^ 
 
 
 
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 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 
 jasi 
 
 L..»<»--^*''>-*'^'
 
 Lurida Lumina 
 
 m 
 
 THE AUTHOR OF " JONAS FISHER" 
 
 NOT PUBLISHED 
 
 EDINBURGH 
 
 PRINTED FOR EDMONSTON & DOUGLAS 
 
 18 7 6 
 
 [^All Mights Meserved^
 
 BRECHIN 
 D. H. EDWARDS, PRINTIB.
 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 The poem contained in tliis volume was written in 
 1874, — previously to "Jonas Fisher," in wliich a real 
 reference is made to it. 
 
 The subject requiring an imaginary occupation of our 
 own country by hostile forces, a French army has been 
 chosen to playthe invader's part, with some of its too usual 
 sad and horrible accompaniments. But in making such 
 choice the axithor wishes it understood that he had no 
 design to vilify the great Gallic nation : his field of 
 selection was practically limited to France or G ermany, 
 and he chose the former as more suitable for his pui-posc, 
 just as, a few years ago, the author of the " Battle of 
 Dorldng" chose the latter for similar reasons. 
 
 In view of the orderly conduct of the German troops 
 while occupying France during the late war, it would 
 have been absvu'd to use them as types of disorder 
 in an imaginary campaign. On the other hand, the 
 behaviour of the French in Spain and Portugal thi-ough- 
 
 937838
 
 riJEFACE. 
 
 out tlie reninsular wars of this niueteeiitli century (to 
 say nothing of tales of horror from Algeria), renders 
 probable tlie ascription to their soldiery of crimes of 
 violence towards the helpless inliabitants of a land 
 oviT-run by their invading legions. 
 
 As regards tlie young captain to whom a villainous 
 role is assigned, the aiithor wishes him to be viewed as 
 one uf those exceptional wretches wlio may disgrace the 
 officer-uniform of any army, and not in the least degree 
 as a typical specimen of tlie French officer of this present 
 period, or of any recent past or presumable future ; as, 
 in like manner, tlie supposed teller of the poem's tale is 
 far from being meant to typify an ordinary officer of 
 British volunteers. 
 
 On the contrasted behaviour of the French and German 
 armies while occupying an enemy's country, a highly in- 
 teresting article will be found in the "■ Pall Mall Gazette" 
 of April 7, 187-1.
 
 LURIDA LUMIFA
 
 'AuorsTUS Geace" loq. 
 
 '^ My poem is a rhajysody, 
 
 In figure of a fitful dream ; 
 
 Wrongs to the guiltless, sorrow, rage, 
 
 Fierce vengeance, form its earlier theme. 
 
 And the7% it seeks that hidden world 
 Jiliich lies beyond the corpse's toml ; 
 Descends to Hades, to the souls 
 Of sinners suffering in the gloom ; 
 
 Visits a lower Paradise, 
 On infant souls to set its gaze ; 
 Ascends to Heaven's majestic gates 
 And sees the outmost glories blazed 
 
 ''Jonas Fistier :" 
 Part v., v(T. CI, 02, 63.
 
 LURIDA LUMINA. 
 
 The moonbeams la}^ low on the wild rocky liill ; 
 
 Tlie caverns gaped black, and the snow-wreaths hung 
 
 The frost-fang bit keenly, the breezes were still ; [chill ; 
 
 Old Earth lay stark and cold. 
 And I gazed from my bed ; and my spirit took wings, 
 And explored past and present and forthcoming things ; 
 And my soul dreamed a dream : to my memory it clings. 
 
 And thus shall it be told : — 
 
 'Twas a colourless noon in the Autumn's eclipse, 
 And the robin sang soft 'mid the haws and the hips, 
 And a silent grey fog spread its blight-bearing mass 
 O'er garden, o'er woodland, o'er terrace, o'er grass : 
 
 A shroud of woe — of woe ! 
 For a ruthless invader had entered our land, 
 He had ruined our homes with his red right hand : 
 Yea, wherever tlie steps of these recreants fall 
 They rob, slay, and ravage, in cottage and hull ; 
 
 AVhile fiends with rapture glow.
 
 4 LURID A LUMIXA. 
 
 But, good tliauks to our sturdy old Norseman strain, 
 AVe had di'iven the knaves tow'rds their ships again ; 
 Heaps on heaps lay our comrades to stiffen in gore — 
 "WTiat recked we ! those cursed ones suffered the more, 
 
 Their souls went packing pell-mell. 
 But so strong was their host in its ordered array, 
 Halting oft in retreat like a tiger at bay. 
 That our brave volunteers could not put them to rout, 
 Though they pressed on their columns and drove them 
 
 And they did the deeds of Hell. [about ; 
 
 Xow that morn, in the time of the year's eclipse. 
 As we pressed them hard on their way to the ships — 
 
 The foe was put to his speed, — 
 They showed front for an houi' in an ancient hall. 
 Ah ! 'twas there that my wife and my loved ones all 
 Were abiding in peace. How my heart made call 
 
 On Heav'n to help their need ! 
 
 The house was no castle, no building of strength ; 
 AVide windows and doorways divided its length, 
 
 Struck by one shell 'twould reel. 
 Not a field-piece is up. Shall we wait ? Nay, time calls: 
 So, instead of explosives or ponderous balls, 
 We hurl our own selves at the death-dealing walls, 
 
 To take the place with cold steel.
 
 LUEIDA LVMIXA. 5 
 
 From the -windows above and the windows below 
 "We are pelted with ball bj the fortified foe, 
 
 Aud the lawn is an open plain : 
 But we rush under lee of the terrace height, 
 And rally. Then, swift as the flashing of light, 
 
 Away ! and at them again. 
 
 * ii- H- * 
 
 The high terrace wall and the steps are passed ; 
 Their bullets come sweeping like hail on the blast, 
 
 And again we are open to view. 
 'V\Tio screams that wild scream fi'om the shores of the 
 He falls at my feet with his arms outspread, [dead ? 
 
 And his blood gushes over the mignonette bed, 
 A ball in his heart and a ball in his head : 
 
 Ah, brother, it was 3-ou I 
 
 * * « *- 
 
 We swarm up the steps of the balcony stair, 
 
 Aud burst through the pillow-piled casements. Ha 
 
 Each bayonet went in straight. [there ! 
 
 We pitch them aloft, like the loading of carts ; 
 We pierce them and cleave them and hew them in parts ; 
 
 Small mind have they to wait ! 
 We rush thi'ough the library, empty again 
 Of all save a heap of dead bodies of men — 
 
 Away ! to the entrance gate !
 
 b , LTUIDA LrNflXA. 
 
 liut I, dragged by the cords at my heart's deep root, 
 Tit Id me back from the rest in the hot pursuit : 
 
 After the foe they sped ; 
 Wliile I traversed long corridors, hasting alone 
 To the rooms that my dearest ones used as their oaa^u. 
 
 How shook my soul with dread ! 
 Oil, what thoughts came and went. Now, strong fear 
 
 cried, ' Alas ! 
 Brace thy mind up for woe : ne'er unscathed could thoy 
 
 pass 
 Through that murderous band.' Rut hope whispered, 
 
 ' Eejoice, 
 All thy l(jved ones are safe. At the sound of thy voice 
 They will leave some sure hiding-place. Then at thy 
 choice' . . . 
 
 What is this ? — this thing that lies dead! 
 'Tis my dear little school-boy — how ghastly ! how chill ! 
 His sweet features death-pale, his lips rigid and still, 
 His fair locks dabbled with red. 
 
 One poor, weak, little hand spread its fingers all flat, 
 But the other still clutched at a small cricket-bat — 
 
 Brave weapon for one so young. 
 "Ah, ray child, didst thou figlit for thy motlier like that — 
 To defy the strong men with thy small cricket-bat ! 
 
 Now thy bat and thy soul are sprung."
 
 LURID A LUAIIXA. I 
 
 As in isles wliere fierce sun-beams through tinil)(n--trees 
 Turning fibres to iron, and sap to fused brass, [pass, 
 The wild savage's death-dealing war-club falls fair 
 On the broad-fronted skull of a beast in its lair, — 
 
 So Hell's club fell on me. 
 1 staggered, and gasped, and my heart stood still, 
 And my brains went awhirl like the sails of a mill ; 
 And a shiver ran through me, my nerves became lead. 
 Now I moved half alive, now I stumbled half dead ; 
 
 My eyes had no light to see. 
 
