Book_i. 
 
 
 GopiglitN^.. 
 
 coFnuciflr oEPosm 
 
/ 
 
 Reriewers Read the Last Page of Cover. 
 
N. B. — Stanza numbers run from beginning of canto, B stands for book, C for 
 canto, S for stanza, P for page, and L for line of stanza. Punctuation not corrected. 
 
 S. L. 
 
 i6 3 
 
 36 
 36 
 12 
 49 
 51 
 57 
 78 
 3 
 7 
 8 
 
 54 
 4 
 13 
 38 
 55 
 25 
 82 
 
 94 
 
 115 
 
 II 
 
 57 
 3 
 5 
 
 29 
 
 2 25- 
 
 I 25- 
 
 I 30 
 
 4 32- 
 
 I 33—- 
 
 2 43 
 
 2 44- 
 
 4 45- 
 
 4 46 
 
 2 54- 
 
 I 55- 
 
 1 58- 
 
 2 59 
 I 59— 
 
 — t?/" should read OJ. 
 
 — it " " b>'ooks. 
 —despoiled should read despised. 
 
 — IViil into death I grope. 
 
 -On schetiters shame, disgrace and 
 flight. 
 
 — On the upturned pale face. 
 
 — // 7/// should read To. 
 —disobed should be disobeyed, 
 —understand should be understood . 
 —be should read me. 
 
 —Shieking should be Shrieking, 
 —unto should be undo, 
 —gtruck should be struck. 
 —reprocJies should be reproaches, 
 —o'er should read above, 
 —their should be there. 
 
 — everlastihg should be everlasting, 
 —plans should hs plains. 
 —you should be yet. 
 
 spend should be spent, 
 -darkness should read starkness. 
 ■polluion should he pollution. 
 -Md/ should be thai, 
 ■yell should be hell, 
 ■to should read its. 
 -Sir, the devil is a woman .'" — 
 -liiin should go out. 
 ■suipher should be sulphur. 
 ■The t should have an i before it. 
 ■most should read not. 
 ■outspoken should read outbroken. 
 First the should read to. 
 
 B. 
 
 c. 
 
 S. 
 
 L 
 
 P. 
 
 3 
 
 5 
 
 52 
 
 I 
 
 6d 
 
 3 
 
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 7^ 
 
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 13 
 
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 66 
 
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 20 
 
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 28 
 
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 45 
 
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 56 
 
 I 
 
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 I 
 
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 I 
 
 131 
 
 2 
 
 71 
 
 4. 
 
 2 
 
 52 
 
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 73 
 
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 60 
 
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 73 
 
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 I 
 
 78- 
 
 4 
 
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 „IIO 
 
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 78 
 
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 55 
 
 I 
 
 81 
 
 4 
 
 4 
 
 76 
 
 I 
 
 82- 
 
 4 
 
 4 
 
 93 
 
 I 
 
 82- 
 
 4 
 
 5 
 
 15 
 
 4 
 
 85 
 
 4 
 
 5 
 
 66 
 
 I 
 
 ■87- 
 
 5 
 
 I 
 
 96 
 
 2 
 
 94 
 
 5 
 
 I 
 
 III 
 
 2 
 
 95- 
 
 5 
 
 2 
 
 20 
 
 3 
 
 96 
 
 5 
 
 2 
 
 36 
 
 2 
 
 96 
 
 5 
 
 6 
 
 6 
 
 4 
 
 "5- 
 
 5 
 
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 36 
 
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 1:6 
 
 5 
 
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 39 
 
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 116- 
 
 5 
 
 6 
 
 51 
 
 3 
 
 117- 
 
 5 
 
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 51 
 
 4 
 
 117- 
 
 5 
 
 6 
 
 90 
 
 3 
 
 118- 
 
 5 
 
 6 
 
 94 
 
 4 
 
 118- 
 
 —kindness s'hould be kindnesses, 
 -ive should be 7tias. 
 —his should read their, 
 —ivoiuan should be luomen. 
 
 her mind ' s perplexed . 
 
 —love should be lore. 
 -The should read IVhat. 
 
 — The women of caste where, Sir'c. 
 -virtue should read honest. 
 
 — That lulls me so soft' asleep, 
 —quest should he'guest. 
 
 -led should be lead. 
 
 — The look that upon it Ilugon east. 
 
 — You quoted against me -ivhat you 'd 
 
 find, 
 -in should be on. 
 -these should read this, 
 —assumed should read took, 
 -delay should be detail. 
 -A should be As. 
 
 -Inferno had won ! " Huzza, huzza ! 
 -sing should be sings. 
 -Hiaxvath should be Hiawatha, 
 -go should read7(i/tc on. 
 -filled should be filed, 
 -s/n-ink should be shirk. 
 
 — When he in sorrow from them rowed, 
 -into should be unto. 
 
 -the Indians should read some 
 
 strangers, 
 -bring should read grow. 
 -Britaniiian should be Britannia. 
 
THE 
 
 IMfEEMlL COMElf, 
 
 BY RICHARD GERNER. 
 
