Читать книгу The Complete Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge (Illustrated Edition) - Samuel Taylor Coleridge - Страница 142

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Auspicious Reverence! Hush all meaner song,

Ere we the deep preluding strain have poured

To the Great Father, only Rightful King,

Eternal Father! King Omnipotent!

To the Will Absolute, the One, the Good! 5

The I AM, the Word, the Life, the Living God!

Such symphony requires best instrument.

Seize, then, my soul! from Freedom’s trophied dome

The Harp which hangeth high between the Shields

Of Brutus and Leonidas! With that 10

Strong music, that soliciting spell, force back

Man’s free and stirring spirit that lies entranced.

For what is Freedom, but the unfettered use

Of all the powers which God for use had given?

But chiefly this, him First, him Last to view 15

Through meaner powers and secondary things

Effulgent, as through clouds that veil his blaze.

For all that meets the bodily sense I deem

Symbolical, one mighty alphabet

For infant minds; and we in this low world 20

Placed with our backs to bright Reality,

That we may learn with young unwounded ken

The substance from its shadow. Infinite Love,

Whose latence is the plenitude of All,

Thou with retracted beams, and self-eclipse 25

Veiling, revealest thine eternal Sun.

But some there are who deem themselves most free

When they within this gross and visible sphere

Chain down the wingéd thought, scoffing ascent,

Proud in their meanness: and themselves they cheat 30

With noisy emptiness of learned phrase,

Their subtle fluids, impacts, essences,

Self-working tools, uncaused effects, and all

Those blind Omniscients, those Almighty Slaves,

Untenanting creation of its God. 35

But Properties are God: the naked mass

(If mass there be, fantastic guess or ghost)

Acts only by its inactivity.

Here we pause humbly. Others boldlier think

That as one body seems the aggregate 40

Of atoms numberless, each organized;

So by a strange and dim similitude

Infinite myriads of selfconscious minds

Are one all-conscious Spirit, which informs

With absolute ubiquity of thought 45

(His one eternal self-affirming act!)

All his involvéd Monads, that yet seem

With various province and apt agency

Each to pursue its own self-centering end.

Some nurse the infant diamond in the mine; 50

Some roll the genial juices through the oak;

Some drive the mutinous clouds to clash in air,

And rushing on the storm with whirlwind speed,

Yoke the red lightnings to their volleying car.

Thus these pursue their never-varying course, 55

No eddy in their stream. Others, more wild,

With complex interests weaving human fates,

Duteous or proud, alike obedient all,

Evolve the process of eternal good.

And what if some rebellious, o’er dark realms 60

Arrogate power? yet these train up to God,

And on the rude eye, unconfirmed for day,

Flash meteor-lights better than total gloom.

As ere from Lieule-Oaive’s vapoury head

The Laplander beholds the far-off Sun 65

Dart his slant beam on unobeying snows,

While yet the stern and solitary Night

Brooks no alternate sway, the Boreal Morn

With mimic lustre substitutes its gleam.

Guiding his course or by Niemi lake 70

Or Balda Zhiok, or the mossy stone

Of Solfar-kapper, while the snowy blast

Drifts arrowy by, or eddies round his sledge,

Making the poor babe at its mother’s back

Scream in its scanty cradle: he the while 75

Wins gentle solace as with upward eye

He marks the streamy banners of the North,

Thinking himself those happy spirits shall join

Who there in floating robes of rosy light

Dance sportively. For Fancy is the power 80

That first unsensualises the dark mind,

Giving it new delights; and bids it swell

With wild activity; and peopling air,

By obscure fears of Beings invisible,

Emancipates it from the grosser thrall 85

Of the present impulse, teaching Self-control,

Till Superstition with unconscious hand

Seat Reason on her throne. Wherefore not vain,

Nor yet without permitted power impressed,

I deem those legends terrible, with which 90

The polar ancient thrills his uncouth throng:

Whether of pitying Spirits that make their moan

O’er slaughter’d infants, or that Giant Bird

Vuokho, of whose rushing wings the noise

Is Tempest, when the unutterable Shape 95

Speeds from the mother of Death, and utters once

That shriek, which never murderer heard, and lived.

