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Article LA VENDEE. A DRAMATIC POEM. ← Page 2 of 3 →
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
La Vendee. A Dramatic Poem.
And see not Time ' s scarred portrait . How shall thought , Embedded in sin ' s soil , find strength enough To struggle upwards , gaze upon thy face , Pour forth its thankfulness in worthy strains . For having view'd the shadow of a God . Time left thee all untouch'd , and tacitly
Acknowledged thine affinity divine ! See , the old monarch kneeleth at thy feet , O Genius ! and awaiteth thy commands ; He decketh thee right wondrously , e ' en as A tranced lover would the richest gems Bring to his spirit ' s queen , but to show forth How much more lovely , beautiful was she .
Thy touch can transform earth into a heaven ; Thy breath will almost deify a man . Beauty lies ' neath thy fingers ; dost thou raise Thy head , or gleam one glance , strange lovelin ess Is scattered far around : yet couldst thou stand In midst of wildest chaos , thou wouldst show A grand magnificence , too vast to view- — A tenderness to melt a Satan into tears .
Oh ! I could much desire that chaos wild , And lose myself in contemplating thee , Yet scarcely touch thy utmost garment's hem , Nor touch it unpolluted . Thou hast donn'd A mortal dress while ling ' ring on this earth , And wilt , I know , not put it off , till Time Shall trembling give thee up , his cherish'd bride ,
Into the keeping of Eternity , Poor Time ! I fain could weep to think that thou ! Must give her up , not quit her ; for although Her garb , by frequent journeyings with thee In thy swift unworn chariot , is now Sullied and stain'd , she came at first from Heaven , As the dull'd wave rises from lucid depths ;
And thou , banddink'd with Memory couldst tell Of that young loveliness a pleasant tale—How , when thou first didst with thy new strength , spring Into existence , and delighted felt Thy power unlimited but by thy God . How old thou art ! Thou knowest now too well , A kingly lot is not an easy one ;
The storms of centuries have spen fc on thee Unmitigated rage . Thy name ' s assail'd By men of all degrees , their burdens laid Upon thy shoulders ; thou expected , told To bury sins , hide crimes , erase the past , Dry tears , cull smiles , give birth to trait ' rous hopo , And to realities : a monarch great ,
Yet doom'd to wander through thy vast domain , Governing , and yet govern'd ; homeless , clad In little else than filthy rags , which all Thy subjects rend and soil still more . Say now , Hast thou not often w ept , and loathed life , And like a wretched outcast stood upon
Eternity ' s vast brink , longing to throw Thyself , a wearied suicide , beneath ? A contrast too : thy bride for ever young , Innately fair , as when she first came down To visit earth ;—ay , deck her , doating one ,
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
La Vendee. A Dramatic Poem.
And see not Time ' s scarred portrait . How shall thought , Embedded in sin ' s soil , find strength enough To struggle upwards , gaze upon thy face , Pour forth its thankfulness in worthy strains . For having view'd the shadow of a God . Time left thee all untouch'd , and tacitly
Acknowledged thine affinity divine ! See , the old monarch kneeleth at thy feet , O Genius ! and awaiteth thy commands ; He decketh thee right wondrously , e ' en as A tranced lover would the richest gems Bring to his spirit ' s queen , but to show forth How much more lovely , beautiful was she .
Thy touch can transform earth into a heaven ; Thy breath will almost deify a man . Beauty lies ' neath thy fingers ; dost thou raise Thy head , or gleam one glance , strange lovelin ess Is scattered far around : yet couldst thou stand In midst of wildest chaos , thou wouldst show A grand magnificence , too vast to view- — A tenderness to melt a Satan into tears .
Oh ! I could much desire that chaos wild , And lose myself in contemplating thee , Yet scarcely touch thy utmost garment's hem , Nor touch it unpolluted . Thou hast donn'd A mortal dress while ling ' ring on this earth , And wilt , I know , not put it off , till Time Shall trembling give thee up , his cherish'd bride ,
Into the keeping of Eternity , Poor Time ! I fain could weep to think that thou ! Must give her up , not quit her ; for although Her garb , by frequent journeyings with thee In thy swift unworn chariot , is now Sullied and stain'd , she came at first from Heaven , As the dull'd wave rises from lucid depths ;
And thou , banddink'd with Memory couldst tell Of that young loveliness a pleasant tale—How , when thou first didst with thy new strength , spring Into existence , and delighted felt Thy power unlimited but by thy God . How old thou art ! Thou knowest now too well , A kingly lot is not an easy one ;
The storms of centuries have spen fc on thee Unmitigated rage . Thy name ' s assail'd By men of all degrees , their burdens laid Upon thy shoulders ; thou expected , told To bury sins , hide crimes , erase the past , Dry tears , cull smiles , give birth to trait ' rous hopo , And to realities : a monarch great ,
Yet doom'd to wander through thy vast domain , Governing , and yet govern'd ; homeless , clad In little else than filthy rags , which all Thy subjects rend and soil still more . Say now , Hast thou not often w ept , and loathed life , And like a wretched outcast stood upon
Eternity ' s vast brink , longing to throw Thyself , a wearied suicide , beneath ? A contrast too : thy bride for ever young , Innately fair , as when she first came down To visit earth ;—ay , deck her , doating one ,