Hesperus: A Legend Of The Stars.

PRELUDE.     The Stars are heaven's ministers;     Right royally they teach     God's glory and omnipotence,     In wondrous lowly speech.     All eloquent with music as     The tremblings of a lyre,     To him that hath an ear to hear     They speak in words of fire.     Not to learned sagas only     Their whisperings come down;     The monarch is not glorified     Because he wears a crown.     The humblest soldier in the camp     Can win the smile of Mars,     And 'tis the lowliest spirits hold     Communion with the stars.     Thoughts too refined for utterance,     Ethereal as the air,     Crowd through the brain's dim labyrinths,     And leave their impress there;     As far along the gleaming void     Man's tender glances roll,     Wonder usurps the throne of speech,     But vivifies the soul.     Oh, heaven-cradled mysteries,     What sacred paths ye've trod -     Bright, jewelled scintillations from     The chariot-wheels of God!     When in the spirit He rode forth,     With vast creative aim,     These were His footprints left behind,     To magnify His name!                  -    -    -     We gazed on the Evening Star,     Mary and I,     As it shone     On its throne         Afar,     In the blue sky;     Shone like a ransomed soul     In the depths of that quiet heaven;     Like a pearly tear,     Trembling with fear     On the pallid cheek of Even.     And I thought of the myriad souls     Gazing with human eyes     On the light of that star,     Shining afar,     In the quiet evening skies;     Some with winged hope,     Clearing the cope     Of heaven as swift as light,     Others, with souls     Blind as the moles,     Sinking in rayless night.     Dreams such as dreamers dream     Flitted before our eyes;         Beautiful visions! -         Angelo's, Titian's,     Had never more gorgeous dyes:     We soared with the angels     Through vistas of glory,     We heard the evangels     Relate the glad story     Of the beautiful star,     Shining afar     In the quiet evening skies.     And we gazed and dreamed,     Till our spirits seemed     Absorbed in the stellar world;     Sorrow was swallowed up,     Drained was the bitter cup     Of earth to the very lees;     And we sailed over seas     Of white vapour that whirled     Through the skies afar,     Angels our charioteers,     Threading the endless spheres,     And to the chorus of angels     Rehearsed the evangels     The Birth of the Evening Star.                  -    -    -     I.             Far back in the infant ages,     Before the eras stamped their autographs     Upon the stony records of the earth;     Before the burning incense of the sun             Rolled up the interlucent space,             Brightening the blank abyss;             Ere the Recording Angel's tears             Were shed for man's transgressions:             A Seraph, with a face of light,     And hair like heaven's golden atmosphere,     Blue eyes serene in their beatitude,             Godlike in their tranquillity,     Features as perfect as God's dearest work,             And stature worthy of her race,     Lived high exalted in the sacred sphere     That floated in a sea of harmony     Translucent as pure crystal, or the light     That flowed, unceasing, from this higher world     Unto the spheres beneath it.    Far below     The extremest regions underneath the Earth     The first spheres rose, of vari-coloured light,     In calm rotation through arial deep,     Like seas of jasper, blue, and coralline,     Crystal and violet; layers of worlds -     The robes of ages that had passed away,     Left as memorials of their sojournings.     For nothing passes wholly.    All is changed.     The Years but slumber in their sepulchres,     And speak prophetic meanings in their sleep.     FIRST ANGEL.     Oh, how our souls are gladdened,     When we think of that brave old age,         When God's light came down         From heaven, to crown     Each act of the virgin page!     Oh, how our souls are saddened,     At the deeds which were done since then,         By the angel race         In the holy place,     And on earth by the sons of men!     Lo, as the years are fleeting,     With their burden of toil and pain,         We know that the page         Of that primal age     Will be opened up once again.     II.     Progressing still, the bright-faced Seraph rose     From Goodness to Perfection, till she stood     The fairest and the best of all that waked     The tuneful echoes of that lofty world,     Where Lucifer, then the stateliest of the throng     Of Angels, walked majestical, arrayed     In robes of brightness worthy of his place.     