That warfare ceased to be a crimson field;
And victories were gained, and empires won,
By grasp of brain with brain, in wordy war.
And Peace with olive sceptre ruled the world—
One vast republic-Commerce throve amain,
And Art increased, and everywhere arose
Such mighty cities that the earth grew dark
With stone and mortar,-all the sea was thronged ·
With floating dwellings, and the sky loomed dim
With palaces suspended in the clouds.
In ocean depths the great usurper, Man,
Had gained dominion. Sluggish gaseous spheres.
The sport of every wind, gave place to frames
Of massive metal; by such power propelled,
They rushed with lightning speed from pole to pole;
And even men themselves developed wings,
Out-rivalling the birds in rapid flight;
And, like a cloud of locusts hovering,
Gathered in swarms on lonely mountain peaks,
Destroying all before them. Earth grew bare
Of all but ordure; every beast was slain-
No glittering scale existed in the sea;
Till Man, compelled by hunger's cruel power,
Devoured his offspring-slew the weaker sex;
And Peace departing, grappled hand to hand,
And tooth to tooth, in such carnivorous war,
That all the earth streamed rivulets of blood,
Or glistened white with gnawed and fleshless bones.
Then, I, whose wide development of will
Had raised me yet superior to my race,
First used, in self-defence, my hidden power
Against those ravening wolves; and o'er the world
Drove such concussive force, that every breath
Grew still before me.-I alone survive,
Who now but crave from earth to pass away;
For as my body cumbereth my soul,
The God within me is restrained by space;
For thrice the will has failed to bear the flesh
Beyond the confines of this atmosphere.
But death can free me! Spirit, wing thy way;
Perchance to be embodied on yon star,
Which quivers o'er me in the darkening sky,
Perchance dissolved in all absorbing space,
To wait entranced, until the elements
Which form the body-liberated, free-
Again combining, flash reviving fire
Through the cold pulses of this vacant orb.
SOFTLY the wind from the sweet south is sighing,
Sighing o'er meadow and heather-land free;
While the red sun, like a warrior dying,
Dying in glory, sinks into the sea.
Faintly the moon like a ghost uprises,
Uprises in splendour that will not last;
And the gold-edged clouds in their weirdest guises
(Guises spectral) are here and past.
Swiftly the storm bursts, vividly flashing
Flashing o'er mountain and forest and plain,
And 'gainst the grey cliffs the wild billows dashing,
Dashing and foaming blend salt tears with rain.
So o'er some empire too peacefully dreaming,
Dreaming and sleeping beneath the calm skies,
Comes War's dark demon with fiery brand gleaming,
Gleaming and blighting the land till it dies.
THE wild bleak hills are grey with snow,
The western skies have lost their glow,
A bitter sullen wind doth blow;
The night is dreary.
The way is rough, the journey long,
The merry birds have hushed their song,
The foot grows weak which once was strong,
For I am weary.
The lights of home are far away,
And phantom fires have led astray,
I ne'er again may meet the day;
And night is dreary.
Ah! had I sped when morn was bright,
Nor lingered till the waning light
Sank in the gloomy depths of night,
And I so weary!
I stayed to pluck the flowers of youth,
I touched instead the serpent's tooth,
I failed to reach the rays of truth;
Ah! night is dreary.
But why should I repine at last,
And fear to bide the bitter blast?
Death leads to life, God's love is vast,
And I am weary.
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