  Aladdin’s lamp of Eastern tale, Which claimed my simple faith in youth, Its loss no longer I bewail, But hold it mine in very truth. The geni waits but my command To raise me, and, as swift as thought, Bear me abroad, from land to land, Wherever I would fain be brought. Amid the silent northern snows, Or where Egyptian deserts burn, Wherever man has been, he goes, And tells me all I wish to learn. He tells me how the stars had birth, And how their wondrous cycles run, Or places me beyond the earth, Unharmed, upon the giant sun. Through him I learn what Science knows, How this vast universe began; How life, from mean beginnings, rose High as God’s noblest creature, man. On me dawns many a truth profound About the swinging earth I tread, That it is one vast burying ground, The living living through the dead, That where once flowed the ocean’s tide, Now stand the homes of countless souls; That where once mountains rose in pride, Billow on foaming billow rolls. The geni stems the flood of time, And bears me almost to its source; Then as we float, bids scenes sublime And sad and happy shore our course. I see the tower of Babel rise, With busy builders everywhere, Up, ever up, towards the skies, Spearing the azure depths of air. I hear a voice from out a cloud, And see the workmen making signs,— How humble God can make the proud! How easily mar man’s best designs! I see the wild Light Tresses fall In cruel waves on fated Rome, And in an emperor’s audience hall I see the jackals make their home. Sleek monks I see within their cells, And knights in burnished armor housed. I hear the chime of marriage bells For maids whom death hath long espoused. I hear the poet’s stirring strain, That wins him immortality, And weep with such as found with pain Their idol but ignoble clay. Writ by the fearless Luther pen, The words that stirred the world I see; I hear the tramp of armÉd men, And know that thought, at last, is free. The joys and hopes, the griefs and fears, Defeats and conquests of the race, Through all the swift, eventful years, The geni at my wish will trace. And though he builds no palace vast For me, nor gives me queen for bride, While I am free to all the past, I ask from him no boon beside. |
|