And all the intermediate spheres were homes             Of the existences             Of spiritual life.     Love, the divine arcanum, was the bond     That linked them to each other - heart to heart,     And angel world to world, and soul to soul.             Thus the first ages passed,             Cycles of perfect bliss,     God the acknowledged sovereign of all.     Sphere spake with sphere, and love conversed with love,     From the far centre to sublimest height,     And down the deep, unfathomable space,     To the remotest homes of angel-life,     A viewless chain of being circling all,     And linking every spirit to its God.     ANGEL CHORUS.     Spirits that never falter,     Before God's altar     Rehearse their paeans of unceasing praise;     Their theme the boundless love     By which God rules above,     Mysteriously engrafted     On grace divine, and wafted     Into every soul of man that disobeys.     Not till the wondrous being     Of the All-Seeing     Is manifested to finite man,     Can ye understand the love     By which God rules above,     Evermore extending,     In circles never-ending,     To every atom in the universal plan.     SECOND ANGEL.     Oh, the love beyond computing     Of the high and holy place!     The unseen bond     Circling beyond     The limits of time and space.     Through earth and her world of beauty     The heavenly links extend,         Man feels its presence,         Imbibes its essence,     But cannot yet comprehend.     THIRD ANGEL.     But the days are fast approaching,     When the Father of Love will send         His interpreter         From the highest sphere,     That man fully may comprehend.     III.     Oh, truest Love, because the truest life!     Oh, blest existence, to exist with Love!     Oh, Love, without which all things else must die     The death that knows no waking unto life!     Oh, Jealousy that saps the heart of Love,     And robs it of its tenderness divine;     And Pride, that tramples with its iron hoof     Upon the flower of love, whose fragrant soul     Exhales itself in sweetness as it dies!     A lofty spirit surfeited with Bliss!     A Prince of Angels cancelling all love,     All due allegiance to his rightful Lord;     Doing dishonour to his high estate;     Turning the truth and wisdom which were his     For ages of supreme felicity,     To thirst for power, and hatred of his God,     Who raised him to such vast preminence!     SECOND ANGEL CHORUS.     Woe, woe to the ransomed spirit,     Once freed from the stain of sin,         Whose pride increases         Till all love ceases     To nourish it from within!     Its doom is the darkened regions     Where the rebel angel legions     Live their long night of sorrow;     Where no expectant morrow,     No mercy-tempered ray     From the altar of to-day,     Comes down through the gloom to borrow     One drop from their cup of sorrow,     Or lighten their cheerless way.     {19}     FIRST ANGEL.     But blest be the gentle spirit     Whose love is ever increased         From its own pure soul,         The illumined goal     Where Love holds perpetual feast!     IV.     Ingrate Angel, he,     To purchase Hell, and at so vast a price!     'Tis the old story of celestial strife -     Rebellion in the palace-halls of God -     False angels joining the insurgent ranks,     Who suffered dire defeats, and fell at last     From bliss supreme to darkness and despair.     But they, the faithful dwellers in the spheres,     Who kept their souls inviolate, to whom     Heaven's love and truth were truly great rewards:     For these the stars were sown throughout all space,     As fit memorials of their faithfulness.     The wretched lost were banished to the depths     Beneath the lowest spheres.    Earth barred the space     Between them and the Faithful.    Then the hills     Rose bald and rugged o'er the wild abyss;     The waters found their places; and the sun,     The bright-haired warder of the golden morn,     Parting the curtains of reposing night,     Rung his first challenge to the dismal shades,     That shrunk back, awed, into Cimmerean gloom;     And the young moon glode through the startled void     With quiet beauty and majestic mien.     {20}     SECOND ANGEL.     