 "b 
 
 ADVANCE EDITION 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 1881. 
 
 r 
 

 Entered according to act of Congress, in the year 1881, by 
 
 RICHARD GERNER, 
 
 In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at. Washington, D. C. 
 
 ' f- 
 
I^^D 
 
 PAOK 
 
 PREFACE 5 
 
 BOOK I.-DARK DEATH. 
 
 rANTO I.— THE PAST 11 
 
 II.— THE DYING DUELLIST 13 
 
 III.— FAITH 14 
 
 ^ IV.— THE FEAR OF DEATH 16 
 
 v.— REMORSE 17 
 
 VI.— AZRAEL 20 
 
 BOOK IL — THE INFERNAL REALMS. 
 
 CANTO 1.— THE DREAM OF HELL 22 
 
 II.-THE REALITY FORESHADOWED 25 
 
 III.— THE UNSEEN UNIVERSE 28 
 
 IV.-THE EMPY'REAL SHELL 32 
 
 v.— INFERNAL POLITICS 36 
 
 VI.— THE TORTURES OF THE DAMNED 40 
 
 BOOK ILL— THE INFERNAL HISTORY. 
 
 CANTO I.— THE CHARACTER OF THE BLESSED 46 
 
 II.-THE THIRD TP^STAMENT 49 
 
 III.— THE NEW GENESIS 52 
 
 IV.— AUTOCREATION 55 
 
 v.— THE TRUTH AT LAST 58 
 
 VI.— VIVE LE ROI! 62 
 
 BOOK IV.— THE CONQUEST OF HEAVEN. 
 
 CANTO I.— THE CALL TO ARMS 6(5 
 
 II.-LIGHT 71 
 
 III.-THE QUEEN OF HEAVEN 74 
 
 IV.— A DIVINE FIEND 79 
 
 v.— THE INFERNAL VICTORY 84 
 
 VI.-HELL-FIRE 87 
 
 BOOK v.— THE DAWN OF REASON. 
 
 CANTO I.— THE SECOND COMING 91 
 
 II.-THE HISTORY OF A FAITH 95 
 
 III.-THE SHATTERED CROSS 99 
 
 IV.-THE PORTENT OF DESTRUCTION 104 
 
 v.— THE DOCTRINE OF HELL HO 
 
 VI.— THE RETURN TO NOTHING 115 
 
DEDICATED TO COMMON SENS 
 
f S © ^ o^ 
 
 In the name of all that is sensible and reasona- 
 ble, the present poetical work was designed and 
 stands now written. Its author, in making his 
 bow to the public, unhesitatingly announces hnn- 
 self as uncompromisingly antagonistic to all the 
 principles espoused by and included in the relig- 
 ous creeds of all nations. He is an atlieist from 
 first to last, in all the articles of his pliilosophy. 
 He discards blind faith as unworthy of the intel- 
 ligent thinker, admits no premise advanced by 
 the disciples of any form of religion, and accepts 
 no circumstance of time and place not scientifi- 
 cally demonstrated or, at least, supported by the 
 dictates of reason and eomrnqn sense. His only 
 religion is the religion of humanity and tlie pur- 
 suit of real knowledge. He desires to wound no- 
 body's feeling, but, in the exercise of his conscien- 
 tiousness, cannot stop to consider wliere the chips 
 fall when he hews to the line. He cannot l)e 
 hampered with conventionalities and modern 
 fashions. He must be true to his intelligence at 
 all times. In this spirit he appears before tlie 
 reader, neither for the purpose of amusing, offend- 
 ing, instructing, dictating or preaching, but im- 
 bued with the earnest desire to impress the sig- 
 nificance of his studies and beliefs upon such as 
 shall display the patience of giving him their at- 
 tention. 
 
 Belore entering upon the subject of the work at 
 hand, the author, acting upon the belief that a 
 reader is desirous of knowing something of the 
 personality of a writer before beginning the 
 perusal of bis writings, begs to be permitted to 
 say something about himself by way of an intro- 
 duction of his character to tlie reader, thinking 
 that his motives may thereby be the better un- 
 derstood, and many obscure points in the follow- 
 ing poem placed in a clearer light. He trusts that 
 he may be acquitted of unworthy motives in so 
 doing, such as the parade of his vanity or the de- 
 sire of notoriety at any price. 
 
 * Of foreign birth, an American by education, he 
 was at an early age given opportunities to exer- 
 cise a deep-rooted desire to make his mark in the 
 world with hispen, and now,at the age of twenty- 
 four, after a not uneventful literary career, he 
 comes forward with the first work of any magni- 
 tude, trembling with mingled liopes and fears. 
 The reading of liis boyhood was extensive and 
 rambling, not always of the best, and often inim- 
 ical to his natural tendencies. This last remark 
 refers to the period spent, or rather misspent, in 
 