 Then, bewildered and dazed, I continued my way 
 Through the door, which in splinters confusedly lay ; 
 But my senses returned while I struggled to creep 
 O'er the ruins that rose in a mountainous heap : — 
 
 Ruin shall rule for ever ! 
 Chairs, tables, and sofas in fragments upborne, 
 Books, pictures, fair vases, all broken or torn, 
 Bright flow'rs crushed, and hurled o'er the chaos of 
 
 things, 
 A camellia entwined with a shattered harp's strings : — 
 Music returneth never ! 
 
 There, oh there, still" and dead, lay the life of my life, 
 The true soul of my soul, my beloved, my wife. 
 ' ' my lily, my love, thou heart of my heart ! 
 God gladden thee, sweetest, wherever thou art."
 
 O LUEIDA LUMIXA. 
 
 Music, sweetness, for ever ai'e done : 
 AVeeping, and moaning, and wailing begun. 
 
 As a Lull in a net, wliom the liunters o'ertlirow, 
 Eoareth loud in liis rage, writlieth wild in liis woe, 
 Beats the soU with his head till earth's caverns do quake, 
 Eoars and bellows so strong that the forest doth shake, — 
 
 So I writhed, and roared to the sky. 
 But a coldness of tombs soon crept chiU on my soul — 
 Though one fumace-spot glowed — and it brought me 
 control 
 
 O'er the madness that tliundered so high. 
 
 Then I rose to my knees : — " thou Being up there !" 
 — And my breath came reversed, in the strength of my 
 
 prayer — 
 " Hast thou eyes that can see ? Hast thou feelings that 
 
 yearn ? 
 Hast thou ears that can hear ? Hast thou sense to 
 
 Beliold the deeds of these men ! [discern ? 
 my Lord, my God, great fountain of might. 
 Bend thy thoughts to this problem and set this wi'ong 
 
 right : 
 In thy wisdom — thy genius — devise some vast plan, 
 Never thought of before, for the torment of man, — 
 
 Some woe to transcend all ken. 
 May they linger for ever in darkness and chains,
 
 LURIDA LUMIXA. 
 
 "With Hell's worm in their hearts, and Heav'ns fire in 
 
 their brains ; 
 Give such growth to their anguish, for ever and aye. 
 That a Heav'n will seem lost at the close of each day. 
 As the new woe outmasters the woe passed away. 
 Amen, amen, and amen." 
 
 Then such whii-lwinds of agony brought me to bow, 
 That I lay down and groaned : lo, I felt on my brow 
 Warm touches, dropjied softly as dewdrops might fall ; 
 'Twas the gentle small dog long beloved by us all, 
 
 The pet of my dear slain boy. 
 Eememb'ring past play-times it rose up to beg ; 
 But the blood trickled fast from its broken foreleg, 
 And its soft skin was gashed with deep wounds in the 
 . side 
 
 '' sank down and died. 
 Its good spirit went to joy. 
 
 Ah ! these are the moments that rend one in twain ; 
 But the world still rolls on, and we cannot remain 
 
 To gi-ovel to Fate like a slave. 
 I rose ; then I tenderly lifted my wife 
 From the j)lace where in sorrow she sighed out her life. 
 I smoothed her lace handkerchief over her breast, 
 And down on a cushion I laid her, to rest 
 
 Till we laid her to rest in her grave.
 
 10 LURIDA LIIMINA. 
 
 "Alas ! ah alas ! Canst thou leave mo my love ? 
 Ah, my rose of all roses ! my tender white dove ! 
 Return ! oh return ! oh return unto mo ! 
 Bring thy life back to mine, or take mine unto thee." 
 Thus did I mourn and rave. 
 
 Hark ! what is that music, so soft yet so clear, 
 So sad in its mildness, so grave in its cheer ? — 
 
 past by those notes recalled ! — 
 The delicate music more plainly I heard ; 
 It was naught but the song of the little tamo bird 
 That we took from its nest as we wandered together, 
 My darling and I, midst the pines and the heather, 
 
 Far, far, in the Thiiringer Wald. 
 
 ' Ach, wie ist's mbglich'daim, 
 Dasa ich dich lassen kann r* 
 Hab' dich von herzcn lieb, 
 Das glaubc mir. 
 Du hast die secle mein 
 So ganz genommen eiii, 
 Dass ich kcin aiidre lieb' 
 Als difh allein.'* 
 
 " Alas ! and alas ! can I leave thee my love ? 
 
 Bid thy body farewell ? — though thy soul is above. 
 
 * There are several versions of tliis old Thiirinyiau song ; the 
 above iw believed to be the best.
 
 LTJEIDA LUMINA. 11 
 
 Impossible — ever with thee will I wait. 
 Yea, possible, — all things are so unto fate." 
 
 Music, sweetness, for ever are done ; 
 Sighing, longing, slow sorrowing, begun. 
 The game for my heart to its end hath run : 
 Joy hath lost, — Grief hath won. 
 
 I followed my comrades. Short distance to go 
 Till I found them again, at the front of the foe ; 
 For the fugitive miscreants their flight had made good 
 To a wing of their army, entrenched in a wood. 
 
 With a strong artillery power. 
 There were palisades, ditches quick sunk in the ground, 
 Guns gajDed their wide muzzles and mitrailloui*s frowned ; 
 There were trous-de-loup planted with rifles and pikes. 
 There were blade-bearing beams with a forest of spikes : 
 
 They were safe, at least for the hour. 
 
 But to wait in contentment, in peace to remain, 
 
 Till our forces arrived and our battering- train ; 
 
 To wait days and long nights — with the chance of a slip 
 
 'Twixt the cup of revenge and my fury-parched lip — 
 
 Not this ! did my spirit say. 
 Ere the sot of the sun musit my hatred be fed,
 
 12 LIUUDA LUMIXA. 
 
 The dry tears on my cheek be bedahbled with red, 
 In wet blood washed away. 
 
 So I brought to the front the most choice of my men, — 
 Hough hill-folk, fierce lads of the forest and glen ; 
 They could climb like the marten, and Itouud like the 
 
 stoat, 
 Like the wild-cat spring straight at an enemy's throat, 
 
 Like the fox creep soft on their game. 
 Then I called the old Sergeant, — each hill-man he knew, 
 Ivnew his strength, speed and courage, what deeds ho 
 
 could do, — 
 A grim ciirl-bearded ancient, hard, war}', astute, 
 Vast of chest, long of grasp, eye as eagle's acute, 
 A stark bull in the fight, a keen hound in pursuit : 
 Time could not damage that frame. 
 
 " Hark, Donald," I whispered, " I plan to sui-priso 
 A strong outpost, close by the entrenchment it lies. 
 On the flat at the top of the rocks that uprise 
 
 Above the pool by the ford. 
 Muster forty strong fellows, the best you can find, 
 Smart runners and climbers : leave rifles behind, — 
 
 Coats, pouches, beside them stored." 
 The men were soon chosen, and drawn up apart, 
 And Donald harangued them with words to the lie^rt : 
 
 Few words could I ac(-ord.
 
 LUKIDA LUMI^"A. 13 
 
 " Well laddies !" said lie, " we are off to a dance 
 WTiere ye'll need all your legs. There's a kind of a chance 
 "We will find yon folks' ball-room o'er hot ; then, I say, 
 De'il take him that's the hindmost in getting away !" — 
 
 Gaily the fellows grin. 
 " Off jackets ! grey shirts for work, for work: 
 Down with the rifle, — hey ! for the dirk ; 
 Yon's your boy, with a whish and a yerk. 
 
 To tickle a roguey's skin 1" 
 * a- ■?.- * 
 
 Away we go, at a swinging stride, 
 Till we reach the deep bank at the river side ; 
 Then, each crouching closely in stillness profound, 
 AVe crawl like long adders, we cling to the ground, 
 
 And thus we ascend the rock. 
 Concealed by thick bushes, we near the ledge : 
 In a waiTU, sheltered hollow, just under the edge, 
 
 A sentry stands like a stock. 
 
