And, since their date, my soul hath undergone
Change manifold, for better or for worse:
Yet cease I not to struggle, and aspire
Heavenward; and chide the part of me that flags,
Through sinful choice; or dread necessity
On human nature from above imposed.
'Tis, by comparison, an easy task
Earth to despise; but, to converse with heaven—
This is not easy-to relinquish all
We have, or hope, of happiness and joy,
And stand in freedom loosened from this world,
I deem not arduous; but must needs confess 135
That 'tis a thing impossible to frame
Conceptions equal to the soul's desire;
And the most difficult of tasks to keep
Heights which the soul is competent to gain.
-Man is of dust: ethereal hopes are his,
Which, when they should sustain themselves
aloft,
Want due consistence; like a pillar of smoke,
That with majestic energy from earth
Rises; but, having reached the thinner air,
Melts, and dissolves, and is no longer seen. 145
From this infirmity of mortal kind
Sorrow proceeds, which else were not; at least,
If grief be something hallowed and ordained,
If, in proportion, it be just and meet,
Yet, through this weakness of the general heart,
Is it enabled to maintain its hold
In that excess which conscience disapproves.
For who could sink and settle to that point
Of selfishness; so senseless who could be
As long and perseveringly to mourn
For any object of his love, removed
From this unstable world, if he could fix
Of pure, imperishable, blessedness,
A satisfying view upon that state
Which reason promises, and holy writ
Ensures to all believers ?--Yet mistrust
Is of such incapacity, methinks,
No natural branch; despondency far less ;
And, least of all, is absolute despair.
—And, if there be whose tender frames have
drooped
Even to the dust; apparently, through weight
Of anguish unrelieved, and lack of power
An agonizing sorrow to transmute;
Deem not that proof is here of hope withheld
When wanted most; a confidence impaired 170
So pitiably, that, having ceased to see
With bodily eyes, they are borne down by love
Of what is lost, and perish through regret.
Oh no, the innocent Sufferer often sees
Too clearly; feels too vividly; and longs
To realize the vision, with intense
And over-constant yearning;-there-there lies
The excess, by which the balance is destroyed.
Too, too contracted are these walls of flesh,
This vital warmth too cold, these visual orbs, 180
Though inconceivably endowed, too dim
For any passion of the soul that leads
To ecstasy; and all the crooked paths
Of time and change disdaining, takes its course
Along the line of limitless desires.
I, speaking now from such disorder free,
Nor wrapt, nor craving, but in settled peace,
I cannot doubt that they whom you deplore
Are glorified; or, if they sleep, shall wake
From sleep, and dwell with God in endless love.
Hope, below this, consists not with belief
In mercy, carried infinite degrees
Beyond the tenderness of human hearts:
Hope, below this, consists not with belief
In perfect wisdom, guiding mightiest power, 195
That finds no limits but her own pure will.
Here then we rest; not fearing for our creed The worst that human reasoning can achieve, To unsettle or perplex it: yet with pain Acknowledging, and grievous self-reproach, 200 That, though immovably convinced, we want Zeal, and the virtue to exist by faith
As soldiers live by courage; as, by strength
Of heart, the sailor fights with roaring seas.
Alas! the endowment of immortal
Is matched unequally with custom, time,
And domineering faculties of sense
In all; in most with superadded foes,
Idle temptations; open vanities,
Ephemeral offspring of the unblushing world;
And, in the private regions of the mind,
Ill-governed passions, ranklings of despite,
Immoderate wishes, pining discontent,
Distress and care. What then remains ?—To
Those helps for his occasions ever near Who lacks not will to use them; vows, renewed On the first motion of a holy thought; Vigils of contemplation; praise; and A stream, which, from the fountain of the heart Issuing, however feebly, nowhere flows Without access of unexpected strength. But, above all, the victory is most sure For him, who, seeking faith by virtue, strives To yield entire submission to the law Of conscience-conscience reverenced
obeyed, As God's most intimate presence in the soul, And his most perfect image in the world. -Endeavour thus to live; these rules regard; These helps solicit; and a steadfast seat
Shall then be yours among the happy few 230 Who dwell on earth, yet breathe empyreal air, Sons of the morning. For your nobler part,
Ere disencumbered of her mortal chains,
Doubt shall be quelled and trouble chased away;
With only such degree of sadness left
As may support longings of pure desire;
And strengthen love, rejoicing secretly
In the sublime attractions of the grave."
While, in this strain, the venerable Sage 239 Poured forth his aspirations, and announced His judgments, near that lonely house we paced
A plot of green-sward, seemingly preserved
By nature's care from wreck of scattered stones,
And from encroachment of encircling heath:
Small space! but, for reiterated steps,
Smooth and commodious; as a stately deck
Which to and fro the mariner is used
To tread for pastime, talking with his mates,
Or haply thinking of far-distant friends,
While the ship glides before a steady breeze.
Stillness prevailed around us: and the voice
That spake was capable to lift the soul
Toward regions yet more tranquil. But, me-
thought,
That he, whose fixed despondency had given
Impulse and motive to that strong discourse,
Was less upraised in spirit than abashed; 256
Shrinking from admonition, like a man
Who feels that to exhort is to reproach.
Yet not to be diverted from his aim,
The Sage continued:-
For that other loss, 260
The loss of confidence in social man,
By the unexpected transports of our age
Carried so high, that every thought, which looked
Beyond the temporal destiny of the Kind, To many seemed superfluous-as, no cause 265 Could e'er for such exalted confidence Exist; so, none is now for fixed despair: The two extremes are equally disowned By reason: if, with sharp recoil, from one You have been driven far as its opposite, Between them seek the point whereon to build Sound expectations. So doth he advise Who shared at first the illusion; but was soon Cast from the pedestal of pride by shocks 274 Which Nature gently gave, in woods and fields; Nor unreproved by Providence, thus speaking To the inattentive children of the world:
Vain-glorious Generation! what new powers On you have been conferred? what gifts,
your progenitors, have ye received, of new desert? what claim Are ye prepared to urge, that For you should undergo a sudden change; my decrees And the weak functions of one busy day, Reclaiming and extirpating, perform What all the slowly-moving years of time, With their united force, have left undone ? By nature's gradual processes be taught; By story be confounded! Ye aspire Rashly, to fall once more; and that false fruit, Which, to your over-weening spirits, yields 291 Hope of a flight celestial, will produce Misery and shame. But Wisdom of her sons Shall not the less, though late, be justified.'
"Such timely warning," said the Wanderer,
|