 the pursuit of a technical education which left 
 vestiges of acquirement on the day of liis gradua- 
 tion, only to be effaced entirely by the first return 
 to pure literature as a pastime and an ambition. 
 Romantic and historical fiction has ever been his 
 favorite and almost uninterrupted indulgence, 
 filling his mind with vistas of the impossible and 
 the unscientifically speculative. Tlie eflects of 
 this, he is afraid, are only too apparent in the 
 present work, but he consoles himself with the 
 thought that they are not entirely foreign to that 
 work's nature. He is but little acquainted with 
 the literatures of nations, viewed from a scholar's 
 standard of knowledge, but sufficiently so to 
 have invested the work at hand with all required 
 references to past writings on the subject under 
 consideration, and insufficiently so as to have 
 invested it with any voluntary or involuntary 
 imitatory features. His knowledge of theology 
 is not the result of midnight oil inquiry, but of 
 an extended and intimate association with pro- 
 fessing Christians, to whose teachings he lias been 
 an attentive and wondering listener. Then, too, 
 his own religious education in tender years has 
 not been neglected, and he has only deserted the 
 banner of faith after a long and earnest exami- 
 nation of its tenets, and the realization of its utter 
 philosophical worthlessness. All the prominent 
 faiths have been in turn examined and, after 
 more or less hesitation, discarded, the fundamen- 
 tal Buddhist creed being the last on the list. He 
 is now convinced that faith is not an inseparable 
 attribute to humankind, but^ather a manner of 
 intellectual vice, indulged in at the expense of 
 the mental ennoblement of nations. He is pre- 
 pared to say that education will, at a not very 
 late day, obliterate the remaining existence of 
 creeds which are gradually dwindling into insig- 
 nificance and ultimate oblivion. It maybe neces- 
 sary to add, in the summing up of his individual 
 traits, that the English tongue was not that of 
 his childhood, and that it was only acquired in 
 boyhood after another language's fashions had 
 left its unextinguishable marks upon his style. 
 With tliis brief explanation of his natural pro- 
 pensities, the critic will be prepared to deal with 
 their emanations, and particularly with the work 
 now before him. 
 
 The autobiographer has made reference to a not 
 uneventful literary career. This will seem, to say 
 the least, surprising to the ninety-nine hun- 
 dredths of the readers of this work, who have 
 
IREFACE. 
 
 never before heard his name mentioned. In jus- 
 tice to himself, he must therefore beg the reader 
 to be made acquainted with a condensed review 
 oftlieten years preceding the presentation liereof. 
 At tlie age of fourteen, after a number of abortive 
 attempts to sliine in the galaxy of the world's lit- 
 erary liglits, which attempts are happily lost to 
 postey ty together with the boyish, and therefore 
 pardonable, ambition which incited thern, he be- 
 came familiar with and an humble member of, 
 an institution with which the public at large is 
 but little acquainted: the fraternity of American 
 amateur journalists consisting of an aggregation 
 of boys and youths, and, it may be added, girls 
 and young ladies, scattered throughout the States, 
 who make it a pleasure to edit and publish a 
 number of mostly diminutive and mostly month- 
 ly journals, either printed by themselves or, for 
 such as can afford it, by professional printers, 
 and contributed to by a number of amateur 
 authors. This fraternity is styled Amateurdom : 
 "dora" for short. Into the ranks of tiiese ama- 
 teur authors the writer succeeded in working 
 himself, by dint of the concoction of a large num- 
 ber of wonderful and fearful sensational creations 
 of a youthful mind poisoned by tlie pernicious 
 influence of contributors to the weekly juvenile 
 press. Gradually, a reformation in the demand 
 for topics brought the amateur autliors to their 
 senses, and the writer fell from his estate and un- 
 enviable notoriety in the " dom" until, by re- 
 peated and persistent effort, he managed to regain 
 his prestige by the production of a number of 
 more serious works, including many essays and 
 a few poems. A single success in the poetical 
 line Anally determined him to try his fortune in 
 that direction ; and, discarding prose for the time 
 being, he set to work at a series of poems, some 
 of which have been as successful as others have 
 failed ignominiously. Later on, he dabbled in 
 Eastern romances, publislied in the Danhury News, 
 until, finall.v, he forsook all other literary work 
 ia order to be able to devote himself exclusively 
 to the composition of the appended work. His 
 career as an amateur author came to an end, 
 brought on by political causes in which he was 
 unsuccessful; his connection with the " dom" 
 thereby ceased, and all lie has to remember it by 
 is the file of his contributions to its journals, and 
 a handsome farewell testimonial. 
 
 The signal poetical success incidentally above 
 mentioned was "Terrible Snow,"' probably better 
 known to the reading public tlian its author, 
 since it has had the run of the press and been re- 
 ceived into collections of standard verse. Modeled 
 on the plan of " Beautiful Snow," but opposed to 
 it in sentiment, it made a way of its own. Its 
 first publication marks the turn to professional 
 literature in the author's career, as well as his 
 decided preference for poetical writing, and since 
 then, numerous verses, of all quality and length, 
 have been credited to his name by way of promi- 
 nent journals, especially by the New York Com- 
 mercial Advertiser. 
 The reader is now in a measure prepared to 
 
 hear what the author has to say, by way of intro- 
 duction,, of the subject and subject-matter of tliese 
 pages. Some explanation is indubitably neces- 
 sary since immaturitj' of conceptive powers and 
 nonfluency of diction have prevented tlie author 
 from doing that justice to the topic involved 
 which it unquestionably deserves. 
 