 From above, at the shoulder, strong Donald strikes full, 
 But the man gives a start — the dirk enters his skull 
 
 So deep 'tis hard to free. 
 One tugs out the blade, while another one lays 
 Himself on the soldier and earthward weighs 
 His struggling body ; which up they raise 
 
 When stilled it seems to be,
 
 14 LUMDA LrMIXA. 
 
 But it slips from their hands Mith a quivor and glide, 
 And rolls down the rock to the torrent's tide, 
 Then off to the roaring sea. 
 
 The toj) is now reached : with a spruce for our screen 
 We can gaze at the spoilers. All ! this is the scene 
 
 To our vengeful eyes displayed : — 
 In groups they are heedlessly scattered around, 
 'Mong the trees some are seated, some stretched on the 
 
 ground ; 
 The most have their limbs with fresh bandages bound. 
 
 Some groaning apart are laid. 
 joy ! mark these badges, these colours ! no doubt 
 It is they, — the curs'd crew we had put to the rout — 
 
 ^\^lose hands my ruin had made. 
 
 By themselves crouch'd three girls ; they were weeping 
 
 forlorn, 
 Their hair was dishevelled, their dresses were torn, 
 
 Low drooped each sorrowful face. 
 Said Donald — his voice was as one fi'om the grave — 
 " Poor lassies ! not Hell nor his army shall save 
 
 Them that wrought that disgrace." 
 
 On a bank, near a tent rather lofty and wide, 
 Sat a man, half-reclining, a girl at his side. 
 By his loathsome gazo defiled.
 
 LUEIDA LUMIXA. 15 
 
 A gentleman he — just as far as tlie skin, — 
 A sleek courtier without, a foul vampire within ; 
 Fleshy lipp'd, his black eyes of an insolent glow, 
 Smart-booted, white-handed ; a student ? e'en so — 
 Of Baudelaire the leprous, and fulsome Foydeau. 
 
 Hell ! how his foul mouth smiled, 
 lie glared at the girl. She sat silent and still, 
 Like a sibylline statue, hard, ghastly and chill. 
 
 That girl was my own dear child. 
 
 A bottle of wine on the table is placed 
 
 Beside them. He moves. He encircles her waist : 
 
 The merry bright wine he sips. 
 " Buvez, ma marguerite ! — Belle a distraii'e, — 
 Ah ! la blonde tourterelle — Buvez ma chere!" — 
 
 He holds the glass to her lij)s. 
 
 As in realms of the north, where the ice-fields lie wide, 
 The hot geyser bursts forth from the stony hill-side, 
 Leaps Heav'n-ward with swift irresistible might, 
 Then Hell- ward descends to the caverns of night, — 
 
 So, we fell upon them straight. 
 I dashed that heau capitaine down to the ground, 
 And I twisted his head right round and round 
 
 Till I heard his vertebree grate.
 
 16 LfRIDA LUMINA. 
 
 And I felt in ni}' belt for 1113- whittle clear, 
 The knife that I carried to finish the deer, 
 And I grapj)led his collar and waistband trim, 
 And I turned up his face, and I finished him, — 
 
 I clove his carrion heart. 
 He shivered and quivered, — I spurned him aside, 
 And left him to roll in the ruddy-black tide ; 
 His body, to fatten the place where ke died, 
 
 His soul, for Hell to start. 
 
 To my daughter I turned : — " Child, I give thee this 
 
 knife ; 
 Yon filth that annoyed thee, 'tis wet with his life. 
 
 Love, kiss, and cherish the blade. 
 And think not, my darling, to rest any more 
 Till anew by thyself it is feasted with gore. 
 A rifle I'll give thee, — I'll teach thee to kill ; 
 And as falls a new foe, thou shalt cry to him still, 
 
 ' That wound thine own liand made.' " 
 
 She looked at me, — sad, yet mild, clear, and serene, 
 As the moon views a land where a tempest hath been,- 
 
 Her soft voice rose to the sky : 
 " My father, brave warriors such weapons may own, 
 A pure maid uses none — save in one case alone — 
 
 Praise God! a maiden am I."
 
 LUKIDA LTJMIXA. 17 
 
 Slio fell on her knees, and her hands she raised, 
 
 And her sweet eyes wept, and her sweet lix^s praised, — 
 
 She praised the Lord on high. 
 Then np sprang a girl, — she was slender and weak, 
 And a bright hectic colour flushed hot on her cheek : — 
 ' ' Give, oh ! give me a rifle, and let me be drest 
 As a man, — like a man I will shoot with the best ! " 
 
 She swoons: ah me ! what a sigh. 
 
 " Hoots sir! " says Donald, " it's time to step ; 
 Yon devils are swarming like bees from a skcp." 
 
 They now brought guns to bear. 
 Whish ! comes a shell. Eight amongst us it hits, 
 And a Scot and three prisoners are spinning in bits : 
 
 Small good to linger there. 
 
 So we gathered our force, and away we ran ; 
 Some carried a woman, some dragged off a man ; 
 Two soldiers old Donald seized hard by their throats, 
 And he drove them along as a lion drives goats : 
 
 Down the rocks we pressed. 
 "We were well on our way ere the enemy got 
 To the edge of the cliff ; then their bullets came hot. 
 
 Some lads were sent to their rest ; 
 But a few paces more set us safe from harm. 
 My daughter ! how strangely she sinks from my arm !
 
 18 LUKIDA LUMIXA. 
 
 — A ball was tlirouerh hor broast. 
 
 o 
 
 ' ' Music ! — Sweetness ! — Metliinks that before 
 
 I have heard of such fancies : — no more — no more ! 
 
 Ha ha ! I can kill, though I cannot restore." 
 
 I look round at my men, they right well understand, 
 For each eye seeks the pris'ners, — a villainous band 
 
 Whose presence the earth aggrieves. 
 " Take them," said I, " through the garden gate : 
 Hang them all on the lime-tree." So, thanks to fate, 
 
 The old tree would have winter leaves. 
 This great lime stands alone, where two paths intersect ; 
 Its vast limbs from the stem at right-angles project — 
 
 Most meet for hanging thieves. 
 
 As these men to their doom through the garden wo took, 
 Up came the old gardener ; strange was liis look, 
 Ilis face was blood-smeared, he was reading a book, 
 
 His clothes were dangling in shreds. 
 And he talked as he walked, and his hands he flang 
 All round and round ; then he stopped, and sang, 
 
 And smiled to the flower-beds. 
 
 Can this scare-crow be Eobcrt ? — the prudent, the staid,
 
 LURIDA LUMIXA. 19 
 
 Tlie g;<)<lly kirk-older wlio proached, "who prayed, 
 
 Oa Sundays taught in the school? 
 Now he wanders here, and he stumbles there, 
 And his aged hluo eyes have a moon-struck stare, 
 And he laughs and laughs, like a fool. 
 
 They were tying the ropes round the villains' bare necks, 
 "Wlien up staggers Robert, with nods and with becks, — 
 
 He thought he was teaching his class. 
 " Now laddies, fine laddies, your questions ye'U say ; 
 If ye answer them well, ye'll get ten minutes play, — 
 Not play just preceesely, — ifs Sabbath to-day : 
 
 'Tliou shalt not muzzle the ass.' 
 
 "Man Johnnie! What promise is made to the meek ? — " 
 He went close to old Donald and patted his cheek — 
 ' ' As yourself love your enemy. Further, we note, 
 If he stealeth your cloak you must give him your coat — 
 
 But mine is too much torn ! 
 * The Law is abolished ; the Law had no life' : — 
 Nay, there's LaAV yet — Thou shalt not, man, covet his 
 
 wife, 
 Nor his ox, nor his ass : — nor draw out a long knife 
 To murder a babe unborn. 
 
 " Let us sing ! Let our voices go fortli like sweet balm ; 
 l*raise the Lord in a part of tiro twenty-third Psalm : —
 
 20 LURID A LrMIXA. 
 
 ' My table thou hast furnished iu presence of my foes ; 
 My face thou dost with blood anoint, and my cup over- 
 Why, lads ! will ye never begin ?" [flows :' — 
 He chides with the pris'ners, — approaches them near, — 
 " Hold yoiu' heads up, my mannies, there's nothing to 
 
 lie raises two heads, by the chin. [fear ! " — 
 Two devilish faces encountered the light. 
 Half obscene-eyed baboon, half w»rd wolf of the night : 
 Kobert fell like a dead man, then rose on his knee, 
 Glared, shook his white locks like toss'd leaves of a 
 
 tree ; — 
 " Mary ! Mary! my Mary ! — 'Twas he — and 'twas ho! — 
 God deal the like wrath, yea more also, on mo, 
 If I rend not these men of sin." 
 
