Elias: An Epic of the Ages. Whitney Orson Ferguson
go down
Thus low that men may rise?
Imprisoned here the Mighty One, 610
Who reigned in yonder skies?
Hark to that chime!—What tongue sublime
Now tells the hour of noon[13]?
O dying world! art welcoming
Life's life—Light's sun and moon[14]?
Proclaim Him, prophet harbinger!
Make plain the Mightier's way,
Thou sharer of His martyrdom!
Elias? Yea and Nay[15].
The crescent moon, that knew the Sun, 620
Ere stars had learned to shine[16];
The waning moon, that bathed in blood,
Ere sank the Sun divine.
"Glory to God!—good will to man!—
Peace, peace!"—triumphal tone.
"Why peace?" Is discord then no more?
Are earth and heaven as one?
Peace to the soul that serveth Him,
The monarch manger-born;
There, ruler of unnumbered realms; 630
Here, throneless and forlorn.
He wandered through the faithless world,
A prince in shepherd guise;
He called his scattered flock, but few
The Voice did recognize;
For minds upborne by hollow pride,
Or dimmed by sordid lust,
Ne'er look for kings in beggar's garb,
For diamonds in the dust.
Wept He above a city doomed[17], 640
Her temple, walls, and towers,
O'er palaces where recreant priests
Usurped unhallowed powers.
"I am the way, the life, the light!"
Alas! 'twas heeded not.
Ignored—nay, mocked—God scorned by man!—
And spurned the truth He taught.
O bane of damning unbelief!
When, when till now so rife?
Thou stumbling stone, thou barrier 'thwart 650
The gates of endless life!
O love of self, and mammon lust,
Twin portals to despair,
Where bigotry, the blinded bat,
Flaps through the midnight air!
Through these, gloom-wrapt Gethsemane[18]!
Thy glens of guilty shade
Grieved o'er the sinless Son of God,
By gold-bought kiss betrayed;
Beheld Him unresisting dragged, 660
Forsaken, friendless, lone,
To halls where dark-browed hatred sat
On judgment's lofty throne.
As sheep before His shearers, dumb,
Those patient lips were mute;
The clamorous charge of taunting tongues
He deigned not to dispute.
They smote with cruel palm a face
Which felt yet bore the sting;
Then crowned with thorns His quivering brow, 670
And, mocking, hailed him "King!"
Transfixt He hung,—O crime of crimes!—
The God whom worlds adore.
"Father forgive them!" Drained the dregs;
Immanuel[19]—no more.
No more where thunders shook the earth,
Where lightnings tore the gloom,
Saw that unconquered Spirit spurn
The shackles of the tomb.
Far-flaming might, a sword of light, 680
A falchion from its sheath,
It cleft the realms of darkness, and
Dissolved the bands of death.
Hell's dungeons burst, wide open swung
The everlasting bars,
Whereby the ransomed soul shall win
Those heights beyond the stars.
CANTO FOUR
Night And The Wilderness[1]
A World o'ershadowed by an Eagle's wings[2],
From Scythian snows to hot Hamitic sands,
From Ganges on to Tiber and the Thames. 690
Where goeth forth, unwittingly the tool
Of Truth Eterne, a pathway to prepare,
The law and legion of imperial Rome,
Mighty to crush and to consolidate,
Humbling the hard, the haughty, making way
For peace to flow[3] wider than war can wound
Servant unknowingly of Him she slew,
In pandering to Judah's jealousy.
Victim now Victor, conqueror captive led,
Debtor to justice, darkness serving day, 700
Upon her knotted neck Jehovah's heel,
Her iron hand the Nazarene's defense,
Holding in quell the hierarchal hate,
Curbing the cruel wrath of Greek and Jew;
Israel from Israel's madness made secure—
Lamb from the Lion, by the She-Wolf's might[4].
Ere rose the Iron-Limbed[5], all conquering,
Throned on the wreck of empires earlier born,
Wrought well for Him the brazen loin of power,
The pard-like phalanx, swift, invincible, 710
Spreading the glories of a sapient tongue,
The wing whereon a higher wisdom flew,
Till teemed, of Aryan clans, the Asian kin[6],
Seedlings of Japheth, sire of the Gentile world.
Soul-widening word, broad-sown by Grecia's hand,
To blossom on a furrowed heathen ground.
Servant, erstwhile, the silver-breasted realm,
Kingdom of Kurush[7], shepherd of the King,
Whose sword, that gave the Jew deliverance,
To golden Babylon the guillotine. 720
Whoe'er hath swayed, or yet shall sway, the world,
By tongue or pen, by sword or sceptered rule,
Hath served, or yet shall serve, the sovereign aim
Of