 The present poem is not a comedy in the mod- 
 ern acceptation of that word, at any rate not in 
 its literary form. It is so designated because of 
 the title of Dante's sublime creation. It is more 
 a comedy than "Tlie Divine Comedy" is, since 
 that work is, in a measure, an earnest and an 
 honest one. The author of "The Divine Comedy" 
 believed what he wrote, at least in his topic's 
 fundamental aspects; the author of "The Infei- 
 nal Comedy" believes nothing of the kind. In 
 that respect, the latter work is a comedy in the 
 broadest sense of tlie word. Its author believes 
 in no lieaven and no hell; his pictures of them 
 are not intended to impress their existence upon 
 the reader, but to point to a moral. Hence, "The 
 Infernal Comedy" is neither a companion piece 
 nor a reputation nor an imitation of nor a bur-: 
 lesque on, nor a comparison with, "The Divine 
 Comedy." 
 
 The plan on which the Comedy before the 
 reader is based, was not hit upon like a happy 
 thought, but is the result of long and earnest 
 contemplation. Its origin does not lie in Dante's 
 work, as may be supposed, for the title came long 
 after the work was begun, and before the author 
 ever knew what Dante's work was all about. It 
 grew rather out of a sense of vindictiveness 
 toward the Christian religion. Tlie original idea 
 was to present a heaven and a hell as different 
 from the Christian aspect of tliose localities as it 
 was possible to conceive, and more in accordance 
 with the well known Vjurlesques on the same by 
 French and German humorists. Indeed, when 
 the work was begun, the author had but a very 
 hazy conception of what he was going to do at all, 
 and actually, in the midst of a settled purpose, 
 turns deliberately about, ridicules what he has 
 written and goes off in an entirel.v new direction. 
 The fourth canto of the second book marks this 
 transition. There his ideas became set and from 
 that point the poem flows premeditatedly on to 
 the end. The flrst book Mas originally written 
 as a separate work, and it was only near its finish 
 that the author bethought himself to use it as the 
 flrst part of his long contenplated infernal work. 
 The metre, it will be seen, changes with every 
 book, the last being like the flrst; the author's 
 flrst consideration in his choice of metre having 
 been simplicity, even to childishness, so as to 
 permit him to devote all that time to his topic 
 which so many other ambitious versifiers expend 
 upon clumsy stanzas and fanciful rhythmic com- 
 binations. 
 
 Now that the work is finished, and the author, 
 turns back to examine into the various emotions 
 which animated him during its composition, and 
 the manner in whicli those emotions have found 
 vent, he finds it indispensable to prepare the 
 
PREFACE, 
 
 deader for what is coming by a psychological 
 outline of liis labors without beforeliand destroy- 
 ing any interest in the work which it may own 
 in a narrative sense. 
 
 Although "Tlie Infernal (.'oniedy" is (he result 
 of much speculation, it is not a speculative work. 
 It does not seek to add to the literature of pliilo- 
 sophical inquiry It claims for its alleged scien- 
 tific speculations no value whatever; tliese spec- 
 ulations are not intended to be farcical, but have 
 earnest points in view. Thus. Queen Mepha's 
 di.ssertation on the beginning of all things, whicli 
 is the feature of the third book, is not a burlesque, 
 but purposes to show that an intelligent thinker 
 sliould rather build up for himself a partly or 
 wholly fallacious conception of the mystery of 
 creation and nature, to be partly or wholly cor- 
 ' reeled or substituted by other conceptions, by 
 futui'e studies, on a purely reasonable basis, than 
 to dismiss the subject by accepting the idea of a 
 Creator and conforming to a creed. 
 
 "The Infernal Comedy" is, in general, a picture 
 of the hereafter from the aspect of the nineteenth 
 century but does not admit of any kind of an 
 hereafter. It is evolutionary in sympathy and 
 rejects everytliing that is not in conformity with 
 that doctrine. The purpose of the drawing of 
 such a picture was, at heart, to throw ridicule on 
 the existing orthodox conception of that state; 
 more than that, to show that unknown things 
 are not as strange as the.v are pictured by the 
 fancy, and thateverything is natural and familiar 
 when but brought into contact with. And every- 
 where tliroughout the poem, it will be noticed, 
 the spirit is rampant to ai^use and confound 
 orthodoxy. If that is a fault, and the work must 
 be condemned on that account, tlie author refuses 
 to save the work at the expense of lopping it of 
 those traits. Indeed, he despairs of correcting 
 its faults, since it bristles with such, look at it 
 from whatever side you will. It is shambling, 
 rambling, illogical, contradictory, rhetorically 
 and grammatically incorrect, and offensive to 
 the outward genius of a bigoted age. But the 
 author claims for it that it is novel and unique. 
 If his critics will echo him in that conceit, he is 
 content; if not, it simply goes to show that he 
 has overestimated its merits. 
 
