"Remembrance of a Summer's Night" by John Rollin Ridge
A silent spot in midst of sylvan scene,
Where, bounded by a flow'ry shore,
A cool, fresh lakelet spread its polished sheen;
Alone, with book of ancient lore
I patient sat and mused on what hath been.
The shadows of the mossy pine,
That o'er the quiet depths in silence fell,
Seemed like some spirit's wing divine,
Which, hovering there, shed round a holy spell;
And, while I read each storied line,
It seemed within my heart of hearts to dwell.
With noiseless steps the moments came,
And still unheard they went; the softened light
In mellow rays fell o'er each name
Renowned, a heavenly tribute rich and bright;
Still o'er the records grand of fame
I looked, nor marked the soft approach of Night.
She came unheralded by sound,
And stole upon me like a dream; the leaves
Grew dim, and when I gazed around,
Behold! the mystic curtain that she weaves
Hung far to where Old Ocean heaves.
Where wing'd imagination roams
On high the moon in saint-like beauty rose,
And in their pure etherial domes
The kingly stars sat throned in grand repose—
As calm those worlds as might the homes
Of angels be, where love immortal grows.
Wrapt "in the mantle of the dark,"
Against an aged tree my form I leant,
And gazed upon each shining mark
That night had placed upon her steep ascent,
From fitful flash of meteor spark
To worlds beneath whose weight the heavens are bent.
So deep the quiet of the spot,
So broad the mystery of silence spread,
It seemed that from my earthly lot
I rose to mingle with the mighty dead,
Whose steadfast thrones time reaches not,
And round whose brows eternal light is shed.
Far borne into the midst of space,
Methought I heard the wheels of ages roll,
And whisperings of another race
Whose language seemed familiar to my soul;
And beauteous night from this high place
Far spread her broad, illuminated scroll.
Upon that mighty page unrolled
I read, bright syllabled in blazing spheres,
What science hath but feebly told
In all the wisdom of her garnered years;
For science halts, where strong and bold
Imagination soars, and scorns all fears.
Sad seemed the star-typed record there,
Where, through the blinding mists and tearful gloom,
All dimly burned our world so fair,
Our wondrous world of sorrow, sin and doom!
In sable stoled—and grim despair
Sat on her brow as raven on a tomb.
Pale thoughts around her, like a host
Of thronging shadows, veiled her sorrowing head
Remembrance her Eden lost,
The guiltless blood upon her bosom shed,
Her generations that were dust,
Her millions that were yet to join the dead!
Mid all the congregated lights
That pendant in the silver concave shone,
Or crowned with fire the golden heights
That rose like altars to a God UNKNOWN
Her light was saddest, and the night's
Slow tears that fell seemed wept for her alone.
Mid all the princely orbs that bowed
In mute obesiance to their Monarch sun,
Or, with his primal force endowed,
In paths of circling glory round him run;
Mid all the constellated crowd
Thick strewn by Him, the wonder-working ONE.
Upon his world-creating path,
'Twas strange, methought, this beauteous earth alone
Should thus down selectest wrath,
And in her heart of fire for ages groan;
That here alone should sorrow scathe,
And mouldy Death erect his ghastly throne!
But higher yet I seemed to soar
And pierced the visual dome in upward flight,
As if, through angel-opened door
Had passed soul untombed from vaulted night,
And stood where ne'er it stood before
In lowly worship of the new-born light.
'Twas glorious thus in dreams to tread
The supra mortal realms—abodes where none
Earth-born can enter, save the dead—
Who mate with essences the living shun;
Those beautiful pale forms of dread
The gifted see, ere their brief day is done.
'T was thus my soul did wander far,
The finite in the infinite, and, wild
With ecstasy, from star to star,
And from the constellations vast uppiled
On pillared worlds (that pendant are)
To orbic systems, vaster still, which smiled
In rays eternal from a height
Of heights immeasurable, did climb! And still
Did climb the upward maze of light,
As if despite the interdicting will
That quelled the Babel-builders' might,
'T would reach where sat the enthroned INVISIBLE!
Thus on that summer's night I dreamed,
Till half the stars went down; and to my tent
Retired: but every orb that beamed
Upon the lonely watches I had spent,
Was in soul ensphered, and gleamed
Above my sleep a pictured firmament!