V
Over the widely-spreading races of mankind, ruled aforetime an iron Destiny with silent power. A dark and heavy band was around man’s anxious soul; without end was the earth; the home of the gods and their abode. Throughout eternities had her mysterious structure stood. Beyond the red mountains of the morning, in the holy bosom of the sea, there dwelt the Sun, the all-inflaming, living light. A hoary giant bare the sacred world. Securely prisoned, beneath mountains, lay the first sons of the mother Earth, powerless in their destructive fury against the new and glorious race of the gods, and their kindred, joyous men. The dark, green ocean’s depth was the bosom of a goddess. In the crystal grottoes rioted a voluptuous tribe. Rivers, trees, flowers, and brute beasts had human understanding. Sweeter was the wine poured forth by youth’s soft bloom; a god in the vine’s clusters; a loving, a maternal goddess, shooting forth among the full, golden sheaves; love’s holy flame, a delicious service to the most beauteous of the goddesses. An ever gay and joyous festival of heaven’s children and the dwellers upon earth, life rustled on as a spring, through centuries. All races venerated, like children, the tender, thousand-fold flame, as the highest of the world; one thought only was there, one hideous vision of a dream:—
“That fearful to the joyous tables came,
And the gay soul in wild distraction shrouded.
Here could the gods themselves no counsel frame,
That might console the breast with sorrow clouded.
This monster’s path mysterious, still the same,
Unstilled his rage, though prayers on gifts were crowded.
His name was Death, who with distress of soul,
Anguish and tears, on the hour of pleasure stole.
For ever now from everything departed
That here can swell the heart with sweet delight,
Torn now from the beloved one, who, sad-hearted,
On earth could but desire and grief excite,
A feeble dream seemed to the dead imparted,
Powerless striving made man’s only right;
And broken was enjoyment’s heaving billow,
Upon the rock of endless care, its pillow.
With daring mind, as heavenly fancy glows,
Man masks the fearful shape with fair resembling:
His torch put out, a mild youth doth repose;
Soft is the end as the lyre’s mournful trembling.
Remembrance fades i’ the gloom a shadow throws:
So sang the song, a dreadful doom dissembling.
Yet undefined remained eternal Night,
The stern reminder of some distant might.”
At length the old world bowed its head. The gay gardens of the young race were withered; beyond into the freer, desert space aspired less childish and maturing man. The gods then vanished with their train. Lonely and lifeless, Nature stood. The scanty number and the rigid measure bound her with fetters of iron. As into dust and air melted the inconceivable blossoms of life into mysterious words. Fled was the magic faith, and phantasy the all-changing, all-uniting friend from heaven. Over the rigid earth, unfriendly, blew a cold north wind, and the wonder-home, now without life, was lost in ether; the recesses of the heavens were filled with beaming worlds. Into a holier sphere, into the mind’s far higher space, did the world draw the soul with its powers, there to wander until the break of the world’s dawning glory. No longer was the light the gods’ abode, their token in the heavens: the veil of the night did they cast over them. The night was the mighty bosom of revelations; in it the gods returned, and slumbered there, to go forth in new and in more glorious forms over the altered world.
Among the people above all despised, too soon matured, and wilful strangers to the blessed innocence of youth; among them, with features hitherto unseen, the new world came, in the poet’s hut of poverty, a son of the first virgin mother, endless fruit of a mysterious embrace. The boding, budding wisdom of the East first recognised another Time’s beginning; to the humble cradle of the monarch their star declared the way. In the name of the distant future, with splendour and with incense, did they make offering to him, the highest wonder of the world. In solitude did the heavenly heart unfold to a flowery chalice of almighty love, bent towards the holy countenance of the father, and resting on the happily-expectant bosom of the lovely pensive mother. With divine ardour did the prophetic eye of the blooming child look forth into the days of the future, towards his beloved, the offspring of the race of God, careless for his day’s earthly destiny. The most child-like spirits, wondrously seized with a deep, heart-felt love, collected soon around him; as flowers, a new and unknown life budded forth upon his path. Words inexhaustible, the gladdest tidings fell, as sparks from a heavenly spirit, from his friendly lips. From a distant coast, born under Hellas’ cheerful sky, a minstrel came to Palestine, and yielded his whole heart to the wondrous child:—
“The youth art thou, who for uncounted time,
Upon our graves hast stood with hidden meaning;
In hours of darkness a consoling sign,
Of higher manhood’s joyous, hailed beginning;
That which hath made our soul so long to pine,
Now draws us hence, sweet aspirations winning.
