20 |
| Shine gladly forth, and greet the raptured view!— | |
| Hush’d is the fall of waters! evening’s purple dew | |
| Is all around—the sweet flowers blossoming | |
| Droop their bright heads over the sacred spring! | |
| The high blue depths of air are silent now!— | 25 |
| And spirits crowd along that mountain’s brow!— | |
| Their rushing plumes are waving in the light, | |
| Spangled with stars, their waving tresses bright, | |
| Circled with diadems enwreath’d with flowers! | |
| They come in glory from immortal bowers; | 30 |
| Hark!—’t is the music of a golden string, | |
| Swept by the sweet winds softly quivering! | |
| That trembles on the air with thrilling wing, | |
| And soothes the soul with its wild wandering! | |
| Like the loved hymn of early joys departed, | 35 |
| That leaves the pilgrim almost broken-hearted; | |
| Too richly dear, its deep enchanting swell | |
| That has no name—but only breathes farewell!— | |
| ’T is gone!—and silent now the broad blue skies, | |
| Rolling in splendor as they gently rise! | 40 |
| Soaring on radiant wings, far, far away! | |
| How solemnly beautiful departing day! | |
| And oh! how changed from that when Jesus died | |
| On that lone mountain’s solitary side!— | |
| Thick clouds of darkness veil’d its hallow’d crest, | 45 |
| And hovering lower’d upon its awful breast; | |
| Heavy and still the gathering volumes form; | |
| Hark! ’t is the hollow muttering of the storm!— | |
| It comes at last, in gloom and wildering terror; | |
| The skies hang heavy like a mighty mirror, | 50 |
| Despoil’d of all its splendor and its light! | |
| Dim crowding shapes are thronging down the night!— | |
| Redoubling peal on peal the thunder rolls, | |
| And rends the reddening vapor’s bloody folds! * * * * * * * | |
| Sudden and quick the lurid flashes driven | 55 |
| In angry quiverings shot along the heaven, | |
| Shivering the foldings of that darksome shroud! | |
| Rent are the mountain rocks! earth shrieks aloud! | |
| The tempest winds are struggling fierce—and far | |
| Down the deep vale rolls on the fearful war! | 60 |
| The volumed mass, all trembling, now receding, | |
| In wandering fires, high o’er the proud crest spreading | |
| In billowy flames! high on their flashing wings, | |
| Wrecks of old clouds and awful thunderings! | |
| And meteors stricken from the firmament | 65 |
| Shower round their sulphurous rains!—in wild lament, | |
| Phantoms of light burst from the yawning earth | |
| On burning wings, the earthquake’s wondrous birth!— | |
| The sun goes down in blood, and day is gone! | |
| Nature convulsive shakes, groans deep, ’t is done! | 70 |
| The whirlwinds rage, the graves give up their dead! | |
| Thousands of thunders roll! Where is that spirit fled? | |
| The godhead’s power was there! and all was night! | |
| The godhead’s power was there! and all was light!— * * * * * * | |
| Lo! rising from the shade of years, | 75 |
| Visions of light are beaming! | |
| They pass away!—a host appears! | |
| How bright the visionary shapes are gleaming!— | |
| Hark!—’t is the trumpet clang!—the warrior band | |
| Sweep the dark waters for the holy land;— | 80 |
| Knights, chieftains, paladins and kings! | |
| Amid ten thousand banner’d things! | |
| Bright gleam the far off spears—and golden armor ringing, | |
| Proud plumage waving, and red crosses flinging, | |
| Are all around, where upward they are winging, | 85 |
| In pomp and pride of chivalry, | |
| Their streaming terrors to the sky!— | |
| And see, where burns the crescent high, | |
| Melting in clouds of purple dye! | |
| And gay pavilions proudly shine,— | 90 |
| Gilded throne and gorgeous shrine | |
| Are stretched on Syria’s strand! | |
| And there the Moslem banner throws, | |
| Its threatening folds to coming foes!— | |
| See the Saracen lines are unveiled, and display, | 95 |
| The burning crests of their long array, | |
| And glance in fearful light,—the sun’s last trembling ray! | |
| Hear ye no cry on Gaza’s shore?— | |
| No victor shout, no battle roar?— | |
| The ringing trump come piercingly— | 100 |
| On the startled ear, and the hoarse war cry! | |
| The peal of drum rolling deeply on! | |
| The war horn’s din, and gonfalon; | |
| Saw ye no flash of the scimetar’s wave, | |
| As it fell on the crests of the warrior brave?— | 105 |
| The crimson plume mingling with crescent of light; | |
| The struggles of death in the heat of the fight! | |
| Where the wild war horse trampled over the dead, | |
| And crush’d out the souls of the living,—and fled? | |
| His fetlocks all gory, and ghastly his eye!— | 110 |
| And the groan and the curse, and the horrible yell | |
| Of the victor and vanquish’d, like spirits of hell | |
| From their chains unbound and warring high, | |
| Shrieking out the long curse of their agony!— | |
| Banners are spread on the mountain rock! | 115 |
| Dark shadows are melting! and lo! there ’s a shock, | |
