Etchings in Verse (Underhill)/Desolation

by Andrew Findlay Underhill

SONGS IN MINOR KEYS.

DESOLATION.

IN the Kingdom of the gloaming
 Where the days are gray, and dim—
  Dim, and gray and pensive—
Where the dead past's thoughts go roaming
 Like the fallen seraphim,
Once I wandered 'neath the luster
 Of a spectral, leaden moon—
'Neath a moon of lurid luster,
 Where the sad lights fade and swoon.

And a shape that e'er eluded
 Waved me on to realms unknown—
  Realms of shade and shadow
Where eternal silence brooded,
 And the rushing clouds alone
Gave a hint of life or motion,
 As they swept forever by,
With a restless, reeling motion,
 Adown the western sky.

There the tops of trees primeval
 Watched the staring, quiet stars—
  Stars serene, and pulseless;
There the elements' upheaval
 Reared grim mountains seamed with scars;
And the ghastly, sleeping waters
 Dozed in pools along the fells;
For no breezes stir the waters,
 And no murmur in them dwells.

And I gazed upon the heaven,
 And the waters' soundless deeps—
  Dank, forlorn, and sullen;
At the hills with thunder riven,
 And the moon-shade on their steeps;
At the giant trees that slumbered,
 Soaring skyward thro' the gloom;
At the staring wastes encumbered
 With the atmosphere of doom.

And I said: "What name is written
 On yon bleak, and barren sands—
  Bleak, and drear, and barren;
What clinging curse has smitten
 These lone, and wasted lands?
Has some demon led me hither
 'Neath these wan, and baleful spheres?
By whose guidance came I hither,
 To this land of darkened years?"

Then the pealing voice of thunder
 Rent the canopy of night.
  Deep, and loud, and sudden.
The hills were rent asunder,
 And vanished from my sight;
The tree-tops waved, and shouted;
 The barren lowlands moaned;
The sweeping whirlwind shouted
 With a tumult thunder-toned.

And all the lands were leveled
 To a low and trackless plain—
  Lifeless, low, and burning;
Where the blighting breezes reveled,
 And the searching eye in vain
Looked for sign of shrub or flower
 O'er the desert's trackless face;
For of tree, and shrub and flower
 The whirlwind left no trace.

Then I gazed upon the heaven
 Where the reeling clouds still frowned—
  Glaring down in anger;
But the secret there engraven
 Deep within my soul was found;
For my heart cried "Desolation!
 Shattered hopes lie buried here—
Yea, the blight of Desolation
 Hath cursed these kingdoms drear!"

Then I fled afar, and pondered
 On the marvels I had seen—
  Marvels deep and awful!
All pale with dread I wandered
 Mid the terror of the scene,
And I shrieked: "The power that reareth
 And leveleth these hills
Is the evil god that seareth
 My life and heart with ills!"