Poems (Hoffman)/Earth's Power and Weakness

by Martha Lavinia Hoffman

EARTH'S POWER AND WEAKNESS

Earth, thou hast grandeur, mighty piles are thine
Of human skill and workmanship divine,
Nature and art their kindred aims unite
To build thy loftiest monuments of might,
And dip their jeweled pens in floods of flame
To write the deathless eulogies of fame,
Where malice cannot one bright line deface
Or envy tear the record from its place:
Thy castles and thy crags tower side by side
By them the quaking elements defied,
Give o'er their strife and cease their paltry war,
Lay down their spears and own thee, conqueror.

Earth, thou hast wealth, uncounted gold is thine,
Jewels lie stored within thy hidden mine;
Safe in thy vaults for centuries they have lain,
Mortals have striven to claim them, but in vain,
Over thy wealth is set a solemn seal.
Ah! let the arrant thief break through to steal,
Thy jewels still shall deck thy vast domain:
Thy gold shall glitter in thy vaults again,
Man cannot from thy breast thy treasures bear,
The miser guards his hoards with jealous care
Claiming them, while he leaves them all behind,
He proves at last the truth that they are thine.

Earth, thou hast beauty, varied charms are thine
Wrought in rich fabrics and in rare design
Thy galleries of art thy smiles display;
Thy pictured landscapes loveliest themes portray;
Beautiful are the songs that pierce thy air
And beautiful thy holy tones of prayer;
Thy sun that smiles thee and thy clouds between
Casts o'er thy features a transparent sheen;
From Night's fleet chariot, her priestess pale
Spreads o'er thy slumbering face a silvery veil.
Yes; in great beauty are thy features planned
Molded by an all wise, almighty hand.

Earth, thou hast glory, pomp and pride are thine,
Thy sun of promise knoweth no decline,
Thy might is sung by vast assemblages
And grand processions offer thee their praise,
Resounding aisles thy eulogies prolong
And martialed hosts repeat thy triumph song;
They pass away to rest beneath thy turf
Or make their graves below thy briny suri,
But other tongues awake the dying strain
And chant the endless anthem of thy fame;
Yes, thou hast glory, mighty Earth, on thee
Waiteth unrivaled pomp and pageantry.

Thou hast all these, oh Earth! all these are thine.
Beauty and wealth and pageantry combine
To serve thee during all thy long career,
These have been thine for many, many a year;
These shall be thine, thy jeweled hands may hold
All that thou hast of glory, gems or gold.
Ages have sped away on pinions fleet
But still thy treasures glitter at thy feet;
Ages may tread again thy golden sands,
They cannot tear thy riches from thy hands,
Keep them, oh Earth! to thee they all belong.
We claim them but we do not want them long;
A few short years and we must leave behind
All that we have or hope in thee to find.

But one thing, Earth, one thing thou canst not bind;
Thou canst not fetter the immortal mind.
The soul defies thy will and breaks thy bands
Bursts through thy bars and flees from thy commands,
Thy gold and gems are safe within thy grasp
But, lo, the spirit slips from out thy clasp;
Soars on its sunbright wings to cloudless spheres
Nor glances backward to thy realm of tears;
Chained in thy prison cells or dungeons deep
Where sentinels their sleepless vigil keep,
On fearless pinions plumed for holier air,
They pass thy prison-gates, nor tarry there.

Consigned to marble tombs, hid in the deep
No plan of thine thy richest prize may keep;
The soul of deathless and imperial birth
This grandest treasure is not thine, oh Earth!
What is thy hoarded wealth and boasted power?
What is thy rarest charm or richest dower,
When one bright gem that flashes on thy shore
Shall live and reign when thou shalt be no more?