| |
| “LET 1 there be light!” creation’s Author spoke, | |
| And quick from chaos floods of splendor broke— | |
| On that magnificent, primeval morn, | |
| Myself, an humble ray of light was born. | |
| Vain were the task to guess my native place; | 5 |
| Rushing, careering, furiously through space, | |
| Plunged amid kindred rays and mingling beams, | |
| These are my first of recollection’s gleams. | |
| Oh! with what joy we rioted along! | |
| Darting afar, in young existence strong, | 10 |
| Onward we poured the unaccustomed day | |
| Through tracts, the length of many a milky way. | |
| (For know, we rays of light are living things, | |
| Each with ten thousand pair of brilliant wings; | |
| No wonder then, when all those wings are stirr’d, | 15 |
| We flit it so much faster than a bird.) | |
| At last, when youthful years and sports were done, | |
| Choice, chance, or duty brought me to your sun; | |
| And, while my brother pencils fled afar, | |
| To swell the glories of some viewless star, | 20 |
| ’T was mine to fly about this work of heav’n, | |
| Where one huge orb gave light and heat to seven, | |
| Although short visits now and then I make, | |
| To distant spheres, for recreation’s sake. | |
| Ah! ne’er shall I forget th’ eventful day | 25 |
| When to this planet first I sped my way: | |
| To many a twinkling throb my heart gave birth, | |
| As near and nearer I approach’d the earth. | |
| What was to be my fate? for ever lost | |
| In some dark bog? or was I to be tost | 30 |
| In wild reflection, round some narrow spot, | |
| Then sink absorb’d, inglorious and forgot? | |
| No, reader, no—far different the career | |
| Which fate designed me to accomplish here: | |
| Millions of splendid scenes ’t was mine to grace, | 35 |
| Though my first act brought ruin to your race. | |
| Trembling, I reach’d the serpent’s glistening eye, | |
| Then glanced, and struck the apple, hanging by, | |
| Then, to your mother Eve reflected, flew, | |
| And thus, at one exploit, a world o’erthrew! | 40 |
| Oh scene of wo! the mischief I had wrought, | |
| Those quick successive shocks, that stunn’d my thought, | |
| The poisonous magic from that sire of lies, | |
| The worse contagion in that woman’s eyes, | |
| All were too much for one poor ray of light, | 45 |
| New to his task, and meaning only right. | |
| Distrest in heart, at once myself I hurl’d | |
| Far to the outside of this injured world, | |
| Wishing to wear my wretched life away, | |
| ’Mid scenes, where solitude and chaos lay. | 50 |
| At length, while wandering o’er these realms of wo, | |
| I heard a small, sweet voice that whisper’d low | |
| In tones of soothing—’t was a brother ray | |
| Sent from the hand that first created day— | |
| “No longer mourn,” the darting angel said, | 55 |
| “The hopes of man are not for ever fled | |
| From his own race a Saviour shall arise, | |
| To lead him back to his forbidden skies; | |
| And hark! when Bethl’em’s beauteous star shall shine, | |
| Its first and freshest radiance shall be thine!” | 60 |
| Cheer’d by these words, I long’d to gain once more | |
| This lovely world, and try my fortune o’er. | |
| Just then a globe, new struck from chaos out, | |
| Met me, and turn’d my headlong path about; | |
| Back to the sun with breathless speed I flew, | 65 |
| And thence rush’d down, where bright to Noah’s view | |
| The glorious rainbow shone—a lingering stop | |
| I made within a small pellucid drop, | |
| Touch’d its internal surface, and outright | |
| Darted through air to glad the patriarch’s sight. | 70 |
| Glancing from thence away, I sported on | |
| Where’er by pleasure or by duty drawn;— | |
| Now tipping some bright drop of pearly dew, | |
| Now plunging into heaven through tracks of blue, | |
| Now aiding to light up the glorious morn, | 75 |
| Or twilight’s softer mantle to adorn, | |
| Now darting through the depths of ocean clear, | |
| To paint a pearl—then to the atmosphere | |
| Again reflected, shooting to the skies | |
| Away, away, where thought can never rise; | 80 |
| Then trav’ling down to tinge some valley flower, | |
| Or point some beauty’s eye with mightier power, | |
| Or to some monarch’s gem new lustre bring, | |
| Or light with fire some prouder insect’s wing, | |
| Or lend to health’s red cheek a brighter dye, | 85 |
| Or flash delusive from consumption’s eye, | |
| Or sparkle round a vessel’s form by night, | |
| Or give the glow-worm its phosphoric light, | |
| Or clothe with terror threatening anger’s glance, | |
| Or from beneath the lids of love to dance, | 90 |
| Or place those little silver points on tears, | |
| Or light devotion’s eye, while mercy hears; | |
| In short, to aid with my poor transient flings, | |
| All scenes, all passions, all created things. | |
| Few rays of light have been where I have been, | 95 |
| Honor’d like me, or seen what I have seen: | |
| I glow’d amid the bush, which Moses saw, | |
| I lit the mount, when he proclaim’d his law: | |
| I to that blazing pillar brought my mite, | |
| Which glared along old Israel’s path by night. | 100 |
| I lent a glory to Elijah’s car, | |
