Читать книгу The Continental Monthly, Vol. 3, No. 1 January 1863 - Various - Страница 3

Life is but an outer wall

Round the realm of thought unseen;

Ah! to let the drawbridge fall

Leading to that magic hall!

Ah! to let creation in.

Kings that with the world contended,

What remains of all the splendid

Misery their hands have wrought?

Hushed and silent now the thunder

They have made the world rock under;

But the ages bow in wonder

To a thought.

Ah! the many tragic parts

That are played by human hearts

In that golden drama, fame.

These are minor actors truly,

That should not be seen unduly,

Letting idle recollection

Trifle with the play's perfection,

Letting an unwritten anguish

Make the brilliant pageant languish.

Alas for every hero's story,

That the woes which chiefly make it

Must surge from the heart, or break it,

And show the stuff that fashions glory.

Pyramids and templed wonders

At the best are wise men's blunders;

The subtle spell of thought and fancy,

It is Nature's necromancy.

In that land where all things real

Blossom into the ideal,

In that realm of hidden powers

Moving this gross world of ours,

He that would inherit fame,

Let him on the magic wall

Of some bright, ideal hall

Write his name;

He and glory then shall be

Comrades through eternity.

While the deeds of mighty kings

Sleep the sleep of meaner things,

Thoughts enclosed in words of granite

Revolutionize our planet.

And, itself a new creation,

Many an enchanted tune,

As of nightingale's in June,

Comes floating down in long vibration,

To the chorus of the hours

Lending its harmonial powers,

Or through Time's resounding arches

Playing Nature's solemn marches,

To whose beat the marshalled nations

Pass in steady generations.

But deem not the thoughts unspoken,

Silent despots of the brain,

Build their airy halls in vain,

Die and leave behind no token.

As the stars upon the ether

Play their golden monody,

Flashing on dusk-featured night

The soft miracle of light;

So upon a finer ether,

A spiritual emanation

From the whole mind of creation,

Plays the brain incessantly;

And each thought is a vibration,

Running like a poet's rhyme

Down the endless chords of time,

And on each responsive brain

Dropping in a silver rain

Of divinest inspiration.

When the whirlwind rush of war

Passes, and is heard no more,

Voices crushed beneath its din

Rise and their long reign begin;

Thoughts like burning arrows hurled

At the tyrants of the world,

Thoughts that rend like battle axes

Till wrong's giant hand relaxes,

Thoughts that open prison gates

And strike the chains of prostrate limb,

That turn the current of the fates,

Like God's commissioned cherubim

With divine authority

To proclaim creation free,

And plant in human hearts the seeds

That shall grow to noble deeds.

Ha! when genius climbs the throne

Sacred to oppression grown,

And from his seat plucks tyranny;

When, with thoughts that pierce like flame,

Songs, and every word a fame,

She crowns imperial Liberty,

Then shall the usurper, glory,

End his foul and brutal story,

And manhood evermore shall be

A synonym of liberty.