The Angel of Death | Page 4

anxious calling,?You sigh for morn, with to-day not through,?When, unbethought, like a trap-door falling,?The earth unlocketh itself for you--
You disappear?Where no light is nearing--?Soon mem'ry dear?Is no more endearing--?And new-lit moon, from its silvered sky,?Again, sees others arrive and fly.
In circling dances so lightly swinging?You follow wildly amusement's thread,?With myrtle blooming and music ringing ...?But solemn I on the threshold tread:--
The dance is checked?And the clang is wailing,?The wreath is wrecked?And the bride is paling:?The end of splendor and joy and might?Is only sorrow and tears and blight.
I am the mighty, who has the power,?Till yet a mightier shall appear.?In deepest pit, on the highest tower,?My chilling spirit is ever near:
Those plagues of night?And of desolation,?Whose breath of blight?May annul a nation,?They slay the victims, which I select,?Whom shield and armor can not protect.
I wrap the wing round the polar tempest?And calm the waves ere they reach the strand.?I crush the schemes of dynastic conquest,?And wrench the club from the tyrant's hand.
I eras chase,?Like the hour just passing;?And race on race,?With their works amassing,?Like heaving waves, in my footsteps flow,?Till, last, no ripples their murmur show.
'Gainst me in vain are your wit and letters,?'Gainst me nor weapons nor arts prevail.?I freedom give to the slave in fetters,--?His ruler's will I in irons nail.
I lead the battle--?And armies tumble,?Like slaughtered cattle,?While cannons rumble,?And never rise from their sudden fall?Until alarmed by the judgment-call.
I wave my hand--and, with whirlwinds' sweeping?All life on earth to that place doth fly,?Where not a sound to the ear is creeping,?Where not a tongue moves to make reply.
My foot meanders--?And kings and heroes,?And Alexanders,?And wicked Neros,?And princes, lofty in might and lust,?Are all transformed to--a handful dust.
In lowly earth, upon which they bother?And beg and wrangle for rank and gift,?I mix the races among each other,?I lay the centuries, drift on drift.
Forlorn and friendless?Exists no pleasure;?In shadows endless?No pomp, or treasure.?Their owners left them when on came night--?Now others claim them, with lawful right.
There is no stronghold on earth erected,?No guarded fort, that can save you, known.?Though by recorded transfer protected,?Your gained possession is not your own:
The purple hems?Of your silk-robed neighbor,?The crape, the gems,?And the yoke of labor,?Lo, other mortals their folds adorn,?On other shoulders their loads are borne!
You have arrived, you shall part in pity;?You have not here either house or home.?You soon shall dwell in that narrow city,?Where sun and moon never lit the dome;
Where crest and foil?At the gate shall crumble--?And, from his toil,?Be released the humble;?Where captives' fetters, and love's sweet band,?Shall, fragile, break by the same strong hand.
Where is your wife, and where is your mother?--?Then they have wandered away that road,?Whence none returneth to greet another,?The foot-path, soon, to _your_ last abode....
Take tender care of?The charge God left thee,?Ere, unaware of,?It be bereft thee,?Before your eyes nevermore to mount,?Till for its keeping you shall account!
"Where is your brother? Where is your equal?"?Will _then_ be questions too late to heed.?You _then_ find brethren--such is the sequel--?You spiteful rich, in the worms you feed!
And when they fattened,?Like you, expire,?A reptile battened?Shall growth acquire,?Whose stings and gnawing shall never cease.?Upon your conscience, devoid of peace.
For you it waits, you, whose greed is preying?On mishap's victims, on joy forlorn;?Who, faith and country alike betraying,?The good deride and the sacred scorn;
Who, laws repressing?And hearts decoying,?Are virtue's blessing,?For fun, destroying--?And woe is fun's and derision's prize,?When, pale, the phantoms of vengeance rise.
For you it waits, all ye lying spirits,?When, stiff, the tongue to the palate sticks.?Your tongue would poison all honest merits,?Defiling honor by artful tricks;--
But, at my bar,?There is no demurrer:?The tomb I spar,?And I gag the slurrer,--?Who next thereafter, when speech is past,?To _Him_ shall answer, who judges last!
Then search, with rigor, your minds' desire,?Then probe, in tremor, your souls' intent;?With hands and hearts clean and pure, aspire?To _Him_ who knows what, within, you meant.
Yet, thither, mortals,?Your way is wending,?Where, on the portals,?Till time be ending,?There stands this sentence, without reprieve:?Here all shall enter--and none shall leave!
The earth devours you, with your achievements,?And locks together its jaws again,?If by beneficence, or bereavements,?You cheered, or injured, your fellow men--
But of this earth?Do not ask your measure;?For, if in dearth,?Or if blest with treasure,?Your past, your present, what hence befall?_He_ only knoweth, Who knoweth all.
What God requires of man, He told thee;?He meted out, for your life's career,?What griefs should bend, and what cheers uphold thee?And what you had to accomplish here.
His power wrought you?What you transacted,?And wisdom taught you?That right you acted,?If but you heard, from submissive choice,?The great celestial spirit's voice.
Attend the voice of the spirit sounder,?With upright steps, in His errand walk;?And, then, not question if you shall founder,?Nor care for grateful, or thankless, talk!
Fulfill your calling?With courage peerless!?If even falling,?Look upward fearless!?Then there shall clasp thee an angel's hand?And gently lead to