 As booms the low hum of an anger-fraught hive, 
 
 So murmur my hill-men ; their rage seemed to strive 
 
 With the duty that kept them still. 
 But at length one speaks boldly : — " A hanging well 
 
 suits 
 For most part of yon fellows ; but this pair of brutes 
 Should bo nailed to the wall, as old Eob nails his fruits." 
 
 I let them have their will. 
 
 Eight pris'ners they took and they strangled them all, 
 And they crucified two on the apricot-wall.
 
 LUMDA LUMINA. 21 
 
 How each, vrrctcli writhed, liow wilil were hiti agonised 
 
 wails ! 
 But our lads held them tight, and old Eob drove the 
 
 Then he went to the rose parterre, [nails ; 
 Got two name-plates, and thoughtfully lah oiled the 
 
 men, — 
 ' La Gloire de Dijon,' ' Le Triomphe de Eennes.' 
 We left them lingering there. 
 
 Oh dire for a land when such evils befall 
 
 That Revenge grows enormous ; while Justice is small, 
 
 Mercy loss, — and Eeligion, a nothing at all ! 
 
 Next morning our General came up, with a force 
 Strong in Guns and in Infantry, wanting in Horse. 
 
 The enemy soon were sj)ed ; 
 Camp stormed, army crushed ; yet, ere all was complete, 
 A few remnants of regiments secured their retreat ; 
 
 Through the wide woods they fled. 
 
 Then in haste were sent off the light volunteer corps, — 
 "Well knew they the country, its forests and moors. 
 
 Each pass and secret track, — 
 To follow them swiftly and harass their flight, 
 Keep them restless by day and unresting at night,
 
 22 LrRIDA LUMIXA. 
 
 For ever on the rack ; 
 And so blot them from eartli tliat, of all the foul hand 
 AVho had come to our isle fi'om their own roLber-land, 
 
 Not one man should go back. 
 
 Away ! and away ! with long glides and springs, — 
 
 Like the masterful sweep of the eagle's wings, 
 
 Ere ho curls up their tips, and liis broad breast brings 
 
 To rest in the cloud-land grey I 
 Ha ! swift did we swoop, like that bird of the air, 
 Through the dark, rugged pine-trees : loud-echoing 
 
 there, 
 Rise our yells of deliglit and their shrieks of despair : 
 
 We slay, — we slay, — we slay. 
 
 As the strong burning stag, in the autumn, alone, 
 Doth wander and wander and utter his moan ; 
 No hunger er© prompts him his belly to lill, 
 lie roots up the heather, he rolls in the rill ; 
 
 Yet he runs, and he fights, and ho roars : 
 So I, in the strength of my hate and my grief, 
 I thought nothing of food for my body's relief; 
 On, on, for throe days without halt did wo go. 
 Still chasing the woarj^ dispirited foe. 
 
 Till we hunted him down to the shores. 
 
 Stand robbers! — stand ! — figlit your hist fii;'lit nr(l(\<;pair
 
 LURID A LUMINA. 23 
 
 Do A'ou look for your fleet ? Lo, your fleet is not tliere. 
 
 Now we sliall have our will. — 
 Then they fell, heap on heap, as when tall young trees 
 Are caught by the swirl of the storm-cloud's breeze ; 
 And my lads they glow red, and their steel glints bright, 
 Like the scorching flames with the tongues of light 
 
 That on moorlands feed their fill : 
 Much crackles the heath while the fire booms on ; 
 Much scream they for mercy : — the fools ! there is none ; 
 
 Our women's ghosts cry, Kill ! 
 
 Mid the din of the fight a shrill rattle rings high, 
 As the foeman's hard drums to our cheering reply. 
 Strange ! this keen jingling jar, clanging clear through 
 
 the strife, 
 Shook my heart from its torpor and stirred it to life : 
 
 I paused ; sick fancies come. 
 But the dirks of my hill-men soon quell the sharp sound. 
 And the drummers lie helplessly drumming the ground : 
 
 But one still beats his drum. 
 
 On a bank, all alone, this proud challenger stands, 
 Rattling music of war with the sticks in liis hands ; — 
 'Tis a boy, who no more than twelve suiumers had seen, 
 His briglit locks they float free, his soft eves have the 
 
 That velvet violets hold. [sheen 
 
 He stands, all alone, in tliat fatal gap,.
 
 24 LI'RIDA LUMIX.V. 
 
 And lio boats on his drum Tvith a steady tap : 
 "Will he flee ? Not he ! whatever may hap 
 
 He does wliat lie is told. 
 And gravely he stares at the tumnlt wild, 
 With the marvelling gaze of a simple child, 
 
 Undaunted more than bold. 
 
 Ah, the throbs of my heart ! Is it sorrow, or joy, 
 That thrills me so wildly ? My own dear, dear boy 
 
 Lies dead, I know full well ; 
 Yet his beautiful image again I view. 
 See the bright fair hair, see the eye's soft hue, — 
 See all in the child that stands so true 
 
 And beats the stern death-kncll. 
 
 " Curse him," said Donald, " I'll stop his note ;" 
 And ho struck with his dirk at the fair boy's throat : 
 
 Swifter than thought or breath 
 I hurl myself forth in one mighty spring, 
 And the Avliole of mj'self for a shield I fling 
 
 Ik'twixt the child and death. 
 
 And so swift w as my rush, and so sudden its force, 
 That old Donald fell sidewaj's, liis dirk took its course 
 
 A good foot into tlu; ground. 
 Then I raise up the bo}', and I bear him away, 
 Tlirough the slaugliterous crush at tlic close of the fray
 
 LUKIDA LUMINA. 25 
 
 O'er many a ghastly mound, 
 To the place where our Surgeons the woiiuded attend. 
 I left the child there with a fatherly friend. 
 Though of grieving, perchance, he find never an end. 
 
 At least he hath safety found. 
 
 All this time, such emotions thronged thick on my soul, 
 Such pity, such woe, that they mastered control, — 
 
 My thoughts, they scorched like brands. 
 I turned, and I fled from the presence of men. 
 And deep in a cavern I hid myself : then 
 
 I writhed, and wrung my hands. 
 
 I thought of my lost ones. I thought of my wife, 
 So loving, so gentle, so heavenly of life — 
 
 How happy once were we ! 
 And I thought of my boy, our delight all the day. 
 So kindly and tender, so merry and gay. 
 
 So gallant and so free. 
 And I thought of my daughter, so hoh', so j-oung, 
 Whose voice was like music in Paradise sung : — 
 How my heart's very heart to my darling ones clung I 
 
 My darlings gone from me. 
 
 Then fufit o'er my fucu sudden tear-torrents flow —
 
 26 LTJEIDA LUMIN-A. 
 
 As hot lava on Mexican mountains of snow, — 
 
 And the fires that consume me less scorchingly glow ; 
 
 Hell's wildest rages cease. 
 Truer judgment returns, and my frenzy grows cahn ; 
 Soft mem'ries come bringing their soul-soothing balm, 
 They seem to sing comfort in Heaven's high psalm. 
 
 And whisper words of peace. 
 
 Then I fell on my knees: — '• tliou God of all might ! 
 Whatever thou doest, that thing is done right. 
 Doth thy will bid me mourn ? doth it bid me be blest ? 
 Thy will shall be mine, for thy will is the best. 
 
 Thy will, God, be done. 
 Forgive the fierce acts of my rage and despair : 
 Forgive the strong hate of my Hell-breathing prayer : 
 
 Forgive thine erring son. 
 
 Oh ! if it be possible, pardon me first. 
 
 Then teach me to pray that that prayer be reversed ; — 
 
 For not yet can I bless the foul friends that I cursed, 
 
 I loathe, not love them still. 
 And oh, if it please thee, my sins near forgiven, 
 Cast my body to death, bring my spirit to Heaven : 
 Were it but at the entrance, oh let me there stay, 
 To behold the loved souls thou hast taken away. 
 