Or if the Greenland Wizard in strange trance

Pierces the untravelled realms of Ocean’s bed

Over the abysm, even to that uttermost cave 100

By misshaped prodigies beleaguered, such

As Earth ne’er bred, nor Air, nor the upper Sea:

Where dwells the Fury Form, whose unheard name

With eager eye, pale cheek, suspended breath,

And lips half-opening with the dread of sound, 105

Unsleeping Silence guards, worn out with fear

Lest haply ‘scaping on some treacherous blast

The fateful word let slip the Elements

And frenzy Nature. Yet the wizard her,

Arm’d with Torngarsuck’s power, the Spirit of Good, 110

Forces to unchain the foodful progeny

Of the Ocean stream; — thence thro’ the realm of Souls,

Where live the Innocent, as far from cares

As from the storms and overwhelming waves

That tumble on the surface of the Deep, 115

Returns with far-heard pant, hotly pursued

By the fierce Warders of the Sea, once more,

Ere by the frost foreclosed, to repossess

His fleshly mansion, that had staid the while

In the dark tent within a cow’ring group 120

Untenanted. — Wild phantasies! yet wise,

On the victorious goodness of high God

Teaching reliance, and medicinal hope,

Till from Bethabra northward, heavenly Truth

With gradual steps, winning her difficult way, 125

Transfer their rude Faith perfected and pure.

If there be Beings of higher class than Man,

I deem no nobler province they possess,

Than by disposal of apt circumstance

To rear up kingdoms: and the deeds they prompt, 130

Distinguishing from mortal agency,

They choose their human ministers from such states

As still the Epic song half fears to name,

Repelled from all the minstrelsies that strike

The palace-roof and soothe the monarch’s pride. 135

And such, perhaps, the Spirit, who (if words

Witnessed by answering deeds may claim our faith)

Held commune with that warrior-maid of France

Who scourged the Invader. From her infant days,

With Wisdom, mother of retired thoughts, 140

Her soul had dwelt; and she was quick to mark

The good and evil thing, in human lore

Undisciplined. For lowly was her birth,

And Heaven had doomed her early years to toil

That pure from Tyranny’s least deed, herself 145

Unfeared by Fellow-natures, she might wait

On the poor labouring man with kindly looks,

And minister refreshment to the tired

Way-wanderer, when along the rough-hewn bench

The sweltry man had stretched him, and aloft 150

Vacantly watched the rudely-pictured board

Which on the Mulberry-bough with welcome creak

Swung to the pleasant breeze. Here, too, the Maid

Learnt more than Schools could teach: Man’s shifting mind,

His vices and his sorrows! And full oft 155

At tales of cruel wrong and strange distress

Had wept and shivered. To the tottering Eld

Still as a daughter would she run: she placed

His cold limbs at the sunny door, and loved

To hear him story, in his garrulous sort, 160

Of his eventful years, all come and gone.

So twenty seasons past. The Virgin’s form,

Active and tall, nor Sloth nor Luxury

Had shrunk or paled. Her front sublime and broad,

Her flexile eyebrows wildly haired and low, 165

And her full eye, now bright, now unillumed,

Spake more than Woman’s thought; and all her face

Was moulded to such features as declared

That Pity there had oft and strongly worked,

And sometimes Indignation. Bold her mien, 170

And like an haughty huntress of the woods

She moved: yet sure she was a gentle maid!

And in each motion her most innocent soul

Beamed forth so brightly, that who saw would say

Guilt was a thing impossible in her! 175

Nor idly would have said — for she had lived

In this bad World, as in a place of Tombs,

And touched not the pollutions of the Dead.

‘Twas the cold season when the Rustic’s eye

From the drear desolate whiteness of his fields 180

Rolls for relief to watch the skiey tints

And clouds slow-varying their huge imagery;

When now, as she was wont, the healthful Maid

Had left her pallet ere one beam of day

Slanted the fog-smoke. She went forth alone 185

Urged by the indwelling angel-guide, that oft,

With dim inexplicable sympathies

Disquieting the heart, shapes out Man’s course

To the predoomed adventure. Now the ascent

She climbs of that steep upland, on whose top 190

The Pilgrim-man, who long since eve had watched

The alien shine of unconcerning stars,

Shouts to himself, there first the Abbey-lights

Seen in Neufchâtel’s vale; now slopes adown

The winding sheep-track vale-ward: when, behold 195

In the first entrance of the level road

An unattended team! The foremost horse

Lay with stretched limbs; the others, yet alive

But stiff and cold, stood motionless, their manes

Hoar with the frozen night-dews. Dismally 200

The dark-red dawn now glimmered; but its gleams

Disclosed no face of man. The maiden paused,

Then hailed who might be near. No voice replied.