 The work is very much in need of a charitable 
 perusal, both in mercy to the thought involved 
 and the execution exhibited. It was written in a 
 hurry, at ragged intervals, in expectation of 
 momentary disturbance. Too much space lias 
 been given to unimportant points and unneces- 
 sary philosophizing, and too little to really essen- 
 tial features. Thus, the conception of the location 
 of hell presented in the fourth cantoof the second 
 book is poorly, insufficiently and timidly pre- 
 sented, and not emphasized until the fourth canto 
 of the third book. The author therefore desires 
 the readers to dwell on stanzas 34-38 of tlie fourth 
 canto of the second book and fix the conception 
 rigidly in his or her mind before going any 
 further, until recurrence shall be had to itfurtlier 
 on. (p. 56.) Much is didactic and monotonous 
 
 which might have been enlivened with fanciful 
 and rhetorical graces if more severe labor had 
 been expended on it. The author can but assure 
 the reader that the second half of the work is 
 bet ter than the first, and beg him or her tocnduro 
 tlie latter for the sake of tlie former. 
 
 Much delight has been manifested in the com- 
 position of the third and fourth hooks, since these 
 gave the author full opportunity to find vent for 
 long pent up cherisiied leelings and sentiments. 
 He is frank enough to confess that he lias personal 
 and private motives to be malicious toward the 
 professors of Christianity, and, in the pasquinade 
 upon the story of Adam and Eve as given in the 
 fifth canto of the tliird book, and the conquest of 
 heaven as set forth in the fourth i)Ook, he does 
 not hesitate to say that he has been intentionally 
 aggressive and unsparing. But for all that he 
 asserts that he has not been more severe with 
 Christianity than its scientific and historical 
 merits deserve, and has conscientiously written 
 only his sincerest beliefs. 
 
 The author expects to be charged with immor- 
 ality by fanatics and incensed religionists. In 
 reply to this he has to say, beforehand, that ''The 
 Infernal Comedy" was not intended for the de- 
 lectation of prudes and children, nor for tVie gen- 
 eral public, and its author does not propose to set 
 up for a reformer of puldic morals. On the con- 
 trary he has attempted to show that the paraded 
 morality of the Anglo-Saxons is a mockery, and 
 that they need to be shocked by a glaring 
 effrontery in the teeth of their code of morals in 
 order to be brought to their senses. The author 
 fi>ndly hopes that "The Infernal (.'oniedy" will 
 do that for tliem. 
 
 On the whole, the author has no apologies to 
 make for his opinions, sentiments and beliefs, 
 invites no discussions and accepts no compro- 
 mise. He presents no plea, advances no new 
 theory or doctrine besrging for examination and 
 acceptation, does not desire any sympathy, and 
 is prepared to regard the differently opinionated 
 with indilTerence, and to treat such of them as 
 propose to wax violent toward him, witii scorn. 
 As an aspirant for literary honors, he pleads for 
 mercy and charity; as a thinker, he asks for 
 nothing of the kind. 
 
 Returning to the work itself, the author feels 
 bound to say a few words about the four principal 
 characters introduced into the narrative of the 
 poem. 
 
 The central figure and hero of the epic is the 
 anti-Christ of " sacred" and "profane" hi.story, 
 by an ancient Hebraic designation known as 
 Armillus, for further reference to whom the reader 
 is referred to the encyclopedias. He has been here 
 endowed with many of the author's personal 
 traits, and been made the exponent of his opin- 
 ions and sentiments. He is pictured as impres- 
 sionable, dauntless and altogether human. He 
 speaks for himself; his career constitutes the 
 thread of the story. ' 
 
 Queen Mepha is the impersonation of wonian- 
 liood as the author loves to picture a woman to 
 
PREFACE, 
 
 himself, and she Is therefore the heroine. Her 
 name is a brief effemination of Mephisto. She is 
 the womanly counterpart of the hero, and is 
 endowed with all the possible graces that can be 
 consistently combined in a human being. The 
 character is, of course, an idealization of an ex- 
 isting prototype. 
 
 Queen Diva is the personification of the Anglo- 
 Saxon woman, beautiful as an angel, graceful as 
 a sylph, but heartless, unnatural, fanatic, bigoted 
 and narrow-minded, her intellect, heart and soul 
 prostituted by the influence of a fiercely Chris- 
 tian training. The shrewd reader will at once 
 imagine that he sees in this character the key to 
 the mystery of the author's hatred toward the 
 church, and he is not altogether wrong; but the 
 author must warn him or her that he is not a 
 proselyte from malice, but from conviction, and 
 that circumstances have merely aggravated his 
 natural repugnance toward the faith into bitter 
 resentment. The author has known, seen and 
 studied Diva in a living woman, but has of course 
 welded her here to suit the purposes of his work, 
 and he does not hesitate to say that he has placed 
 Armillusin Diva's estimation where he himself 
 has stood in that of the original. He thinks that, 
 in general, an Anglo-Saxon woman is either a 
 thoughtless fool or a fanatic fiend, and he de- 
 mands the indictment of the established churches 
 as the immediate cause of such a deplorable con- 
 dition of things. 
 