Slowly rose the daedal Earth,     Through the purple-hued abysm     Glowing like a gorgeous prism,     Heaven exulting o'er its birth,     Still the mighty wonder came,     Through the jasper-coloured sphere,     Ether-winged, and crystal-clear,     Trembling to the loud acclaim,     In a haze of golden rain,     Up the heavens rolled the sun,     Danae-like the earth was won,     Else his love and light were vain.     So the heart and soul of man     Own the light and love of heaven,     Nothing yet in vain was given,     Nature's is a perfect plan.     V.     The glowing Seraph with the brow of light     Was first among the Faithful.    When the war     Between heaven's rival armies fiercely waged,     She bore the Will Divine from rank to rank,     The chosen courier of Deity.     Her presence cheered the combatants for Truth,     And Victory stood up where'er she moved.     And now, in gleaming robe of woven pearl,     Emblazoned with devices of the stars,     And legends of their glory yet to come,     The type of Beauty Intellectual,     The representative of Love and Truth,     She moves first in the innumerable throng     Of angels congregating to behold     The crowning wonder of creative power.     THIRD ANGEL CHORUS,     Oh, joy, that no mortal can fathom,     To rejoice in the smile of God!         To be first in the light         Of His Holy sight,     And freed from His chastening rod.     Faithful, indeed, that soul, to be     The messenger of Deity!     FIRST ANGEL.     This, this is the chosen spirit,     Whose love is ever increased         From its own pare soul,         The illumined goal     Where Love holds perpetual feast.     VI.     With noiseless speed the angel charioteers     In dazzling splendour all triumphant rode;     Through seas of ether painfully serene,     That flashed a golden, phosphorescent spray,     As luminous as the sun's intensest beams,     Athwart the wide, interminable space.     Legion on legion of the sons of God;     Vast phalanxes of graceful cherubim;     Innumerable multitudes and ranks     Of all the hosts and hierarchs of heaven,     Moved by one universal impulse, urged     Their steeds of swiftness up the arch of light,     From sphere to sphere increasing as they came,     Till world on world was emptied of its race.     Upward, with unimaginable speed,     The myriads, congregating zenith-ward,     Reached the far confines of the utmost sphere,     The home of Truth, the dwelling-place of Love,     Striking celestial symphonies divine     From the resounding sea of melody,     That heaved in swells of soft, mellifluous sound,     To the blest crowds at whose triumphal tread     Its soul of sweetness waked in thrills sublime,     The sun stood poised upon the western verge;     The moon paused, waiting for the march of earth,     That stayed to watch the advent of the stars;     And ocean hushed its very deepest deeps             In grateful expectation.     SECOND ANGEL.     Still through the viewless regions     Of the habitable air,         Through the ether ocean,         In unceasing motion,     Pass the multitudinous legions     Of angels everywhere.     Bearing each new-born spirit     Through the interlucent void         To its starry dwelling,         Angel anthems telling     Every earthly deed of merit     To each flashing asteroid.     THIRD ANGEL.     Through the realms sidereal,     Clothed with the immaterial,     Far as the fields elysian     In starry bloom extend,     The stretch of angel vision     Can see and comprehend.     VII.     Innumerable as the ocean sands     The angel concourse in due order stood,     In meek anticipation waiting for         The new-created orbs,         Still hidden in the deep     And unseen laboratory, where     Not even angel eyes could penetrate:     A star for each of that angelic host,     Memorials of their faithfulness and love.     The Evening Star, God's bright eternal gift     To the pure Seraph with the brow of light,     And named for her, mild Hesperus,     Came twinkling down the unencumbered blue,     On viewless wings of sweet melodious sound,     Beauty and grace presiding at its birth.     Celestial plaudits sweeping through the skies     Waked resonant paeans, till the concave thrilled     Through its illimitable bounds.         With a sudden burst     Of light, that lit the universal space     As with a flame of crystal,         Rousing the Soul of Joy     That slumbered in the patient sea,     From every point of heaven the hurrying cars     Conveyed the constellations to their thrones -     The throbbing planets, and the burning suns,     Erratic comets, and the various grades     And magnitudes of palpitating stars.     