 Oh let this be tliy will !"
 
 LUE.IDA LTTMESTA. 27 
 
 Music, sweetness, for ever are done ; 
 Mourning, and longing, and pining, begun. 
 Cold riseth. the moon at the set of the sun. 
 
 I left the lone cavern ('twas thus it did seem, 
 But my bodily senses were shrouded in dream) — 
 I left the lone cavern, and went to a rock 
 Where the billows beat ceaseless with thunderbolt 
 
 And scattered their brains in spray : [shock. 
 And I mused as I paced on a platform nigh 
 To the heave of the waves ; and the changeless cry 
 Of the sea-birds that sailed round the cliff's high verge 
 Shrieked wild o'er the roar of the swelling surge, 
 And declaimed to my spirit an ocean dirge, 
 
 In Nature's noble way. 
 
 Nature ! how glorious thy children do stand ; 
 How vast is thine ocean, how vast is thy land ! 
 An atom am I 'midst thine offspring thus grand — 
 
 My griefs are toys of a child. 
 By the myriad men live, by the myidad men die ; 
 Still the same earth and ocean, same sun, and same 
 
 Unless all sight is guil'd. [sky, —
 
 28 LITEIDA LUMIXA. 
 
 Yet what matters it, wlien on the earth's wide face 
 The plough of the husbaudman leaves a trace ? 
 Or when ocean is cut by the. vessel's keel, 
 Or sky by the arrow-head's gleaming steel ? 
 Nay, these potencies vast have no power to feel — 
 
 At least, so we do think. 
 By myriads men die ; yet "we reck not of those 
 Who have sunk out of life ere our own life rose ! 
 How little we reck of the hundreds who die 
 At each turn of the tide as the time passes by ! 
 
 We laugh, we eat, we drink. 
 
 What heed we the thousands in distant Cathay 
 Whom the earthquake may crush or the famine may 
 
 Are their lives nothing worth ? [slay ! 
 
 Yet whene'er by the fate-fiends ourselves are attacked, 
 Our own lov'd ones destroyed, own lives ruined or racked. 
 
 We curse all Heaven and earth. — 
 
 Nay ! let wisdom have rule ; let me rend from my brain 
 
 The last sickl}' suggestions of fanciful pain ; 
 
 As this rock let me grow — not high Heav'n can do 
 
 aught 
 To force stone to feel grief, tlio' He grind it to naught. 
 I will join me to Nature, my self shall be brought 
 
 To concord witli strong things ! — 
 Then T worshippnd i ny. solf for the might of my pride,
 
 LTTRIDA LUMINA. 29 
 
 And I dreain'd it had vanquished the pow'r it defied. 
 But there came a gvey spirit, and moved at my side, 
 
 Air-borne, not poised on wings. 
 And he gazed in my eyes, and he said, — " I ween, 
 Ne'er a soul that hath lived, be it lofty or mean. 
 Can ever forget that its life hath been, 
 
 Nor baffle Hell's dread stings. 
 
 " Ah ! hence the deep stigma existence doth grave — 
 It is Memory that takes us and brands us as slave : 
 And while Memory holds sway o'er a man unrenewed, 
 She is potent for sorrow, but powerless for good ; 
 
 She speaks no pleasant word. 
 Tea, his past glimmers black, and his future looms grey : 
 For he mourns the past grief, that it yet will make stay ; 
 And he mourns the past joy, that 'tis now fled away. 
 
 Or he mourns its memories blurred. 
 For an earth-spirit, blackness the past will aye blot, 
 Through the bad things remembered, the good things 
 
 Till into Heaven's life stirred. [forgot, — 
 
 " Oh, wh}^ shouldst thou squander thy breath to curse, 
 "When thy foe's own life will torment him worse 
 
 Than worst thy fancy breeds ! 
 E'en to muse but one hour on the sorrows that wait 
 For the soul of the bad, when it parts from the state
 
 30 LUREDA LTJMINA. 
 
 Where body serves its needs, 
 Might move a strong angel to shivering and fears ; 
 Miglit melt a fell demo i to pit}' and tears, 
 
 And turn hin tu kind deeds." 
 
 He paused. Then a sr.asni contracted my heart. 
 And my soul (still in d-eam) sallied forth, to depart 
 
 To some far distant woiid : 
 But I rested at length on a pinnacled hill ; 
 Beneath me, a multitude, solemn and still, 
 GrroveUed low among lava-blocks ; turbid and chill 
 
 A torrent past them swirled. 
 
 Then a voice like a lion's broke hoarse on my ear ; 
 I beheld a wan angel, of visage austere ; 
 
 He oped his mouth, and said : — 
 '' ye souls of the fools that inhabit the earth, 
 Summon'd forth from the flesh to jirepare for new birth ! 
 Unto you am I sent — late delivered from HeU — 
 To declare what I know and right truly can tell. 
 For this hour of instruction thank Grod ; and list well, 
 
 Ere earth-ward once more sped. — 
 
 Do ye deem, ye dull ones ! that God doth devise 
 Strange torments to torture the sinner that dies
 
 LTJEIDA LUMIXA. 31 
 
 All foul in his filthy sin ? 
 Do ye think that your Grod is a Moloch, decked o'er 
 With the blood of gashed victims, and fed with new gore 
 
 As each fresh prey drops in ? 
 
 Let your lunatics rave, let your dogmatists rant. 
 Let your priests govern women with puerile cant — 
 
 Soul's death, they cry, to doubt — 
 Let them prate about fiends with real pitchforks that 
 
 poke, 
 And real Hell- worms that bite, and real dens full of 
 
 smoke, — 
 Where assassins and ravishers grimly may joke 
 
 In hunting small sinners about,— 
 Where all horrible orgies proceed without end ; 
 Where the bad may grow worse, the less bad cannot 
 
 "V^Tience no one ever comes out : [mend, — 
 
 Let them jjoint to the clouds, where the saved ones, 
 
 meanwhile. 
 Sit and gloat o'er the tortured, and pleasantly smile, 
 
 While loud the anthem rolls. 
 As they breathe their rejoicings in musical strains, 
 That their own clierished selves are exempted from 
 And they glorify G )1, that his justice ordains [pains ; 
 Such woes for the most of souls.
 
 32 LUBIDA LUJJIXA. 
 
 Ye senseless ! ye heartless ! ye minds without light ! 
 Hath Omniscience a sense to feel anger and spite ? 
 Can Omnipotence, even, turn wrong into right ? 
 
 Is it Love that rules, or Hate ? 
 Hate ? — e'en so ! yet needs it a seer to forebode 
 That a God would torment in a loftier mode 
 
 Than a negro potentate ? 
 
 Ne'er think to find Hell's pain in bodily pangs : 
 Search your own self's deep nature. The worm that 
 
 To gnaw a spirit-heart, [hath fangs 
 
 That worm is named Memory ; — while she doth dure 
 No fierce ruler extern need take thought to ensure 
 
 That woe sliall play its part. — 
 
 Will ye grope in j'our gospels for weapons to use '/ 
 A gospel's no gospel that brings not good news — 
 
 Grood news for man's whole race. 
 But ye shout out ' Good News !' — like the tricksters 
 
 that bawl, 
 ' Great Victory I' when truly there's nothing at aU 
 
 Within their missive's si)ace. 
 
 Ah ! ye gape at mo now, and ye gasp and ye hiss — 
 ' Speak prophet I — and say — If our gospel bo this, 
 
 AVhat gospel is your creod ? 
 The man tells of torments more awful than those
 
 LURIDA LUMIXA. 33 
 
 Of our worms and our flames : then, lie saitli, I disclose 
 Good news for all indeed !' 
 
 Hearken ! Tliis is tlie gospel to stand by, or fall — 
 The gospel of Christ, and of John, and of Paul : — 
 
 * God is light ; and in him is no darkness at all'. 
 Whatever of wisdom, of justice, of truth, 
 "WTiatever of patience, of love, and of ruth, 
 
 In best of men ye see, — 
 Those virtues in God are inherent ; the same 
 In most absolute sameness — not merely in name, — 
 
 And infinite in degree. 
 Whatever a man, noble, generous, true. 
 Of high honour unspotted, would scorn to do. 
 The Father Almighty would scorn it too. 
 If man, or if book, shall this truth deny. 
 That man is a liar, that book is a lie. 
 