 Carelta is a woman occupying the same position 
 in the story of the poem that Haidee occupies in 
 the elder Dumas' masterpiece, -'The Count of 
 Monte Christo," introduced for the purpose of re- 
 warding the hero, after the manner of stage 
 comedies, for all the trials and tribulations he 
 has passed through ; and as the present work has 
 once come under the head of a comedy, its 
 author deems it necessary to let the curtain, at 
 the end of the story proper, fall on bliss. But for 
 fear this may appear too conventional, he ends 
 the poem itselt in what Q,ueen Mepha says every, 
 thing has begun— in nothing. And as "The In- 
 fernal Comedy" is a part of everything, it is per- 
 force obligatory upon its creator that it should 
 end in nothing. 
 
 For the character of Carelta, and some of the 
 incidents in the fifth book, the author is indebted 
 to Wilkie Collins' charming but hastily dashed 
 oflT novelette, " The Captain's Last Love," from 
 which he lias not hesitated to borrow, feeling that 
 an imputation of plagiarism were ridiculous : as 
 much charge Shakespeare of plagiarizing from 
 Boccaccio, or Dryden from Aesop. 
 
 "The Infernal Comedy" contains much blas- 
 phemy, viewed from the Christian standpoint, 
 and will call down upon its author's head the 
 execration of the probably vast majority of its 
 readers who have been taught to regard with 
 feelings of veneration what the author holds up 
 to .scorn and derision. He has been told that in 
 any other country but this, he would be im- 
 prisoned and punished for the creation and pub- 
 lication of sentiments held to be so atrocious, 
 and he has been warned that even In the land 
 of the free and the home of the brave, he will be 
 fortunate to escape being prosecuted as a foul- 
 mouthed blasphemer. The author is perfectly 
 willing to take his chances, feeling that the nation 
 which will tolerate Col. Robert G. Ingersoll, will 
 also tolerate him. He fiatters himself that he 
 knows the nation just well enough to believe that, 
 if the present work will be a successful one at all, 
 it will be so mainly on account of the heterodox 
 opinions given such emphasized prominence 
 therein. 
 
 A matter that has given the author much 
 greater concern than the possibility of his being 
 legally prosecuted, is the dedication of the present 
 volume, for he has been so tossed from pillar to 
 post, aflfection being the pillar and discretion the 
 post, that he came well nigh abandoning the 
 solution of this knotty problem in despair. But 
 at the suggestion of a kind critic, and upon 
 mature consideration, he has concluded to dedi- 
 cate the work to common sense, including 
 humanity in general, since every living being is, 
 indeed, individually interested in the question of 
 the hereafter. He hopes that nobody will be dis- 
 appointed, but there were too many personal 
 claims to be considered, to arrive at any other 
 conclusion. May each and all of the disappointed 
 ones, if there are any, forgive the author, which 
 they can do all the more easily, when they con- 
 sider that the dedicatee of "The Infernal Com- 
 edy" would at best be enjoying a very doubtful 
 honor. 
 
 The author has been careful to escape conven- 
 tionalities in this preface, and will not now dis- 
 figure it with such, or burden it with further ex- 
 planations and apologies; he therefore refers the 
 reader, for further information, to "The Infernal 
 Comedy" itself. He is not a little interested to 
 know what the verdict will be, although he does 
 not particularly care whether It will be favorable 
 or not; to him, with regard to the present work, 
 vituperation will be sweet flattery. 
 
 R. G 
 New York, October i, iS8o. 
 
' Lasciatc ogni spvranza vol che niltuitc ! " — Dante. 
 
 THE INFERNAL COMEDY. 
 
 ■■' Alensch, z/erspotie nicht d,'i! Teufel : 
 Kurzja ist die Lebenslmkn ; 
 Und die cwigc Verdaniniss 
 Ist kein blosscr Poebehvahii ! ' ' 
 
 — Heine. 
 
REETING: 
 
 1 sing not for the world to like my song ; 
 
 To many ears, perchance, my strain is wrong : 
 
 I sing to please myself, and others, too. 
 
 Who'll change forthwith, to like my song, their view, 
 
 And form themselves to find a new ideal, 
 
 Q)uite other strains to hear, pulsations feel — 
 
 And if my song cannot command its world, 
 
 Then let it he into uhlivion hurled ! 
 

 CANTO I. 
 
 THE PAST. 
 
 *' A LAS! I've 
 Xi. A sinful, 
 
 ve led a wicked life, 
 nad career ; 
 A revelrous and reckless strife 
 It proved in all, I fear : 
 
 A life with folly in my heart, 
 
 With frolic in my brain ; 
 So reckless did I play my pan 
 
 That I was called insane. 
 
 In dark exploits, in shameful vice, 
 
 I threw my youth away, 
 And tired nature paid the price 
 
 Of manhood gone astray. 
 
 I knelt at idle pleasure's throne. 
 
 Enamored of her charm. 
 Where clouded skies were never known. 
 
 Nor sorrow nor alarm. 
 
 In principles, in sophistries 
 
 My fancy was indulged, 
 And fed with startling ministries 
 
 That cannot be divulged. 
 