From the thwart wain at length there reached her ear

A sound so feeble that it almost seemed 205

Distant: and feebly, with slow effort pushed,

A miserable man crept forth: his limbs

The silent frost had eat, scathing like fire.

Faint on the shafts he rested. She, meantime,

Saw crowded close beneath the coverture 210

A mother and her children — lifeless all,

Yet lovely! not a lineament was marred —

Death had put on so slumber-like a form!

It was a piteous sight; and one, a babe.

The crisp milk frozen on its innocent lips, 215

Lay on the woman’s arm, its little hand

Stretched on her bosom.

Mutely questioning,

The Maid gazed wildly at the living wretch.

He, his head feebly turning, on the group

Looked with a vacant stare, and his eye spoke 220

The drowsy calm that steals on worn-out anguish.

She shuddered; but, each vainer pang subdued,

Quick disentangling from the foremost horse

The rustic bands, with difficulty and toil

The stiff cramped team forced homeward. There arrived, 225

Anxiously tends him she with healing herbs,

And weeps and prays — but the numb power of Death

Spreads o’er his limbs; and ere the noontide hour,

The hovering spirits of his Wife and Babes

Hail him immortal! Yet amid his pangs, 230

With interruptions long from ghastly throes,

His voice had faltered out this simple tale.

The Village, where he dwelt an husbandman,

By sudden inroad had been seized and fired

Late on the yester-evening. With his wife 235

And little ones he hurried his escape.

They saw the neighbouring hamlets flame, they heard

Uproar and shrieks! and terror-struck drove on

Through unfrequented roads, a weary way!

But saw nor house nor cottage. All had quenched 240

Their evening hearth-fire: for the alarm had spread.

The air clipt keen, the night was fanged with frost,

And they provisionless! The weeping wife

Ill hushed her children’s moans; and still they moaned,

Till Fright and Cold and Hunger drank their life. 245

They closed their eyes in sleep, nor knew ‘twas Death.

He only, lashing his o’erwearied team,

Gained a sad respite, till beside the base

Of the high hill his foremost horse dropped dead.

Then hopeless, strengthless, sick for lack of food, 250

He crept beneath the coverture, entranced,

Till wakened by the maiden. — Such his tale.

Ah! suffering to the height of what was suffered,

Stung with too keen a sympathy, the Maid

Brooded with moving lips, mute, startful, dark! 255

And now her flushed tumultuous features shot

Such strange vivacity, as fires the eye

Of Misery fancy-crazed! and now once more

Naked, and void, and fixed, and all within

The unquiet silence of confuséd thought 260

And shapeless feelings. For a mighty hand

Was strong upon her, till in the heat of soul

To the high hill-top tracing back her steps,

Aside the beacon, up whose smouldered stones

The tender ivy-trails crept thinly, there, 265

Unconscious of the driving element,

Yea, swallowed up in the ominous dream, she sate

Ghastly as broad-eyed Slumber! a dim anguish

Breathed from her look! and still with pant and sob,

Inly she toiled to flee, and still subdued, 270

Felt an inevitable Presence near.

Thus as she toiled in troublous ecstasy,

A horror of great darkness wrapt her round,

And a voice uttered forth unearthly tones,

Calming her soul,—’O Thou of the Most High 275

Chosen, whom all the perfected in Heaven

Behold expectant—’

[The following fragments were intended to form part of the poem when

finished.]

‘Maid beloved of Heaven!

(To her the tutelary Power exclaimed)

Of Chaos the adventurous progeny 280

Thou seest; foul missionaries of foul sire.

Fierce to regain the losses of that hour

When Love rose glittering, and his gorgeous wings

Over the abyss fluttered with such glad noise,

As what time after long and pestful calms, 285

With slimy shapes and miscreated life

Poisoning the vast Pacific, the fresh breeze

Wakens the merchant-sail uprising. Night

An heavy unimaginable moan

Sent forth, when she the Protoplast beheld 290

Stand beauteous on Confusion’s charméd wave.

Moaning she fled, and entered the Profound

That leads with downward windings to the Cave

Of Darkness palpable, Desert of Death

Sunk deep beneath Gehenna’s massy roots. 295

There many a dateless age the Beldame lurked

And trembled; till engendered by fierce Hate,

Fierce Hate and gloomy Hope, a Dream arose,

Shaped like a black cloud marked with streaks of fire.