 And blighted both shall be. — 
 
 * Prove it !' ye say : ' our vast planet behold ; 
 See mankind in one net of destruction up-rolled. 
 
 While God dwells calm above. 
 See false priest-crafts besot, see grim tp-annies grind, 
 See storms, famines, diseases, — all forces combined 
 To oppress, curse, entangle, and ruin mankind : 
 
 Do these things speak of love ?' —
 
 34 LUKIDA LUMIXA. 
 
 Little, little indeed, if your world were the wliolo 
 
 Of the stage framed by God for the growth of a soul, — 
 
 As ye delight to cry. 
 But if these the conclusions, — for reason's fair sake 
 Confess that a fiend for your worship ye take ; 
 
 Despair, curse Heaven, and die. 
 
 Away with such creeds ! Our life moves on a track 
 Wherein all things go forward, and nothing goes hack ; 
 And your joys and your sorrows, your suffering, your 
 
 crime, 
 Are the deeds, feelings, lessons, that fill up the time 
 
 Of children at a school. 
 Many classes there be. The true souls that aspire 
 Will pass on, ever on, and rise higher and higher ; 
 While the idle are dragged to advancement in chains, 
 And the evil are brought to improvement through pains 
 
 Adjudged with justest rule. 
 
 Alas for great sinners when earth-life doth cease ! 
 For the body decay, for the spirit dis-pcace ; 
 For the soul no escape, or long throes for release. 
 
 Beyond all human scope 
 Are the anguish, the horror, the blackness that spread 
 O'er a live, conscious soul that is boimd to the dead, 
 Closely tombed in the corpse, or enchained by nerve- 
 
 And not one ray of hope. [thread —
 
 LUllIDA LUillNA. 35 
 
 Fast cnslirouded iu gloom the poor soul must repose, 
 Of sight, hearing bereft, — all alone with its woes, 
 
 Beset with wild dismay. 
 Neither angel nor fiend breaks that solitude dense : 
 Still abides the deep horror, the loathing intense 
 
 Of the body's foul decay ; 
 As the maggots devour and the worms twist and crawl, 
 Through strong sympathy's force the soul suffers in all 
 
 And deems itself the prey. 
 
 Eut the body consumes as time slowly steals on, 
 
 And at length both the worm and the maggot are gone 
 
 To seek for better food. 
 Then sorely the soul doth their absence lament : 
 'Twas its last earthly friendship, ere utterly pent 
 
 In silent solitude. 
 
 Oh, how swift move its thoughts ! As the lightning's 
 
 fork'd blaze 
 Darts now this way now that, but amidst the quick maze 
 
 Unerring finds its goal, — 
 Thus memory roves wide, yet strikes sui-ely ; its fires 
 Plame with acts of the past, and revive the desires 
 For the goods that an earthly one loves and admires, 
 
 Within that tortured soul. 
 
 The fine food it once joyed in before it now stands ;
 
 of) LUUrDA LrMIXA. 
 
 The rich drink, ouee its comfort, seems placed to its 
 
 hands. 
 Each debauch, hot and fair, to its vision is brought ; 
 Each revenge is new wreaked, and each battle new 
 
 fought ; 
 Each full hoard is now hoarded, each pleasure new 
 
 Lo, all is blank despair ! [bought : 
 
 For the hunger craves madly, and wild is the thirst ; 
 Foulest hate, foidest love, glow in frenzies accurst ; 
 And no changes of fancy these longings assuage, 
 But still on, and still on, they more scorchingly rage. 
 
 Nor once their sting forbear. 
 Oh, what joy for the soul, if against the hard rock 
 It could hiu'l out its life with a hell-shaking shock ! 
 Could it howl, could it shriek to the spheres ! But, alas, 
 Still and silent it lies, and no sounds can out-pass, 
 Back they ring on the soul as from barriers of brass ; 
 
 All is obstruction there. 
 
 Yet it cleaves to its sin, and were fate to restore 
 Its lost body, it fain would be seeking once more 
 
 For blood, debauch, or pelf. 
 Not volcanos of torment have powers to illume 
 With one ray of Ileav'n's light a soul shut into gloom, 
 
 A soul left to itself. 
 
 But at length to the spirit in prison is sent
 
 LURIDA LUMIXA. . 37 
 
 A still voice from God's spirit, to bid it repent 
 
 And bend its thoughts more high. 
 Soon, its conscience awakens, its frenzy abates, 
 It abhors its past deeds, and its loathsomeness hates. 
 How it mourns for its victims witli agonised groan I 
 How it grieves o'er past hopes, with a pitiful moan ! 
 Then it raises to Grod, from its solitude lone, 
 An exceeding bitter cry. 
 
 Late or soon be the time, pure or evil the place, 
 ^Tien, or whence, prayer flies forth into infinite space, 
 Not a prayer but brings good from the Grod of that grace 
 
 Which did the prayer create. 
 Let not crimes upon crimes sink a man to despair, 
 If e'en death -fears should drive him to utter a prayer : 
 But on earth, or in Hell, live a soul where it may, 
 There is no hope for one that hath no will to pray — 
 
 Till God shall change its state. 
 
 "When the Saviour hath breathed on a poor, prisoned 
 He revisits it oft, till from off it he roll [soul, 
 
 The thickest clouds of gloom. 
 Evil passions grow feeble, good thoughts become strong; 
 Mighty prayers now ascend, while Hope murmurs her 
 
 song : 
 Then — as spring on the ice-fields — come angels, ere long. 
 
 And biu'st that mystic tomb.
 
 38 LUUIDA LUMIXA. 
 
 And tlicy raise up the soul, and they load it awa}*, 
 And they teach it to work, and Avith praises to pray ; 
 And, as yeai's succeed years, its ■n'an robe of pale grey 
 
 Grows whiter and more white. 
 And when labours and griefs have great penitence 
 
 wrought, 
 Great humbleness, patience, and pureness of thought, 
 
 The robe grows glittering bright. 
 Then come angels of glory, transcendent in love, 
 And they cany the soul to fair dwellings above, 
 
 To God's eternal light. 
 
 Such the course of worst souls : — mighty sorrows they 
 
 taste ; 
 E'en when raised and in suff'ring less terrible placed. 
 For long ages their life is a desolate waste, 
 
 Forlorn of every joy. 
 As the sin is the sorrow ; thus various the doom, 
 Not for all who have sinned is the God-bereft tomb : 
 Some in darkness are pent, others farther may stray ; 
 Some whirl wild as the winds, some immovable stay ; 
 
 Hard tasks some soids employ. 
 
 And some in old houses for centuries dwell, 
 Closely linked to the place whore their earth-body fell ; 
 And when night darkest glooms, from concealment they 
 And appear unto man in most pitiful guise, [rise,
 
 LUllIDA LUMINA. 39 
 
 Sliake great cliaius, show grim wounds, and. witli tear- 
 streaming eyes, ' 
 
 Beseech for human prayer. 
 Some there are that with families ancient abide, 
 Through revenge or through love to their servitude tied; 
 As black dogs down the gall'ries of castles they prowl, 
 Or as ghastly red women shriek mournfully, howl, 
 
 And wail with wild despair. 
 Or if purer of heart though of being still dense, 
 Less appalling their forms, their despair less intense. 
 Such, with pale radiant faces, gleam wan on the night : 
 Some as "green-mantled ladies glide fitfully bright ; 
 Some steal to young babes at the fading of light, 
 Sit near them, and kissing them, clasping them tight, 
 
 Stay weeping, weeping there. 
 
 In blank wretchedness lone some their sorrows support ; 
 Others troop with like souls, and in parties consort, 
 
 Most weary, loveless, dull. 
 Some are penitent, humble, — these upwards aspire ; 
 Some are rev'llers in vileness, their constant desire 
 
 All goodness to annul. 
 
 These, these are the fiends, the fierce devils of Hell. 
 For a while they sin free, till God pleaseth to quell 
 Their foul treasons. E'en devils wiU learn to do well, 
 As times on times expand.
 