 I knew no right, and knew nu wrong : 
 
 I did what pleased me best ; 
 I drank my wine, and sang my song 
 
 And minded no behest. 
 
 1 loved my mistress : loved her well — 
 
 A wife? I had no wife. 
 You see, though I was so for hell. 
 
 For that I was not rife. 
 
 I kissed the girl, and fondled her, 
 And decked her out in gold : 
 
 So did 1 love and pet my cur — 
 As bought, so were they sold. 
 
 My days were spent in mad excess. 
 
 My morals were debased. 
 My sympathies ran to distress, 
 
 My honor stood defaced. 
 
 But we must live, and not like beasts ; 
 
 Our life is short — too short ! 
 So let us live at endless feasts, 
 
 And make the thing a sport. 
 
 What are the morals of a man ? 
 
 What is his honor, pray '! 
 The former wears he when he can, 
 
 When not, flings them away ; 
 
 The latter is a tender flower ; 
 
 Temptation chills its hue : 
 'Tis drenched in Mammon's goldenshower 
 
 And nourished but by few. 
 
 I sold them all for love and wine, 
 And cried them down in song : 
 
 So was I free, and joy was mine : 
 So fine's the thing that's wrong. 
 
 A noble thought was not for me, 
 
 A sentiment I feared ; 
 My heart was full of deviltry, 
 
 My soul with sin was bleared. 
 
 But then, what is a noble thought'? 
 
 'Tis praised in poet's verse : 
 And poet's verses are but wrought 
 
 Some publisher to curse. 
 
 A sinful soul has no hard cares ; 
 
 It lives at liberty 
 Or dull restraint and weary prayers. 
 
 And virtue's poverty. 
 
 I loved naught but the naked vice 
 
 That stared me in the face; 
 My intellect knew no device 
 
 That led not to disgrace: 
 
 But naked vice is better far 
 
 Than vice in virtue cloaked ; 
 Disgrace can nothing touch nor mar ; 
 
 Its bearer is not yoked. — 
 
 1 liked the Bacchanalian songs, 
 
 I courted dnmken joy. 
 And joined the most abandoned throngs 
 
 While I was still a boy. 
 
 And 1 did well ! I owed no man 
 
 A duty ; I was free ; 
 My credit to destruction ran : 
 
 But credit is a flea 
 
 That bites and bothers all the time, 
 And gives no moment's peace. 
 
THE INFERNAL CO MED V. 
 
 That will not with diversion chime, 
 And want^ too hmg a lea>ic. 
 
 M\- rnin ])n>ved the spotted curd. 
 
 My sorrow proved the die : 
 With woman I my manhcjod marred. 
 
 My virtue to defy. 
 
 But ruin means dependence ne'er. 
 
 And sorrow oft is sweet : 
 And woman is so fine, so fair : 
 
 And vice is such a treat 1 
 
 My virtue? Ha, 1 knew it not. 
 
 And di> not know it now : 
 1 drowned it in the awful blot 
 
 ( )f sin, in many a row : 
 
 A blot, aye, blot on worldly woe, 
 
 A blot on worldly strife ; 
 Without it would I pine; not know 
 
 This miserable life. 
 
 My fame was born in golden wine, 
 
 In which I laved my all ; 
 1 would not, at the dearest shrine, 
 
 .Acknowledge reason's thrall. 
 
 I had no other shrine btu self. 
 
 No other link that bound 
 Me to the world, and all the pelf 
 
 That ill it may be found. ^ 
 
 My faith in God '! 1 owned no creed ; 
 
 My nfe was too profane : 
 Profane, but pleasant. Say, what need 
 
 Had I to heaven attain V 
 
 What would you have'.' .-V man musl live 
 
 And living, must enjoy — 
 How easy 'tis one's soul to give 
 To Satan for a toy : 
 
 He plays it well, so well 1 would 
 Know of no future bliss, 
 ■ No other world, no happier mood 
 Than I have found in this. 
 
 1 never made a good resolve, 
 I knew the thing would break; 
 
 No prayer can now my soul absolve: 
 I am a sorry rake I 
 
 Ha, ha ! Hut future rakes will sing 
 
 Of me, the king of rakes ; 
 No better tribute could they bring : 
 
 How happy me it makes ! 
 
 What need to pray V I would not pray ; 
 
 E'en heaven high would prove dull ; 
 Besides, what can I do or say 
 
 My record to annul ? 
 
 Away with penitence, with prayer ; 
 
 The coward only prays. 
 When death into his face doth stare. 
 
 And it no more delays. — 
 
 From tears ] wrung the golden prize. 
 
 From wrecks I gleaned my gain : 
 I turned from pleading words and eyes , 
 
 They wept and bleared in vain. 
 
 If men instead of men will be 
 
 Rank fools, is it my fault? 
 They might have had the best of me, 
 
 And cried my victory halt. 
 
 I won the race, and stand defamed — 
 
 Confound all earthly fame ! — 
 1 am the victor, nor ashamed 
 
 Despoiled to leave ray name. — 
 
 A woman proved no sacred thin.t; 
 
 In my depraved esteem, 
 And chastity could never bring 
 
 A blush my cheek to teem. 
 
