Tuesday, August 10, 2010

''The Last Man''

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Thomas Campbell

ALL worldly shapes shall melt in gloom,
      The Sun himself must die,
Before this mortal shall assume
      Its Immortality!
I saw a vision in my sleep
That gave my spirit strength to sweep
      Adown the gulf of Time!
I saw the last of human mould,
That shall Creation's death behold,
      As Adam saw her prime!

The Sun's eye had a sickly glare,
      The Earth with age was wan,
The skeletons of nations were
      Around that lonely man!
Some had expired in fight,--the brands
Still rested in their bony hands;
      In plague and famine some!
Earth's cities had no sound nor tread;
And ships were drifting with the dead
      To shores where all was dumb!

Yet, prophet-like, that lone one stood
      With dauntless words and high,
That shook the sere leaves from the wood
      As if a storm passed by,
Saying, "We are twins in death, proud Sun,
Thy face is cold, thy race is run,
      'Tis Mercy bids thee go.
For thou ten thousand thousand years
Hast seen the tide of human tears,
      That shall no longer flow.

"What though beneath thee man put forth
      His pomp, his pride, his skill;
And arts that made fire, floods, and earth,
      The vassals of his will;--
Yet mourn not I thy parted sway,
Thou dim discrowned king of day:
      For all those trophied arts
And triumphs that beneath thee sprang,
Healed not a passion or a pang
      Entailed on human hearts.

"Go, let oblivion's curtain fall
      Upon the stage of men,
Nor with thy rising beams recall
      Life's tragedy again.
Its piteous pageants bring not back,
Nor waken flesh, upon the rack
      Of pain anew to writhe;
Stretched in disease's shapes abhorred,
Or mown in battle by the sword,
      Like grass beneath the scythe.

"Ee'n I am weary in yon skies
      To watch thy fading fire;
Test of all sumless agonies
      Behold not me expire.
My lips that speak thy dirge of death--
Their rounded gasp and gurgling breath
      To see thou shalt not boast.
The eclipse of Nature spreads my pall,--
The majesty of Darkness shall
      Receive my parting ghost!

"This spirit shall return to Him
      That gave its heavenly spark;
Yet think not, Sun, it shall be dim
      When thou thyself art dark!
No! it shall live again, and shine
In bliss unknown to beams of thine,
      By Him recalled to breath,
Who captive led captivity.
Who robbed the grave of Victory,--
      And took the sting from Death!

"Go, Sun, while Mercy holds me up
      On Nature's awful waste
To drink this last and bitter cup
      Of grief that man shall taste--
Go, tell the night that hides thy face,
Thou saw'st the last of Adam's race,
      On Earth's sepulchral clod,
The darkening universe defy
To quench his Immortality,
      Or shake his trust in God!"

(Illustration is Caspar David Friedrich, Monk by the Sea, 1810.)

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