 40 LritlDA LUMIXA. 
 
 Yea, all souls that have life, be their state best or worst, 
 Be they angels of light, be they devils accvirst ; 
 Shall yet all, all together, the last with the first, 
 All appr-ar in high Ileav'n, in the fullness of clays, 
 All to God shall pnre eyes and pure voices upraise, 
 All praise God with lips framed to the fineness of 
 
 Within that blessed land. [praise, — 
 
 Oh that beautiful land, where God's presence doth shine. 
 Where all sights are celestial, all sounds are divine ! 
 sweet beings, that dwell in that lovely abode. 
 Where each soul is a spirit, each spirit a god 
 
 Linked to the Life Supreme ! 
 Too high are such themes for the thoughts of a man, — 
 For his mind cannot grasp them, his eye cannot scan ; 
 Nor have words got the pow'r that a man may disclose 
 E'en the deep mystic marvels that light his repose. 
 
 When God doth send a dream. 
 
 Ay truly, some themes are to mortal forbid, 
 
 They are shut from his ken, from his nature are hid, — 
 
 In vain his fancy dares. 
 And when poor earthly minds to the highest would rise, 
 And detail all the glories that glow in the skies. 
 Ah ! how soon by weak wand'rings their blindness they 
 
 show, 
 As they picture God's home like their own home below.
 
 LITRIDA LUMINA. 41 
 
 And God's life like to theirs. 
 
 How they turn to plain facts dark and mystical tilings ! 
 Tell liow angels fly swiftly on feathery wings, 
 "While the harpers play hard on their instruments' 
 
 strings, 
 And the elders sing loudly their songs and their psalms, 
 And the martyrs stand smiling with crowns and with 
 
 And Leasts Hosanna cry ; [palms, 
 
 And incense-smoke rises with billowy curl. 
 And, past gates that are carved out of solidest pearl, 
 Mighty wheel-fashioned circles unceasingly whiid ; 
 And the whole of Heav'n's work is high music to raise. 
 And the whole of Grod's joy is to listen to praise : — 
 
 All this believe, or die ! 
 
 Yea in truth, these seer- visions are holy and dread, 
 When as symbols received, and as parables read ; 
 And right happy is he whose whole being can feel 
 "What these visions exalted may serve to reveal 
 
 Of Beauty and of Love. 
 Yea, doubt not that harps will with music resound 
 In some courts of high Ileav'n, nor that songs will 
 
 abound. 
 Nor that all blessed pleasures will somewhere be found 
 
 Within the realms above :
 
 42 LURIBA LI'MIXA. 
 
 But if preacher, or poet, or prophet essay 
 
 To ascend to those heights where tlie infinite ray 
 
 Of God's Being most shines, -where his liighest and best 
 
 In sublime mystic states of beatitude rest — 
 
 Alas for ventures frail I 
 To instruct man in things so transcendent of range — 
 Unless Grod should first will man's wlnle nature to 
 
 E'en Heav'n itseK would fail. [change — 
 
 Many mansions there be where soxd-spirits are glad, 
 Many mansions there be where soul-spirits are sad : 
 And the state of all states where most sadness is known, 
 Is the state of a soul left to languish alone, 
 
 Ere hojie of peace is given ; 
 And the state of all states that doth most comprehend 
 "WTiat is plain to man's mind, what the least doth 
 
 transcend 
 Things belov'd and desir'd by pure dwellers on earth, 
 Is the state of child-souls, at their liappy death-birtli 
 
 Into the sphere of Heaven. 
 
 Prom fountains of crystal, 'mid odorous groves. 
 Through mountains majestic, a rivulet roves 
 
 O'er silvery- golden sand ; 
 And the mellow green hillocks witli flowerets are gay, 
 And the song-birds sing softly their paradise lay, 
 And quick gleauiij of delight on the water-waves play, —
 
 LUEIDA LUMINA. 43 
 
 Sweet shrubs bedeck the strand ; 
 And tlie roses all glowing-, the lilies all fair, 
 And tlie fruit-trees of fragrancy rapture the air ; 
 And the souls of young children are wandering there, 
 
 For this is the childi-en's land. 
 
 In these arbours of grace sweet small figures are seen, 
 Like the flowers in their hues, like the stars in their 
 
 sheen ; 
 And fair forms move beside them all dazzlingly bright, 
 "With soft looks of affection, mild eyes of deliglit, — 
 
 The angel-nurses they. 
 These the souls who on earth, meek, pure, harmless as 
 
 doves. 
 Served the Lord by their love of the babes whom ha 
 
 loves ; 
 Now they tend on child-soids, and they teach them to 
 
 know 
 All that Grod's babes should learn, till, as older they 
 
 grow. 
 Come high angels, and far from these dwellings below 
 Lead the youth-souls away. 
 
 Higher, higher they rise as their being gains powers 
 Yet how happy their life in the paradise bowers ! 
 'Mong the hills and the rivers, the trees and the flowers,
 
 44 LUEIDA LUMIXA. 
 
 Where all hath, tender cliarms ; 
 Where the butterflies hover on opaline wing, 
 And the bii'ds, iridescent, low nielod}' sing. 
 Where are lovely small creatures, most sweet to behold 
 In the tintings of ivory and russet and gold 
 Of theu' delicate fui*, — how the infants enfold 
 
 Those loved ones in their arms ! 
 
 But such paradise-pleasures seem slight to the mind 
 Touched by thought : it would droop in that garden 
 
 It longs to moimt and soar. [confined, 
 
 It would fain the young strength of its Heav'n-body 
 
 prove, — 
 Would abandon earth-spheres, on God's errands of love, 
 
 And planet-spheres explore. 
 
 And right well may ye deem, that all sinless desires 
 Come prophetic to say to the soul that asjiires, 
 That his hope's due fulfilment can never be missed, 
 For that, somewhere, all objects desired must exist. 
 And if mind frames a wish, then within doth subsist 
 
 Full power that wish to gain. 
 Thus it is with child-souls, — as their powers still increase 
 Still their wishes augment, and each wish finds surcease 
 In fi-uition. Desire without hope is dis-peace, — 
 
 Ileav'n-lifo knows naught of pain.
 
 LUKIDA LUMIXA. 45 
 
 Thus with souls of all statures. Heav'n-life once begun. 
 Still upward and onward tlieir energies run ; 
 Still tlieir wishes grow higher, still turn into will, 
 Still theu' being gains strength the behests to fullil 
 
 Of the vast indwelling might. 
 And what God's will supreme doth his servants command, 
 Their own will brings to pass, and no pow'r can with- 
 stand. 
 Yea, no will but hath strength — if its body have force — 
 To subvert stars immense, to hurl suns from theii* course. 
 To raise new worlds to light. 
 
 no life of inaction the Heav'n-soul shall lead. 
 
 For a strenuous soul 'twere declension indeed 
 
 To change from man to plant. 
 Shall the statesman, the soldier, the scholar, all close 
 Their careers of renown in one ditch- of repose ? 
 The strong trav'ller, for ever to rest be beguiled ? 
 And, like lion with lambkin companioning mild. 
 The wise judge mingle hymns with the innocent child, 
 
 In never-ceasing chant ? 
 
 Nay indeed ! 'tis not thus that God's love is express'd 
 Towards the souls that are safe in the land of the blest. 
 There pui-e happiness shines without darkening alloy. 
 And each soul works the work it has learnt to think joy:
 
 46 LUKIDA LUMIXA. 
 
 Each soul will find its place. 
 Clad witk bodies celestial transcendent of naig^ht, 
 Not a realm is too far for their rapturous flight. 
 Souls of wisdom rule Avorlds through the universe-laws^ 
 And adjust tlie vast maze of effect-bearing cause — 
 
 God doth but outlines trace. 
 
 To the resolute souls high employments belong — 
 Waging measureless war 'gainst disorder and wrong, 
 In hard fight with Hell-armaments. Dire is the foe, 
 And, though warriors of Ileav'n no discomfiture know, 
 Oft the struggle is long, ere to regions below 
 
 The howling fiends depart. 
 Not one Science too plain, not one Art too minute, 
 In Heav'n's realms to exist for some being's p\u'suit ; 
 And the souls of great vigour find work for all time 
 In exploring tlie myst'ries of Science sublime, 
 
 In following noblest Art. 
 
