TO THE SUN.
68
I bent before her, worshipping almost,
That scarce I yet can think reality
Had not its share in such celestial vision, Though at that blissful pause the magic broke, And left me-even here!
GIULIO.
' Tis thus with all our brightest dreams; they fade Ere the tranc'd soul has gather'd half their sweetness: But thine was passing sweet. Saw'st thou none else?
Again:
RAPHAEL.
Methought I stood upon a city's verge, The city of th ' Eternal: at my feet
A river sparkled, whose luxurious waves Swept round its stately base: beyond them rose The glittering walls of purest marble, studded With chrysolite and diamond gems, extending Far as the eye could reach around that world Of sun topp'd palaces, within whose bound No bribed corruption dwelt. In priceless pearl, Diamond, and jasper, and the sunny topaz, And violet amethyst of purest lustre,
Were wrought its burnish'd gates; meet entrance to Th ' untold magnificence within. There arose Temple on temple, whose rich architecture No human hand had wrought; pillar, and arch, And stately colonnade, beneath whose shadow The golden pavement laugh'd in its own light; And dome with more than classic grandeur moulded, In perfect beauty, from its splendid summit To the majestic sweep of the broad steps That cast a blaze below! O, how I long'd To throw away the remnants of mortality, That clung about me like a leaden chain, Forbidding entrance there! Anon, methought, A deafening sound, as of the latest trump, Peal'd thro ' the echoing concave; I turn'd, And far beyond me in the distance rose A mountain, whose stupendous frontage might Be deem'd Elysium's boundary: Upon it stood the forms of many, some
Celestial ones, and some on whose wan brows Not distance e'en could hide the guilt or woe, Stamp'd in, irradicably deep, detailing The soul's dark earthliness, or low abasement, With all the sum of what each had to plead
His title to that bright inheritance.
The trumpet ceas'd, and then methought a voice
Peal'd thro ' the heavens:-“All ye whose feet have trod
The paths of purity, and now with heart
Of chasten'd hope and adoration, seek
Your long reward, behold it waits you here! Welcome, ye chosen happy ones! but ye
Whose paths were evil, and whose deeds arose, Offence continual to God's holy place, Behold we hide from you the things of life, Unfitting to the darkness ye inherit! "
With that, methought, some few more blest received The bright award of immortality; —
The rest, ( woe's me, many more by far! ) Those angels seized, and from the topmost height, Hurl'd headlong, like the giants that of old Warr'd with Olympian Jupiter.
Then pass'd away that sin-girt hill, and all The gloom that compass'd it, while in its place, Once more before mine eyes that valley slop'd I erst had dream'd of; the same form Of seraph loveliness, again before me Stood in new lustre, and now bending down To the clear crystal tide that roll'd beside her, Laved in its silver waves a sparkling cup, And with a smile advancing as before, Held to my lips the living water, which
To taste is not to die! And then once more, Even as that water kiss'd my lips, it broke, That splendid vision! and again I gaz'd On the dim spires of Rome!
' Twas wond'rous strange;
GIULIO.
Such things could not be earth-born: thou hast been Communing with some holier natures, sure,
To shape thy dreams so gorgeously.
RAPHAEL.
And yet of all that glory, all that light, And loveliness, the ruling-star, these eyes, Even here, have seen and worshipped.
Canst thou not guide
GIULIO.
A weary pilgrim of this leaden earth To pay his adoration to its beams, And by their light embody all the rest?
Go search,
RAPHAEL.
And thou wilt find it in that woman's eye, Within whose soul of purity young Love Hath raised his everlasting throne. Around Jehovah's dwelling-place, whate'er of light, Of glory in unmatch'd magnificence,
Bursts on the enfranchised soul, is wrought in loveImmortal, harmonizing, boundless love; Mellowing to raptur'd and adoring wonder,
What else would sternly awe; and thus much learn,
That more as thou dost well and wisely love,
Not her alone to whom thy vows are paid, But all thy kind, in action and good faith, Even so much nearer does thy soul approach The portals of perfection. O, might I, Thus passing from thee, thou night mantled earth, Go from men's eyes and hearts as peacefully,
As they from me, or as yon glorious sun, That gives and takes a blessing on his track! That thou, bright orb, might'st hear no ruder word Breath'd o'er my dust, when thy returning beams Have left their ocean bed to say of me“Where is he? "
GIULIO.
O, speak not thus long years of fame, Unblemish'd and undying as the past, And love, and hope, that sun shall shine upon, And yet record for thee!
RAPHAEL. Thou art no prophet, my Giulio,
For even as thou speak'st my struggling soul Expands her wings to join him in that flight; And see! he lingers on th ' horizon's verge, As chiding at my stay-I come! I come! Give me thy hand, Giulio! dying thanks, Poor recompense for all thy watchful love, I leave thee as this hour's remembrances: And say this for me, when defaming men Shall paint with darker tints the end of Raphael, That when the shadows of the earth grew dim, His dreams were all of brightness-Mercy, Heaven! [ Dies.
TO THE SUN.
“Almo sol, tu col crine aurato ardente. "
BLEST Sun! thou comest with thy radiant hair Of beamy glory, shedding joy and light On wakening worlds, what time thy chariot bright Flames through the glowing fields of eastern air, But lightens not the darkness of despair,
Which evermore involves, in deepest night, My clouded mind, to which alone the sight Of her, than e'en thee, heavenly Sun, more fair, Can bring delight. Thou usher'st in the day,
To earth and heaven; but never can remove From these sad eyes the tears, nor chase away My settled gloom, if the sweet looks of love, Of her who causes all my bosom's strife, Illumine not with favouring smiles my life.