| And the battle is ending!—a loud stirring cry | |
| Swells on the cloud wind exultingly!— | |
| The dark volumed smoke rolls awfully there! | |
| Livid flashes of light through its canopy glare! | 120 |
| Like meteor flame in the stormy air— | |
| Million of shafts giving dreadful token! | |
| Spears kindling along! all bloody and broken!— | |
| Like the angry clouds of the lowering morn! | |
| Wildly they rush through the smoke and flame, | 125 |
| Fighting to win a glorious name, | |
| Or lonely there to die! | |
| Whence is that form that comes terribly on? | |
| With a helmet of light—in the dark battle won. | |
| In the splendor of youth! it is vanish’d and gone! | 130 |
| O, gone for aye in the whirlwind breath | |
| Of the spirit that rides on the clouds of death! | |
| His white courser plunging with terrible wrath | |
| And leaping along the encumber’d path!— | |
| His rider he drags o’er the carnage ground; | 135 |
| Still muttering out an encouraging sound, | |
| And waving in vain—his broken sabre round; | |
| His bosom gore stained with a sabre wound! | |
| In vain! the scimetars are nearer clashing!— | |
| And arms of blood—like death stars flashing! | 140 |
| Rolling of drums, and shrieks for life! | |
| The earthquake motion of the strife!— | |
| And hark! a fearful pause in that din profound! | |
| The dark fight deepens, and gathers round! | |
| The red cross banners are up on the gale! | 145 |
| And their floating is like the shattered sail | |
| Of the proud ship wreck’d by the ocean storm! | |
| Some frigate of air, of the bravest form, | |
| Flashing in blood, by the thunder torn!— | |
| How they hurry along; by their flight upborne! | 150 |
| The crescents are down! there are suns in the sky! | |
| And hark! the glad shout of victory!— | |
| Dark as the wave when spectres lower | |
| And shroud the deep at midnight hour!— | |
| Thick as the leaves when autumn tide, | 155 |
| Has reft the forest of its pride! | |
| Swift as the clouds by whirlwinds driven | |
| Far—far along the troubled heaven! | |
| The glorious vision pass’d! | |
| Red ruin grasped his scythe, and strode along the waste!— * * * * * * * | 160 |
| The moon rides high in heaven; the stars are bright | |
| Along the azure depths, shedding a timid light! | |
| Who has not felt the mysteries of night? | |
| Yea! there is something hallow’d in this hour, | |
| When the mind wanders in its newborn power, | 165 |
| Far from the things of earth to things above, | |
| And worships in the world of holiness and love!— | |
| In regions pure, where veil’d archangels dwell, | |
| Circling the eternal front of life ineffable!— | |
| Sometimes we wander to the fairy land, | 170 |
| Where the soul dances and her wings expand! | |
| Fair land!—all brighten’d o’er with turf and flowers, | |
| And dewy shrubbery, and moonlight bowers, | |
| Retreat of fancy’s glittering vagrant powers. | |
| Fair heaven!—where many color’d clouds enfold, | 175 |
| Bright islets floating in the sea of gold! | |
| Proud domes and palaces are shining there, | |
| With ivory columns, gemm’d with fire-stain’d spar! | |
| There wanton zephyrs dance on budding flowers, | |
| And waft the fragrant leaves in snowy showers;— | 180 |
| By sunny banks the silver waters whirl | |
| A wildering music o’er their sands of pearl!— | |
| And birds are singing from their star-lit bowers, | |
| To lull the sleeping of the blue eyed hours! | |
| Light things are flitting in this world of air! | 185 |
| Gay creatures born of thought, are dwelling there!— | |
| The elfin race, who bathe in dews of morn! | |
| And climb the rainbow of the summer storm!— | |
| Floating about, in thinnest robes of light, | |
| From meteors caught, that shoot along the night. | 190 |
| Crowns, studded o’er with gems, their brows adorn, | |
| Stole from the eyelids of the waking morn!— | |
| They wave bright sceptres, wrought of moonlight beams, | |
| And spears of crystal, tinged with lightning gleams!— | |
| Young naked Loves are sporting on the main, | 195 |
| Or glide on clouds along the ethereal plain! | |
| Their snowy breasts floating the waves among, | |
| Are kiss’d by shapes of light, and swim along | |
| In liquid sapphire—with their humid locks | |
| Dropping thick diamonds o’er their mossy rocks!— | 200 |
| The sea-green realm is all with emeralds shining, | |
| With rainbow arches o’er the depths reclining!— | |
| And other skies are deeply rolling under, | |
| With clouds of trembling flame and slumbering thunder! | |
| And minstrels blow their horns of tulip flowers! | 205 |
| In echoes softly from their air-borne towers, | |
| Floats back the music, with a dreamy sound! | |
| A dove-wing’d presence, hovering round and round!— | |
| Visions of joy! in sun-robe garments sporting, | |
| Dear Loves! with gay looks in green pathways courting! | 210 |
| Who speak with eyes, and move with steps of sadness, | |
| And now, we list a cheerful song of gladness! | |
