Mazelli, and Other Poems [17]
thy words were wisdom, thou hast said,
"When its full term of years has been fulfilled,
It shall return again." Not knowing that
The light thou sawest was reflected from
That sacred fire, which, in the end, shall purge
The spirit essence which pervades creation,
From the dull dust with which a wayward fate
Has clogged its being! Question me no more--
Remember what I said--I dare not tell
The secrets of Eternity. Look on
And learn whate'er thou canst.
Werner.
There is one thing which I at last have learned,--
To feel that with the increase of our knowledge
Our sorrows must increase. I oft have heard,
But never before have felt the truth of this.
To know that were it not for this clay mask,
I even now might pierce the shadowy veil
That wraps in mystery the things I see,
And comprehend their secret principle,
Will make life doubly hard to bear, and tempt
Me much to shake it prematurely off,
And snatch wings for my spirit ere its time.
A total ignorance were better than
The flash which from its slumber wakes the mind,
And then, departing, leaves it to itself,
In the wide maze of error, darkly groping.
Wisdom is not the medicine to heal
A discontented mind. I now know more
Than when I left the earth, but feel that I
Have bought my knowledge with increase of sorrow.
Spirit.
Did I not tell thee that its path were steep,
And hard to climb, and thick beset with thorns,--
And that its tempting, longed-for fruit, tho' bought
With a great price, is full of bitterness?
If though art satisfied, let us retrace
Our way to earth again; wert thou to go
Yet farther on, thou might'st regret the more
Our coming hither.
Werner.
What! is there aught still more remote than these
From the great centre of the universe,--
The fair domain of life and living things?
Spirit.
There is,--
A kingdom tenanted with such dark shapes,
That angels shudder when they look on them!
Thou surely dost not wish to visit it.
Werner.
Why not? There is within my mind a void
Whose vacant weight is harder to be borne
Than the keen stingings of more active pangs;
When it has traced the mystic chain of being
To its last link, it may perchance shake off
The misery of restless discontent,--
Its fulness then may sink it into rest.
Spirit.
I have no power to disobey thy word;
If thou wilt on, I must proceed with thee,
Even though in looking on I share the pangs
Of those who suffer.
Werner.
Come, then, I too must see them, tho' it cost
Me years of pain to gaze but for a moment.
Spirit.
'Twere harder now to find Eve's' buried dust,
Than to declare who has inherited
The largest portion of her prying spirit.
(Sings.)
Where Pain keepeth vigil
With Sorrow and Care,
And Horror sits watching
By dull-eyed Despair,--
Where the Spirit accurst
Maketh moan in its wo,
Thy wishes direct us,
And thither we go.
[Exeunt.
ACT III.
Scene I. Near the place of the damned. Enter Werner and Spirit.
Werner.
What piercing, stunning sounds assail my ear!
Wild shrieks and wrathful curses, groans and prayers,
A chaos of all cries! making the space
Through which they penetrate to flutter like
The heart of a trapped hare,--are revelling round us.
Unlike the gloomy realm we just have quitted,
Silent and solemn, all is restless here,
All wears the ashy hue of agony.
Above us bends a black and starless vault,
Which ever echoes back the fearful voices
That rise from the abodes of wo beneath.
Around us grim-browed desolation broods,
While, far below, a sea of pale gray clouds,
Like to an ocean tempest beaten, boils.
Whither shall we direct our journey now?
Spirit.
Right down through yon abyss of boiling clouds,
If though hast courage to attempt the plunge,
Our pathless way must be. A moment more
And we shall stand where angels seldom stand,
And devils almost pity when they stand,--
Behold!
Werner.
Eternal God!
Whose being, is of love, whose band is pow'r,
Whose breath is life, whose noblest attribute,--
The one most
"When its full term of years has been fulfilled,
It shall return again." Not knowing that
The light thou sawest was reflected from
That sacred fire, which, in the end, shall purge
The spirit essence which pervades creation,
From the dull dust with which a wayward fate
Has clogged its being! Question me no more--
Remember what I said--I dare not tell
The secrets of Eternity. Look on
And learn whate'er thou canst.
Werner.
There is one thing which I at last have learned,--
To feel that with the increase of our knowledge
Our sorrows must increase. I oft have heard,
But never before have felt the truth of this.
To know that were it not for this clay mask,
I even now might pierce the shadowy veil
That wraps in mystery the things I see,
And comprehend their secret principle,
Will make life doubly hard to bear, and tempt
Me much to shake it prematurely off,
And snatch wings for my spirit ere its time.
A total ignorance were better than
The flash which from its slumber wakes the mind,
And then, departing, leaves it to itself,
In the wide maze of error, darkly groping.
Wisdom is not the medicine to heal
A discontented mind. I now know more
Than when I left the earth, but feel that I
Have bought my knowledge with increase of sorrow.
Spirit.
Did I not tell thee that its path were steep,
And hard to climb, and thick beset with thorns,--
And that its tempting, longed-for fruit, tho' bought
With a great price, is full of bitterness?
If though art satisfied, let us retrace
Our way to earth again; wert thou to go
Yet farther on, thou might'st regret the more
Our coming hither.
Werner.
What! is there aught still more remote than these
From the great centre of the universe,--
The fair domain of life and living things?
Spirit.
There is,--
A kingdom tenanted with such dark shapes,
That angels shudder when they look on them!
Thou surely dost not wish to visit it.
Werner.
Why not? There is within my mind a void
Whose vacant weight is harder to be borne
Than the keen stingings of more active pangs;
When it has traced the mystic chain of being
To its last link, it may perchance shake off
The misery of restless discontent,--
Its fulness then may sink it into rest.
Spirit.
I have no power to disobey thy word;
If thou wilt on, I must proceed with thee,
Even though in looking on I share the pangs
Of those who suffer.
Werner.
Come, then, I too must see them, tho' it cost
Me years of pain to gaze but for a moment.
Spirit.
'Twere harder now to find Eve's' buried dust,
Than to declare who has inherited
The largest portion of her prying spirit.
(Sings.)
Where Pain keepeth vigil
With Sorrow and Care,
And Horror sits watching
By dull-eyed Despair,--
Where the Spirit accurst
Maketh moan in its wo,
Thy wishes direct us,
And thither we go.
[Exeunt.
ACT III.
Scene I. Near the place of the damned. Enter Werner and Spirit.
Werner.
What piercing, stunning sounds assail my ear!
Wild shrieks and wrathful curses, groans and prayers,
A chaos of all cries! making the space
Through which they penetrate to flutter like
The heart of a trapped hare,--are revelling round us.
Unlike the gloomy realm we just have quitted,
Silent and solemn, all is restless here,
All wears the ashy hue of agony.
Above us bends a black and starless vault,
Which ever echoes back the fearful voices
That rise from the abodes of wo beneath.
Around us grim-browed desolation broods,
While, far below, a sea of pale gray clouds,
Like to an ocean tempest beaten, boils.
Whither shall we direct our journey now?
Spirit.
Right down through yon abyss of boiling clouds,
If though hast courage to attempt the plunge,
Our pathless way must be. A moment more
And we shall stand where angels seldom stand,
And devils almost pity when they stand,--
Behold!
Werner.
Eternal God!
Whose being, is of love, whose band is pow'r,
Whose breath is life, whose noblest attribute,--
The one most