While yet the eagle preys, and growls the bear; While roars the lion; while the crow defies The lamb who raised our race above the skies; While yet the dove laments to the deaf air; While, mixed with goodly wheat, darnel and tare Within the field of human nature rise;-- Let that unG.o.dly sect, profanely wise, That scorns our hope, feed, fatten, and beware!
Soon comes the day when those grim giants fell, Famed through the world, dyed deep with sanguine hue, Whom with feigned flatteries you applaud, shall be Swept from the earth, and sunk in horrid h.e.l.l, Girt round with flames, to weep and wail with you, In doleful dungeons everlastingly.
XLI.
_A PROPHECY OF JUDGMENT._
No. 2.
_THE DOOM OF THE IMPIOUS._
_La scuola inimicissima._
You sect most adverse to the good and true, Degenerate from your origin divine, Pastured on lies and shadows by the line Of Thais, Sinon, Judas, Homer! You, Thus saith the Spirit, when the retinue Of saints with Christ returns on earth to shine, When the fifth angel"s vial pours condign Vengeance with awful ire and torments due,-- You shall be girt with gloom; your lips profane, Disloyal tongues, and savage teeth shall grind And gnash with fury fell and anger vain: In Malebolge your d.a.m.ned souls confined On fiery marle, for increment of pain, Shall see the saved rejoice with mirth of mind.
XLII.
_A PROPHECY OF JUDGMENT._
No. 3.
_THE GOLDEN AGE._
_Se fu nel mondo._
If men were happy in that age of gold, We yet may hope to see mild Saturn"s reign; For all things that were buried live again, By time"s revolving cycle forward rolled.
Yet this the fox, the wolf, the crow, made bold By fraud and perfidy, deny--in vain: For G.o.d that rules, the signs in heaven, the train Of prophets, and all hearts this faith uphold.
If thine and mine were banished in good sooth From honour, pleasure, and utility, The world would turn, I ween, to Paradise; Blind love to modest love with open eyes; Cunning and ignorance to living truth; And foul oppression to fraternity.
XLIII.
_THE MILLENNIUM._
_Non piaccia a Dio._
Nay, G.o.d forbid that mid these tragic throes To idle comedy my thought should bend, When torments dire and warning woes portend Of this our world the instantaneous close!
The day approaches which shall discompose All earthly sects, the elements shall blend In utter ruin, and with joy shall send Just spirits to their spheres in heaven"s repose.
The Highest comes in Holy Land to hold His sovran court and synod sanctified, As all the psalms and prophets have foretold: The riches of his grace He will spread wide Through his own realm, that seat and chosen fold Of worship and free mercies multiplied.
XLIV.
_THE PRESENT._
_Convien al secol nostro._
Black robes befit our age. Once they were white; Next many-hued; now dark as Afric"s Moor, Night-black, infernal, traitorous, obscure, Horrid with ignorance and sick with fright.
For very shame we shun all colours bright, Who mourn our end--the tyrants we endure, The chains, the noose, the lead, the snares, the lure-- Our dismal heroes, our souls sunk in night.
Black weeds again denote that extreme folly Which makes us blind, mournful, and woe-begone: For dusk is dear to doleful melancholy; Nathless fate"s wheel still turns: this raiment dun We shall exchange hereafter for the holy Garments of white in which of yore we shone.
XLV.
_THE FUTURE._
_Veggo in candida robba._
Clothed in white robes I see the Holy Sire Descend to hold his court amid the band Of shining saints and elders: at his hand The white immortal Lamb commands their choir.
John ends his long lament for torments dire, Now Judah"s lion rises to expand The fatal book, and the first broken band Sends the white courier forth to work G.o.d"s ire.
The first fair spirits raimented in white Go out to meet him who on his white cloud Comes heralded by hors.e.m.e.n white as snow.
Ye black-stoled folk, be dumb, who hate the loud Blare of G.o.d"s lifted angel-trumpets! Lo, The pure white dove puts the black crows to flight!
XLVI.
_THE YEAR 1603._
_Gia sto mirando._
The first heaven-wandering lights I see ascend Upon the seventh and ninth centenary, When in the Archer"s realm three years shall be Added, this aeon and our age to end.
Thou too, Mercurius, like a scribe dost lend Thine aid to promulgate that dread decree, Stored in the archives of eternity, And signed and sealed by powers no prayers can bend.
O"er Europe"s full meridian on thy morn In the tenth house thy court I see thee hold: The Sun with thee consents in Capricorn.
G.o.d grant that I may keep this mortal breath Until I too that glorious day behold Which shall at last confound the sons of death!
XLVII.
_NEBUCHADNEZZAR"S IMAGE._
_Babel disfatta._