II.

THE MOUNTAIN OF SETH.

OH! for the weeping verse of Jeremy,
The Prophet of the Lord!—For Zion mourn,
A childless Widow in captivity!

Death in her palaces hath made sojourn,
For all Creation with her suffering God
Suffered. So Hades from his secret bourn,

And Earth phantasmal from her gross abode,
With Visions of the Crucified, ere long
Transpierced and buried, on the Air forth rode,
Above her Temples, uttering doleful Song
Unto the World of Spirits. There dwelt Fear,
Dwelt in the Land of Hope, the Elect among,

There Darkness dwelt in Light's eternal sphere,
And Hell and Satan, speeding their account,
Over the Holy City, hovered near.

-Westward whereof upon the mystick Mount
Of Seth, the Patriarchs, as before the Flood,
Hold solemn Converse by the living Fount,

That with their numbers of divinest mood
Mingles its liquid murmurs. Lo, with them
Stands Moses, Shepherd meek, and Warrior good.
His hand is on his harp, harmonious gem,
And his voice swells upon the buoyant air
That mantles purple round Jerusalem.

Thee, first I sing, ere generations were,
And after; thee, paternal dwelling-place,
Of universal Being. We repair

O Father! to the fountain of thy grace,
And are renewed. Thou art our God for ever,
Pure keystone of Creation-bourn and base!

Arrows are we in thine eternal quiver,
With whom thou conquerest. O tarry not,
Hasten to save thy Saints, oh, hasten to deliver!"

-At once up from that multitudinous spot, Myriads of voices, as one voice, aloud Anthem the Song, a choral monoglot.

Glorious they stand, involved like cloud in cloud,
Hovering above the Mountain of the Even,
Gorgeously painting what their shadows shroud,

Themselves lit with the sun, and dyed in heaven!
Midway on Hermon stands the Midianite;
Above, enthroned in orbs of twelve and seven,

The Patriarchal race on Ardis' height
Crown the hill's crest, a lively diadem,
Majestically tall, magnificently bright.

Near him the Founders of Jerusalem,
Earthly Jerusalem, repose serene ;
And of her glory many a lesser gem—

Poet and Sage, each interval between,

Who loved and taught the truth, of every land, Fill up in order, and complete the scene;

A royal priesthood, an heroick band.

-Then Israel's Singer made his Song excel,
He raised his voice, and took his harp in hand.

-"Behold how good it is, that Brethren dwell In unity together. Sweet it is

As the rich Unguent that o'er Aaron fell

From head to beard, and even deigned to kiss
His garment-skirts. 'Tis precious as the Dew
Distilled on Hermon in fine essences.

Yea, it refreshes Zion's mountains too;
For there the Blessing of Eternal Life
The Lord our God shall evermore renew."

-The Song of Peace ascends on high, where rife
The living waters well from out the Throne;
The Song of Peace their only arm of strife,

Whereby they conquer now, though like a zone The Northern Powers their City gates have girt, And Death hath stricken the Anointed One.

"For Peace is of the Soul. Force cannot hurt Where virtue is." Thus he,* who sang erewhile Of Fortitude even Jove could not subvert,

Sings present here. "Nor Violence nor Guile
Can awe the Soul well-centred. Lo, He comes
Who shall release Prometheus, and I smile—

The Poet who his soul in Song consumes,
That none will hear the Sage who pleads in vain
To human conscience of eternal dooms,

The Prophets, and all Martyrs ever slain,
From Abel's blood to that more precious still ;
Their's is the Rock, the Vulture and the Chain.

Yet are they Cities set upon a hill,

Though the tumultuous world assail them sore—
Yet their high destinies shall they fulfil.

If Pain and Sorrow lap their heart's best gore,
By its own living power it is renewed—
And the World's Tyrant can exact no more.

This is the Mystery, the eternal Feud,
The Secret that perplexed the Power of Air;
Wisdom, Art, Patience, Faith and Fortitude.

The God-the God descends into the sphere
Of Darkness, to deliver whom no storm
Might overcome, nor torment make despair!"

The strain, by him whose infant lips were warm With Truth, breathed in the murmur of the Bees, Heaven-visited, and made to gods' conform,

Continued, charms with older verities

"Not into Darkness went the Friends of Man, Not into Darkness comes our Hercules!

We spake but as we saw.
Clouds o'er the van
Of Life impended, Clouds involved the rear,

If bright the space between, how brief its span !—

How brief its span, yet thronged with Hope and Fear—
Possession never-and if good not great,
If great not good—a parted hemisphere,

Languishing for Completion; where men fret
After their lost integrity, but hate

To find in others what themselves want yet.

So is the soul perplexed by its false state!
Hence when the Perfect and the Just appeared,
Him they pursued to death, inveterate.'

These words were with a grateful welcome heard
By him, the unskilful Shepherds who reproved
In ancient Greece, and perished though revered :
He interposes now." But Heaven-beloved
Are they, and loving Heaven, and what they love
Make to their souls, and are by Heaven commoved,
Who suffer for Truth's sake. They stand above
The clouds of Fate, in the serene pure air
Of Innocence, and hover like the Dove

O'er Chaos, brooding on confusion there
To turn to shape; beholding in all things
Order reflected from the happy seer.

* Socrates.