From the far arctic and antarctic zones,     Through all the vast, surrounding infinite,     A wilderness of intermingling orbs,     The gleaming wonders, pulsing earthward, came;         Each to its destined place,         Each in itself a world,     With all its coining myriad life,     Drawing us nearer the Omnipotent,     With hearts of wonder, and with souls of praise:     Astrea, Pallas, strange Aldebaran,     The Pleiads, Arcturus, the ruddy Mars,     Pale Saturn, Ceres and Orion -     All as they circle still     Through the enraptured void.     For each young angel born to us from earth,     A new-made star is launched among its peers.     FULL ANGEL CHORUS.     Dreamer in the realms arial,     Searcher for the true and good,     Hoper for the high, ethereal     Limit of Beatitude,     Lift thy heart to heaven, for there     Is embalmed thy spirit prayer:     Not in words is shrined thy prayer,     But thy Thought awaits thee there.     God loves the silent worshipper.     The grandest hymn     That nature chants - the litany     Of the rejoicing stars - is silent praise.     Their nightly anthems stir     The souls of lofty seraphim     In the remotest heaven.    The melody     Descends in throbbings of celestial light     Into the heart of man, whose upward gaze,     And meditative aspect, tell     Of the heart's incense passing up the night.     Above the crystalline height     The theme of thoughtful praise ascends.     Not from the wildest swell     Of the vexed ocean soars the fullest psalm;     But in the evening calm,     And in the solemn midnight, silence blends     With silence, and to the ear     Attuned to harmony divine     Begets a strain     Whose trance-like stillness wakes delicious pain.     The silent tear     Holds keener anguish in its orb of brine,     Deeper and truer grief     Than the loud wail that brings relief,     As thunder clears the atmosphere.     But the deep, tearless Sorrow, - how profound!     Unspoken to the ear     Of sense, 'tis yet as eloquent a sound     As that which wakes the lyre     Of the rejoicing Day, when     Morn on the mountains lights his urn of fire.     The flowers of the glen     Rejoice in silence; huge pines stand apart     Upon the lofty hills, and sigh     Their woes to every breeze that passeth by;     The willow tells its mournful tale     So tenderly, that e'en the passing gale     Bears not a murmur on its wings     Of what the spirit sings     That breathes its trembling thoughts through all the             drooping strings.     He loves God most who worships most     In the obedient heart.     The thunder's noisome boast,     What is it to the violet lightning thought?     So with the burning passion of the stars -     Creation's diamond sands,     Strewn along the pearly strands,     And far-extending corridors     Of heaven's blooming shores;     No scintil of their jewelled flame     But wafts the exquisite essence     Of prayer to the Eternal Presence,     Of praise to the Eternal Name.     The silent prayer unbars     The gates of Paradise, while the too-intimate,     Self-righteous' boast, strikes rudely at the gate     Of heaven, unknowing why it does not open to     Their summons, as they see pale Silence passing through.     VIII.     In grateful admiration, till the Dawn     Withdrew the gleaming curtains of the night,     We watched the whirling systems, until each     Could recognize their own peculiar star;         When, with the swift celerity         Of Fancy-footed Thought,     The light-caparisoned, arial steeds,         Shod with rare fleetness,     Revisited the farthest of the spheres     Ere the earth's sun had kissed the mountain tops,     Or shook the sea-pearls from his locks of gold.                  -    -    -         Still on the Evening Star         Gazed we with steadfast eyes,                 As it shone                 On its throne                     Afar,         In the blue skies.         No longer the charioteers         Dashed through the gleaming spheres;         No more the evangels             Rehearsed the glad story;         But, in passing, the angels             Left footprints of glory:         For up the starry void         Bright-flashing asteroid,         Pale moon and starry choir,         Aided by Fancy's fire,         Rung from the glittering lyre         Changes of song and hymn,         Worthy of Seraphim.     Night's shepherdess sat, queenlike, on her throne,     Watching her starry flocks from zone to zone,     While we, like mortals turned to breathing stone,     Intently pondered on the Known Unknown.