Till the old chamber seems to be
The omnium gatherum of Time—
Is this a world—a world for thee.
Why throbs the breast with secret pain?
The anxious spirit questions why?
Earth and its hopes allure in vain,
The aching heart and weary eye.
Instead of Nature's vistas free,
Where man Creation's purpose owns,
In dust and smoke surrounding thee,
Are skeletons and ghastly bones.
Arise—seek out that distant land—
See here the great mysterious book,
The work of Nostradamus' hand—
For better guidance wouldst thou look.
The starry world unclosed at length,
Its light shall on thy soul diffuse,
And teach thee with a spirit’s strength,
The tongue’s communing spirits use.
In vain unkenn’d and idly here
Must these dread signets meet mine eye!
Mysterious powers that hover near,
Oh if ye hear my voice—reply.
His aspirations are at first for the converse of lofty and holy beings, the spirits of the macrocosm, or to phrase it somewhat incorrectly, the greater universe. It is to arrive at these that he resolves to pass the bounds of lawful knowledge, and grasps the forbidden book—his nerves become electric with a delightful and supernatural excitement and his mind fills with visions of glory—yet he regards the sign of the macrocosm long and wistfully, and dares not speak it out. He fixes on that of the spirit of the earth, the active and beneficent principle of nature—he utters it, and the spirit stands before him; but his mortal courage quails at the fearful sight, and he turns away his eyes in terror. He recovers himself directly and attempts to assert his dignity, and claims an equality with his tremendous visitor, but it is too late; the spirit spurns him and disappears, leaving him to relapse into his sombre meditations, which gather double bitterness from this new trial and failure of his strength. His eye rests on a flask of poison—he takes it down and resolves on an escape through the grave to a change of scene, since all his better hopes have failed him; but at this moment he hears at a distance a sound of rejoicing, a peal of bells for Easter morning, and the chorus of the youths and maidens—the anthem in which in other days his