| And took my promised flight from Bethl’em’s star. | |
| But not to holy ground was I confined, | |
| In classic haunts my duties were assign’d. | |
| I primed the bolts Olympian Jove would throw, | 105 |
| And Pluto sought me for his fires below: | |
| Over and over gallant Phœbus swore, | |
| I was the finest dart his quiver bore: | |
| Oft was I sent a peeping, anxious ray | |
| From Dian, hastening where Endymion lay: | 110 |
| When Iris shot from heaven, all swift and bright, | |
| Thither I rush’d, companion of her flight: | |
| From Vulcan’s anvil I was made to glare, | |
| I lent a horror to the Gorgon’s stare, | |
| I too have beam’d upon Achilles’ shield, | 115 |
| And dropp’d from Helen’s eye when Paris kneel’d; | |
| Faithful Achates, every school-boy knows, | |
| Struck from a flint my whole long year’s repose: | |
| Ten wretched days I pass’d in sobs and sighs, | |
| Because I could not dance on Homer’s eyes: | 120 |
| I once was decomposed from that pure oil, | |
| Which cheer’d the Athenian sage’s midnight toil: | |
| I from the brazen focus led the van, | |
| When Archimedes tried his frightful plan; | |
| ’T was I, from Cleopatra’s orb that hurl’d | 125 |
| The fatal glance, which lost her slave the world: | |
| I struck the sweetest notes on Memnon’s lyre, | |
| And quiver’d on the phœnix’ funeral pyre. | |
| Nor ancient scenes alone engross’d my pranks, | |
| The moderns likewise owe me many thanks. | 130 |
| Straight in at Raphael’s skylight once I broke, | |
| And led his pencil to its happiest stroke; | |
| I sparkled on the cross Belinda wore, | |
| And tipp’d the Peri’s wing of Thomas Moore; | |
| To Fontenelle I glided from above, | 135 |
| When whispering soft astronomy and love; | |
| And know, where’er the finest bards have sung | |
| The moon’s sweet praises with bewitching tongue, | |
| Or that blue evening star of mellow light, | |
| ’T was always after I had touch’d their sight. | 140 |
| Nor yet have poetry and painting shared | |
| My sole regards—for science I have cared. | |
| When Galileo raised his glass on high, | |
| Me first it brought to his astonish’d eye; | |
| When Newton’s prism loosed the solar beams, | 145 |
| I help’d to realize his heaven-taught dreams; | |
| When Herschel his dim namesake first descried, | |
| I was just shooting from that planet’s side. | |
| At all eclipses and conjunctions nigh, | |
| Of sun, or satellite, or primary, | 150 |
| Oft have I serv’d the longitude to fix— | |
| And heavens! in June of eighteen hundred six, | |
| How all New England smiled to see me burst, | |
| Out from behind her darken’d sun the first! | |
| I form’d a spangle on the modest robes | 155 |
| Of Doctor Olbers’ new-discover’d globes; | |
| I from the comet’s path was downward sent, | |
| When Bowditch seized me for an element: | |
| Once trav’ling from a fourth-rate star to earth, | |
| I gave the hint of abberration birth. | 160 |
| I led th’ electric flash to Priestley’s sight, | |
| And play’d my sports round Franklin’s daring kite; | |
| Absorb’d in copper once I long had lain, | |
| When lo! Galvani gave me life again. | |
| I taught the Swede that after sunny days, | 165 |
| Lilies and marigolds will dart forth rays; | |
| And when polarity made Savans stare | |
| For the first time, be sure that I was there. | |
| When iron first in oxygen was burnt, | |
| When Davy his metallic basis learnt, | 170 |
| When Brewster shaped his toy for peeping eyes, | |
| And Humboldt counted stars in southern skies, | |
| ’T was I that moved, while bursting on their sigh | |
| The flush of wonder, triumph, and delight. | |
| Nor scarce does history boast one splendid scene | 175 |
| Or deep-mark’d era, where I have not been. | |
| The sky-hung cross of Constantine, which turn’d | |
| All Rome to truth, by my assistance burn’d; | |
| When the great charter England’s rights restored, | |
| I scared her monarch from a baron’s sword; | 180 |
| When pious Europe led the far crusade, | |
| Did I not flash from Godfrey’s wielded blade? | |
| Did chivalry one tournament display | |
| Of dazzling pomp, from which I kept away? | |
| Was I not present at that gorgeous scene, | 185 |
| Where Leicester entertained old England’s queen? | |
| Did I not sparkle on the iron crown | |
| Which the triumphant Corsican took down? | |
| Did I not revel where those splendors shone, | |
| When the fourth George assumed Britannia’s throne? | 190 |
| And last, not least, could I refuse to hear, | |
| The summons of th’ Atlantic Souvenir? | |
| No, gentlest reader, trust your humble ray, | |
| ’T is here at length I would for ever stay, | |
| If to and fro I could descend and rise | 195 |
| ’Twixt these bright pages and your brighter eyes; | |
| Absorb’d, reflected, radiated, bent, | |
| With force emitted, or for ages pent, | |
| Through the wide world so long and often toss’d; | |
| Th’ excursive passion of my youth I ’ve lost. | 200 |
| I wish no more in my six thousandth year, | |
| Than just to take my peaceful mansion here, | |
| To deck these limnings with my happiest art, | |
| And ’mid these leaves to play my brightest part. | |