It roused the Hell-Hag: she the dew-damp wiped 300

From off her brow, and through the uncouth maze

Retraced her steps; but ere she reached the mouth

Of that drear labyrinth, shuddering she paused,

Nor dared re-enter the diminished Gulph.

As through the dark vaults of some mouldered Tower 305

(Which, fearful to approach, the evening hind

Circles at distance in his homeward way)

The winds breathe hollow, deemed the plaining groan

Of prisoned spirits; with such fearful voice

Night murmured, and the sound through Chaos went. 310

Leaped at her call her hideous-fronted brood!

A dark behest they heard, and rushed on earth;

Since that sad hour, in Camps and Courts adored,

Rebels from God, and Tyrants o’er Mankind!’

From his obscure haunt 315

Shrieked Fear, of Cruelty the ghastly Dam,

Feverous yet freezing, eager-paced yet slow,

As she that creeps from forth her swampy reeds.

Ague, the biform Hag! when early Spring

Beams on the marsh-bred vapours. 320

‘Even so (the exulting Maiden said)

The sainted Heralds of Good Tidings fell,

And thus they witnessed God! But now the clouds

Treading, and storms beneath their feet, they soar

Higher, and higher soar, and soaring sing 325

Loud songs of triumph! O ye Spirits of God,

Hover around my mortal agonies!’

She spake, and instantly faint melody

Melts on her ear, soothing and sad, and slow,

Such measures, as at calmest midnight heard 330

By agéd Hermit in his holy dream,

Foretell and solace death; and now they rise

Louder, as when with harp and mingled voice

The white-robed multitude of slaughtered saints

At Heaven’s wide-open’d portals gratulant 335

Receive some martyred patriot. The harmony

Entranced the Maid, till each suspended sense

Brief slumber seized, and confused ecstasy.

At length awakening slow, she gazed around:

And through a mist, the relict of that trance 340

Still thinning as she gazed, an Isle appeared,

Its high, o’erhanging, white, broad-breasted cliffs,

Glassed on the subject ocean. A vast plain

Stretched opposite, where ever and anon

The ploughman following sad his meagre team 345

Turned up fresh sculls unstartled, and the bones

Of fierce hate-breathing combatants, who there

All mingled lay beneath the common earth,

Death’s gloomy reconcilement! O’er the fields

Stept a fair Form, repairing all she might, 350

Her temples olive-wreathed; and where she trod,

Fresh flowerets rose, and many a foodful herb.

But wan her cheek, her footsteps insecure,

And anxious pleasure beamed in her faint eye,

As she had newly left a couch of pain, 355

Pale Convalescent! (Yet some time to rule

With power exclusive o’er the willing world,

That blessed prophetic mandate then fulfilled —

Peace be on Earth!) An happy while, but brief,

She seemed to wander with assiduous feet, 360

And healed the recent harm of chill and blight,

And nursed each plant that fair and virtuous grew.

But soon a deep precursive sound moaned hollow:

Black rose the clouds, and now, (as in a dream)

Their reddening shapes, transformed to Warrior-hosts, 365

Coursed o’er the sky, and battled in mid-air.

Nor did not the large blood-drops fall from Heaven

Portentous! while aloft were seen to float,

Like hideous features looming on the mist,

Wan stains of ominous light! Resigned, yet sad, 370

The fair Form bowed her olive-crownéd brow,

Then o’er the plain with oft-reverted eye

Fled till a place of Tombs she reached, and there

Within a ruined Sepulchre obscure

Found hiding-place.

The delegated Maid 375

Gazed through her tears, then in sad tones exclaimed; —

Thou mild-eyed Form! wherefore, ah! wherefore fled?

The Power of Justice like a name all light,

Shone from thy brow; but all they, who unblamed

Dwelt in thy dwellings, call thee Happiness. 380

Ah! why, uninjured and unprofited,

Should multitudes against their brethren rush?

Why sow they guilt, still reaping misery?

Lenient of care, thy songs, O Peace! are sweet,

As after showers the perfumed gale of eve, 385

That flings the cool drops on a feverous cheek;

And gay thy grassy altar piled with fruits.

But boasts the shrine of Dæmon War one charm,

Save that with many an orgie strange and foul,

Dancing around with interwoven arms, 390

The Maniac Suicide and Giant Murder

Exult in their fierce union! I am sad,

And know not why the simple peasants crowd

Beneath the Chieftains’ standard!’ Thus the Maid.

