Poems (Lambert)/The Plague
THE PLAGUE.
SOL blood-red angry sank to rest,Yet still his fire illumed the west;But evening brought with her no thrill,Save a dull terror, yet more chillThan that which dazed the soul with fear,When Sol's bright rays were glancing near.The sky, no longer clearest blue,But a dull, heavy, leaden hue.While o'er the sunset hovered clouds,Like countless myriads of shrouds,Waiting for spirits of the dead,To robe the souls that heavenward fled.Despair on each pale face was painted,Which stifling breathed the air attainted.By no emotions were hearts stirred,Save dark despair and hope deferred, For Death had planted his pale banner,And Plague was ruling o'er Savannah. The hearses with their flowing pallStood waiting for the rich man's call,While carts and wagons bore the poorTo the confines of this death-bound shore.Drear silence her lone watch was keeping,Save here and there some mother weepingO'er the last scion of a race,Whose ancestors she'd proudly traceFar back in centuries of yoreTo lines of kings in history's lore.And on the street some drunken crowd,Whose hearts, with fear and anguish bowed,Had, in the wine-cup sought relief,From the dull terror of their grief.And mockingly the echoes woke,As jests and songs the stillness broke.The crescent moon, her beams now shedO'er both the living and the dead. Warm was the air, yet each warm breathWas ladened with the chill of death:And the bright stars half veiled their eyesOn severance of earthly ties. Know you, that stars are books of fate,Where we can read what love or hate,Will be our dower in this life,Or whether peace, or whether strife?Know you, that at each mortal's birthThe king of stars descends to earth,And on the child his signet places,Guards it with furies, or with graces,Then wafts back to his home afar,And gives the child to some bright star.To Jove he gives the gay and bright,Whose hearts are airy, joyous, light.Mars' sons must wear the warrior's crest,And a brave heart within his breast,And men, whom centuries shall know,Demosthenes and Cicero. All of great eloquence gave heTo nimble, cunning Mercury.And Venus' children, like the wind,No laws of earth their hearts can bind.Now, gentle as the moon's soft beam,Now flashing wrath like lightning gleam,Clad in the light of peace' bright form,Now raving like the furious storm.Bright, beautiful as angels fair,Now the dark image of despair.While influenced by Love's great power—Meek, lowly, humble as a flower;But should that love be changed to hate,Then Venus' love is tiger's mate. Then judge not harshly, child of earth,By vast powers guided from its birth,For elements that in us war,Are gifts bestowed by some bright star.Above the stars in realms of light,Above despair, above the night, Sat Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,Surrounded by angelic host—Stern was God's face, and in his hand.He held the sceptre of command.Each moment ope'd the gates of blue,To let some pardoned sinner through.Yet Mercy wept in her despair,To see so few souls enter there.E'en was celestial chorus stilledAs earthly cries, for pity thrilledEach soul that dwelt in the above—For heavenly beings are made of love.And Justice meekly bowed her knee,And said, "Oh, Father, thanks to thee,My dues are paid; come, Mercy, now,And bend in intercession low."Then Mary Mother, to her SonSaid, "Let thy mighty will be done,But oh, my heart will break with criesOf mothers as each earth-child dies. Then bow thyself before thy Lord,Perchance He will respect thy word."A loving look Christ's face o'erspread,And Son to Father bowed his head:"Father, forgive them," was his cry,"Remember that thy Son did die That all might live;Let Mercy, with Love's purest breath,Recall from Earth the spectre Death. Father, forgive!""Thy prayer is heard, my holy Son,"The Master said, "Thy will be done."And once again the gates of blueWere opened and grim Death passed through;And on the rays of morning bright,Life cast o'er Earth a garb of light.And those who bowed their heads dismayed,Now raised them, for the plague was stayed.