In Death, eternal Life hath been revealed:
And thou art Death, by thee we first are healed.”
The minstrel wandered, full of joy, towards Hindostan, the heart elated with the sweetest love, which, beneath yonder heavens, he poured forth in fiery songs, so that a thousand hearts inclined towards him, and with a thousand branches grew towards heaven the joyous tidings. Soon after the minstrel’s departure, the precious life became a sacrifice to the deep guilt of man: he died in youthful years, torn from the world he loved, from the weeping mother and lamenting friends. His mouth of love emptied the dark cup of inexpressible affliction. In fearful anguish approached the hour of the new world’s birth. Deeply was he touched with the old world’s fearful death—the weight of the old world fell heavily upon him. Once more he gazed placidly upon the mother, then came the loosening hand of eternal love, and he slumbered. Few days only hung a deep veil over the swelling sea, over the quaking land; the beloved ones wept countless tears; the mystery was unsealed: the ancient stone heavenly spirits raised from the dark grave. Angels sat beside the slumberer, tenderly formed out of his dreams. Awakened in the new glory of a god, he ascended the height of the new-born world; and with his own hand buried within the deserted sepulchre the old one’s corpse, and with almighty hand placed over it the stone no power can raise.
Yet do thy dear ones weep rich tears of joy, tears of emotion, and of eternal gratitude beside thy grave; even yet, with glad alarm, do they behold thee rise, themselves with thee; behold thee weeping, with sweet feeling, on the happy bosom of thy mother, solemnly walking with thy friends, speaking words as if broken from the tree of life; see thee hasten, full of longing, to thy Father’s arms, bringing the young race of man, and the cup of a golden future, which shall never be exhausted. The mother soon followed thee in heavenly triumph; she was the first to join thee in the new home. Long ages have flown by since then, and ever in yet higher glory hath thy new creation grown, and thousands from out of pain and misery have, full of faith and longing, followed thee; roam with thee and the heavenly virgin in the realm of love, serve in the temple of heavenly Death, and are in eternity thine.
“Lifted is the stone,
Manhood hath arisen:
Still are we thine own,
Unharmed by bond or prison.
When earth—life—fade away
In the last meal’s solemn gladness,
Around thy cup dare stray
No trace of grief or sadness.
To the marriage, Death doth call,
The brilliant lamps are lighted;
The virgins come, invited,
And oil is with them all.
Space now to space is telling
How forth thy train hath gone,
The voice of stars is swelling
With human tongue and tone!
To thee, Maria, hallowed,
A thousand hearts are sent;
In this dark life and shadowed,
On thee their thoughts are bent:
The soul’s releasement seeing
They, longing, seek its rest;
By thee pressed, holy being,
Upon thy faithful breast.
How many who, once glowing,
Earth’s bitterness have learned,
Their souls with grief o’erflowing,
To thee have sadly turned;
Thou pitying hast appearéd,
In many an hour of pain;
We come to thee now, wearied,
There ever to remain.
By no cold grave now weepeth
A faithful love, forlorn;
Each still love’s sweet rights keepeth,
From none will they be torn.
To soften his sad longing
Her fires doth Night impart;
From heaven cherubs thronging,
Hold watch upon his heart.
Content, our life advancing
To a life that shall abide,
Each flame its worth enhancing,
The soul is glorified.
The starry host shall sink then
To bright and living wine,
The golden draught we drink then,
And stars ourselves shall shine.
Love released, lives woundless,
No separation more;
While life swells free and boundless
As a sea without a shore.
One night of glad elation,
One joy that cannot die,
And the sun of all creation
Is the face of the Most High.”