To her the tutelary Spirit said: 395

‘When Luxury and Lust’s exhausted stores

No more can rouse the appetites of kings;

When the low flattery of their reptile lords

Falls flat and heavy on the accustomed ear;

When eunuchs sing, and fools buffoonery make, 400

And dancers writhe their harlot-limbs in vain;

Then War and all its dread vicissitudes

Pleasingly agitate their stagnant hearts;

Its hopes, its fears, its victories, its defeats,

Insipid Royalty’s keen condiment! 405

Therefore, uninjured and unprofited

(Victims at once and executioners),

The congregated Husbandmen lay waste

The vineyard and the harvest. As along

The Bothnic coast, or southward of the Line, 410

Though hushed the winds and cloudless the high noon,

Yet if Leviathan, weary of ease,

In sports unwieldy toss his island-bulk,

Ocean behind him billows, and before

A storm of waves breaks foamy on the strand. 415

And hence, for times and seasons bloody and dark,

Short Peace shall skin the wounds of causeless War,

And War, his strainéd sinews knit anew,

Still violate the unfinished works of Peace.

But yonder look! for more demands thy view!’ 420

He said: and straightway from the opposite Isle

A vapour sailed, as when a cloud, exhaled

From Egypt’s fields that steam hot pestilence,

Travels the sky for many a trackless league,

Till o’er some death-doomed land, distant in vain, 425

It broods incumbent. Forthwith from the plain,

Facing the Isle, a brighter cloud arose,

And steered its course which way the vapour went.

The Maiden paused, musing what this might mean.

But long time passed not, ere that brighter cloud 430

Returned more bright; along the plain it swept;

And soon from forth its bursting sides emerged

A dazzling form, broad-bosomed, bold of eye,

And wild her hair, save where with laurels bound.

Not more majestic stood the healing God, 435

When from his bow the arrow sped that slew

Huge Python. Shriek’d Ambition’s giant throng,

And with them hissed the locust-fiends that crawled

And glittered in Corruption’s slimy track.

Great was their wrath, for short they knew their reign; 440

And such commotion made they, and uproar,

As when the mad Tornado bellows through

The guilty islands of the western main,

What time departing from their native shores,

Eboe, or Koromantyn’s plain of palms, 445

The infuriate spirits of the murdered make

Fierce merriment, and vengeance ask of Heaven.

Warmed with new influence, the unwholesome plain

Sent up its foulest fogs to meet the morn:

The Sun that rose on Freedom, rose in Blood! 450

‘Maiden beloved, and Delegate of Heaven!

(To her the tutelary Spirit said)

Soon shall the Morning struggle into Day,

The stormy Morning into cloudless Noon.

Much hast thou seen, nor all canst understand — 455

But this be thy best omen — Save thy Country!’

Thus saying, from the answering Maid he passed,

And with him disappeared the heavenly Vision.

‘Glory to Thee, Father of Earth and Heaven!

All-conscious Presence of the Universe! 460

Nature’s vast ever-acting Energy!

In will, in deed, Impulse of All to All!

Whether thy Love with unrefracted ray

Beam on the Prophet’s purgéd eye, or if

Diseasing realms the Enthusiast, wild of thought, 465

Scatter new frenzies on the infected throng,

Thou both inspiring and predooming both,

Fit instruments and best, of perfect end:

Glory to Thee, Father of Earth and Heaven!’

And first a landscape rose 470

More wild and waste and desolate than where

The white bear, drifting on a field of ice,

Howls to her sundered cubs with piteous rage

And savage agony.

LITERAL TRANSLATION.

Leaving the gates of Darkness, O Death! hasten thou to a Race yoked to

Misery! Thou wilt not be received with lacerations of Cheeks, nor with

funereal ululation, but with circling Dances and the joy of Songs. Thou

art terrible indeed, yet thou dwellest with LIBERTY, stern GENIUS! Borne

on thy dark pinions over the swelling of Ocean they return to their

native country. There by the side of fountains beneath Citron groves,

the Lovers tell to their Beloved, what horrors, being Men, they had

endured from Men.

Tho' these Lines may bear a sane sense, yet they are easily, and

more naturally interpreted with a very false and dangerous one. But I

was at that time one of the Mongrels, the Josephidites [Josephides =

the Son of Joseph], a proper name of distinction from those who believe

in, as well as believe Christ the only begotten Son of the Living God

before all Time. MS. Note by S. T. C.