 All is love, joy, and peace in the realms of the glad — 
 In the light of Grod's presence what soul coidd be sad ! 
 Nought in Ileav'n can subsist to cause sorrow or pain. 
 E'en from yeai'nings for those who yet earth-bound 
 
 remain, 
 Tlie pure soids arc exempt, such assurance they gain 
 
 Of God's all-ruling grace. 
 Yea, and oft-times on missions of comfort they go
 
 LunroA LUMixA. 47 
 
 To their dear ones still striving in regions belo\r ; 
 And they drink-in delight from these meetings, and 
 
 thi'O'W' 
 Heav'n's great strength o'er a soul that they lovingly 
 
 tend, 
 And through many fiend-onsets its weakness defend ; 
 And -svhen earth-life's hard fight doth in victory end, 
 
 Then, in a close embrace, 
 The glad, mazed, trembling soul to their bosom they 
 
 take. 
 And they rise through the mists, till the glories out- 
 Of some fair heavenly place. [break 
 
 Oh ! what glory, what gladness, what boundless content ! 
 Not one day, not one hour, in unhappiness spent, 
 
 No carking cares to chafe. 
 Oh ! what joy all their loved ones around them to call, 
 And to bask in their love, and to gaze on them all, 
 And to know that no bolt of misfortune can fall : 
 
 All safe, for ever safe ! 
 
 Is there height, depth, or distance, below or above, 
 That can sunder pure sovJs from the souls that they love ? 
 Mighty distance there is, mighty barriers there be, 
 'Twixt a low prisoned soul and a soul that is free ; 
 And each Heav'n-home holds souls of that special degree 
 Which fitness doth ordain.
 
 48 LURIDA LUMIXA. 
 
 Yea, the lower soul nowhere may pass to the higher : 
 Shoiild a soul in its rashness too proudly aspire, 
 The intense glow of glory would scorch like a fii-e, — 
 Ineffable the pain. 
 
 But high beings can pass unto beings more low, 
 Save when God's holy will doth forbid them to go ; 
 And, by force of attraction, no soul but can sjieak, 
 Through e'en measui-eless space, to the soul it would 
 
 Far swifter than the light [seek. 
 
 Flies the soul- voice ; far swifter than lightning's quick 
 
 play, 
 Will the soul fraught with love a loved summons obey, 
 
 With instantaneous flight. 
 And full oft a high soul will find pleasure to stay 
 "With some loved lower soul, till it bear it away 
 
 To realms of nobler height. 
 
 And with love so imbounded pure spirits are fraught. 
 That they joy to seek those who desire to be sought. 
 Yea, the Presence Divine most illumines the face 
 Of the souls who most earnestly yearn for its grace : 
 
 A mystery this too high. 
 Oh, wliat rapture, as ages on ages still roll, 
 To converse heart to heart Avith each glorified soul ! 
 AMien slow language no longer swift thought will 
 conceal,
 
 LUEIDA LUMLN'A. 49 
 
 But all spirit meet spirit, and all things reveal- 
 Is o power, nor need, for lie I" 
 
 Hush ! a silence from God streams abroad in the air ; 
 The deep voice of the angel is stilled, — he grows fair. 
 As he gazes enraptured. The wilderness bare, 
 
 The vale of sombre woe, 
 Thi'ills with joy in creative abundance of light ; 
 Blossom, verdure, and leafage, spring warm on the 
 
 Sweet gales of Eden blow. [sight ; 
 
 The lean multitude fades at the advent of mii-th. 
 And the souls swift return to their bodies ou earth 
 
 To live thcix lives below. 
 
 Then there beamed o'er the sky a soft radiance of gold ; 
 And my spirit nigh fainted, too weak to behold 
 
 The glow of glory given, 
 AVhen the radiance slow changed to intenseness of shine, 
 And for planet-like leme blazed refulgence divine 
 
 More dazzling than the levin ; 
 But an angel drew near me and breathed on my brow. 
 And I rose strong of heart, all revealed to me now, 
 
 And fearless viewed a Heaven. 
 
 And around me there moved a majestical throng,
 
 50 LURIDA I.T^>riXA. 
 
 Mighty heroes of battle, sweet heroes of song ; 
 
 Kings, prophets, apostles, exalted of name, 
 
 Now as great in their splendour as groat in their fame — 
 
 Ah me ! what wonders loom ! 
 Lo ! behold those grand beings so stately of gaze, 
 The high fathers of nations. What radiancies blaze 
 From yon King ! Even thus all resplendent he shone 
 When he waved his red rod, and the waters rushed on, 
 
 And Egypt sank to doom. 
 Yea, behold here another, most noble of soul. 
 Whom e'en Death was too feeble of grasp to control — 
 Elijah. How swelled his great heart with content, 
 When afar from the earth in God's chariot he went, 
 
 Nor ever saw the tomb ! 
 
 There, — see there, — stands that greatest apostle of all, 
 AVoman-hearted, man-minded, vast-spirited Paul : 
 
 Wliat keen rays from him dart ! 
 There, — see there, — that swift eagle of God-gifted wing, 
 The apostle belov'd most. See, near him, the King 
 Who in holy Judroa high antliems did roll, — 
 A true Aryan in honour till ease trapped his soul, — 
 
 One after God's own heart. 
 And there ! — Wlio is this that appears to me now, 
 With the planet-like eyes and the firmament brow ? 
 Mighty Shakespeare — arrayed as the spirits that guide
 
 LURIDA LUMIXA. 51 
 
 Tlio vast suns of the suns. — How tliey tliroiig' to luy side ! 
 Lord, lot Dio now depart ! 
 
 Hark ! hark ! that grand music. It peals through the 
 
 sphere. 
 Oh, how nobly, how proudly, it breaks on the ear ! 
 Like an army of warriors its sjilendours advance. 
 Lo, the roar of the rush as the battle-steeds prance ! 
 How clangs the loud trumpet, — how rattles the lance ! 
 Hark, the shields golden clash ! See, the red banners 
 
 Hark to the chariots' roll ! [dance ! 
 
 On ! march on, Heav'nly host, in high majesty go ! 
 On ! sweep on, thou strong sea, o'er the souls of the foe — 
 
 Thou glorious sea of soul ! 
 
 Sound hath died into silence. What means this soft 
 
 strain, — 
 Bitter-sweet, joyous-sad ? Ah ! I hear it again. 
 Wild notes of the wood-land, ye come not in vain ! 
 All my being is wracked with the dream of a pain. 
 
 To the dust by your cadence recalled. 
 my heart ! my heart ! AVhat are glories to thee ? 
 So remote! — and meanwhile — Oh, that God would give 
 
 me —
 
 52 LrEIDA LUMIXA. 
 
 And to nim would I yield all that futures may liold — 
 Could I but to my bosom still lovingly fold 
 My most sweetest sweet wife, as in dear days of old, 
 When, with baud linked in band, we botb wandered 
 
 together. 
 My darling and I, midst the pines and the heather, 
 Far, far, in the Thiiringer AVald. 
 
 " Bliiu ist ein bliunelein 
 Das lieisst Vergisis-uicht-mein; 
 Das bltlnflein leg' :ius herz, 
 Uud dciik' au mich. 
 
 Stirbt blum' unci hofliiung gleicli, 
 Wir siud an liebo reich, 
 Und die stii-bt nie bei mk, 
 Das glaube mir." 
 
 Music, sweetness, content, are fled. 
 Mourning and yearning and pining, instead, 
 Cleave close to my being. Would God I were dead ! 
 
 THE EXD.
 
 BY THE SAME AUTHOR. 
 
 HERMINIUS; a Romance. Crown 8vo. 66. 
 Edinburgh : Edmonston ifc Douglas. 1862. 
 
 EEITAIN'S ART PARADISE : oe, Notes on 
 suME Pictures ix the Royal Academy— 1S71. 
 Demy Svo. is. 
 
 Edinijiirgh : Edmonston & Douglas. 1871. 
 
 SASKATCHEWAN, AND THE ROCKY 
 MOUNTAINS : a Narrative of Travel through 
 the Hudson's Bay Territories. Demy Svo. 18s. 
 Edinburgh : Edmonston &l Douglas. 1875. 
 
 JONAS FISHER : a Poem in Beown and 
 White. Second Edition. Crown Svo. 6s. 
 
 London : Trubner <fc Co. 1876. 
 
 GREENWOOD'S FAREWELL, and other 
 Poems. Crown Svo. 6s. 
 
 London : Strahan & Co. 1876.
 
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