Part 8 (1/2)

The volume of the weird chaldean stars,

And of the winds, the clouds, the invisible air,

Make eloquent discourse, until, methought,

No human lip, but some diviner spirit

Alone, could preach such truths of things divine?

And so--and so--”

ARAM. ”From Heaven we turned to Earth,

And Wisdom fathered Pa.s.sion.”

ARAM. ”Wise men have praised the Peasant's thoughtless lot,

And learned Pride hath envied humble Toil;

If they were right, why let us burn our books,

And sit us down, and play the fool with Time,

Mocking the prophet Wisdom's high decrees,

And walling this trite Present with dark clouds,

'Till Night becomes our Nature; and the ray

Ev'n of the stars, but meteors that withdraw

The wandering spirit from the sluggish rest

Which makes its proper bliss. I will accost

This denizen of toil.”

--From Eugene Aram, a MS. Tragedy.

”A wicked hag, and envy's self excelling

In mischiefe, for herself she only vext,

But this same, both herself and others eke perplext.”

”Who then can strive with strong necessity,

That holds the world in his still changing state,