Middlebury register. (Middlebury, Vt.) 1886-1937, 1902-05-30
THE PLEASURES OF HOPE.
Thomas CAMPBELL
(C0nhnNed.)

Hark from the worlds exploding centre driven,
With sounds that shook the armament Of Heaven,
Careers the fiery giant fast and far,
On pickering wheels, and adamantne car;
From planet whr'd to planet more remote,
He visits realms beyond the reach of thought;
But wheeling homeward when his course is run,
Curbs the red yoke, and mingles with the sun
So hath the traveller Of earth unfurld
Her trembling wings, emerging from the world;
And DER the patti by mortal never trod,
Sprung to her source, the bosom of her God
Oh lives there, Heaven beneath thy dread expans
One hopeless dark idolater of Chance,
Content to feed, with pleasures unrefned,
The ukewarm passions of owly mind
Who, Wondering earthward, reft of every trust,
In oyless union welded to the dust,
Could all his parting energy. dismiss,
And call this barren world sufficient bliss p
There live, alas of heaven-d directed mien,
OF cultured soul, and sapient eye serene,
Who hail thee, Man the pilgrim of day,
Spouse of the worm, and brother of the clay,
Fra as the leaf in Auumns yellow bower,
Dust in the wind, or dew upon the flower
A friendless slave, child without a SIRE
Whose mortal life, and momentary fire,
Light to the grave his chance created FORM
AS ocean wrecks illuminate the storm;
And when the guns tremendous flash is DER,
To night and silence sink for evermore =
Are these the pompous tdings We proclaim,
Lights of the world and demi- gods of Fame?
Is this your triumph this your proud applause,
Children of Truth, and champions of her cause?
For this hath Science search'd, weary wing,
By shore and sea each mute and living thing
Launch'd with Iberias pilot from the steep,
To worlds unknown and isles beyond the deep2
a.. Al
And wheeled in triumph through the signs of Heaven.
Oh star-eyed Science, hast thou WANDERED there
To watt us home the message of despair?
Then bind the palm, thy sage's brow to suit,
Of blasted leaf, and death distillng fruit
All me the laureld wreath that Murder rears,
Blood-nursed, and watered by the widows tears,
Seems not SO foul, Sc tainted, and so dread
As the night shade round the skeptc head.
What is the bigot's torch, the tyrants chain?
l smile on death, if Heaven-ward HOPE remain
But, if the warning winds OF Natures strife
Be all the faithess charter of my life
If Chance awaked, memorable power,
This fra and everish being of an hour;
Doom'd oer the worlds precarious scene to sweep,
Swift as the tempest travels on the deep,
To know Delight but by her parting smile,
And toll, and wish, and weep little while
This troubled pulse, and visionary brain
Fade, We wild flowers, memorials of my doom
And sink, We stars, that light to the tomb
Truth, ever ovely,-snce the world began,
The foe of tyrants, and the friend of man.
How can thy words from balmy slumber start
Reposng Virtue, pillowd on the heart
Yet if thy voice the note of thunder rold,
And that true which Nature never told,
JetW ic,lO liza, bar
No rapture dawns, no treasure is revealed
Oh let her read, nor loudly elate,
The doom that bars us from a. better fate;
But, sad as angels for the good mans sin,
Weep to record, and blush to give it in
And well may Doubt the mother of Dsmay,
Pause at her martyrs tomb, and read the lay.
Down by the wds OF yon deserted vale,
1t darby hints melancholy tale
There, as the homeless mailman sits alone,
In hollow winds he hears a spirit moan
And there they say, wizard orgie crowds,
When the Moon lights her watch tower in the Clouds
Poor lost Alonzo Fate's neglected child
Mild be the doom of Heaven as thou vert mild
For oh thy heart in holy mould was cast,
And all thy deeds were bameless but the last
Poor lost Aonzo still l seem to hear
The clod that struck thy understanding bier
When Friendship paid, in speeches. sorrow drownd,
Thy midnight rites, but not on haow'd ground
Cease, every joy, to glimmer on my mind,
But leave oh leave the light of HOPE behind
What though my winged hours of bliss have been.
Like ange-visits, few and far between,
Her musing mood shall every pang appease
And cham-when pleasures lose the power to please
Yes; let each rapture dear to Nature, flee;
Close not the light of Fortunes stormy sea