 But la ! 1 had a merry time ; 
 
 How gaily went the hours ! 
 What if they drew through lillh and slime 
 
 i\le on to sin's dark bowers '! 
 
 Dark, did 1 say? Nay, light as day. 
 
 Effulgent with delight, i 
 
 Illuminated with display. 
 
 Where'er I turned my sight, 
 
 I never knew a single care, 
 
 And ne'er knew struggle's woe ; 
 The choicest pleasures were my fare : 
 
 I won at evei-y throw ! 
 
 1 lived ! So live and follow me. 
 
 And honor me my life, 
 And carve my name on every tree 
 
 A hero in the strife. 
 
 I take a pleasiuc in the fame 
 
 ( )f fellow such as I ; 
 .My life was never dull nor tame : 
 
 To prove it, needs but try. 
 
 The gates of hell are gates of glee. 
 
 And hell itself a foir 
 Of rare delight and revelry 
 
 And sport without compare. — 
 
 How bright is death when life was dar-k. 
 
 How dark, w hen life was bright ; 
 And sin when stripped, how dread, how stark; 
 
 How black the on-come night ! 
 
 The contest bids me nigh despair; 
 
 I should abandon hope ; 
 But with most unaffrighted air 
 
 Will I into death grope. 
 
 What can I fear? I've still the wits 
 
 That built up my career : ■ 
 
 The shadow of destruction flits 
 About me, while I cheer. 
 
 Come on, grim Death. I fear thee not : 
 Haste hither, haste, hot hell : 
 
DARK DEATH. 
 
 J3 
 
 And while I lie in damp and rot, 
 My soul, still staunch, shall swell. 
 
 Its fiery legions to defy. 
 
 As dares the hero death, 
 When tattooed demons taunt and try. 
 
 Amidst the flames' fell breath. 
 
 So will I stand before the throne 
 
 Of Satan in his realm. 
 And stand beside the blister-lilou n 
 
 Defiance's stern helm. 
 
 Advance with torture, gloom and nigh 
 Commence the frightful scene ; 
 
 Charge on with overpowering might. 
 Display the red and green : 
 
 "J'is virtue but that fears the test 
 
 Of judgment at the last. 
 And trembles at divine behest 
 
 To stand within the blast. — 
 
 A drama this career '11 not end ; 
 
 The curtain ne'er shall fall 
 On raptiu-e, and the villain tend 
 
 To drown and die in gall. 
 
 The painted stage is but a lie : 
 In life, the play ends weak. 
 
 And in it wretches do not die. 
 And gallant heroes wreak 
 
 On villains punishment, affright, 
 
 On couples love and bliss, 
 On schemers ignominy, flight. 
 
 Amidst the gallery's hiss. 
 
 Ouite otherwise the grand finale 
 Of this, my play, shall be ; 
 
 Quite different shall the last signale 
 Here soimd and swell, trust me. — 
 
 So am I safe ; 1 will yet win 
 
 Wherever I may go : 
 The oats shall yet bring blush cm sin 
 
 That I have yet to sow ! 
 
 Life's dream is o'er; I loved it well : 
 But I shall love death too. 
 
 When I shall revel down in hell, 
 Fledged in with pursuits new'.'" 
 
 The moon-rays cast a fitful gleam 
 
 Upon th' upturned pale face, 
 A face that seemed as though a dream 
 
 Held it in its embrace. 
 
 The eye stared into unseen, far 
 
 E,\panses, visionful, 
 And shone as yonder twinkling star 
 
 So bright' derisionfnl: 
 
 It was the dying efibrt made 
 
 To utilize its sight, 
 And so it pierced, in its dei;ade. 
 
 The wild and gloomy night, 
 
 .\flash Vi'ith calm, assertive power, 
 
 As to defy the world ; 
 The shameful past to overpower 
 
 E'er 'twas to ruin hurled. 
 
 It was a face without reproach, 
 
 A face that breathed soul. 
 That knew no fear at the approach 
 
 Of such a living's .goal. 
 
 The energy, the swarthy hue. 
 
 The massive brow's anneal, 
 Where stood no death-nigh, clammy dew, 
 
 Bespoke the man of steel. 
 
 Each feature was a faultless curve, 
 
 Fidl symmetry and grace. 
 Each bore the signs of classic nerve : 
 
 It was a handsome face. 
 
 The Grecian nose, the dark, deep eye. 
 
 The firm, compressed, full lips. 
 His origin did not belie : 
 Patrician toe to tip ! 
 
 The firm-set chin, the raven hair 
 
 That curled about the head. 
 The rounded cheek, the dauntless air : 
 
 The nobleman portrayed. 
 
 The black moustache, so careful' waxed. 
 With chin and cheek else smooth. 
 
 No tithe his handsomeness relaxed, 
 An outraged muse to soothe. 
 
 His looks and features to conform 
 With those black traits within. 
 
 The traits that held the heart, yet warm. 
 In their embrace of sin. — 
 
 CANTO II. 
 
 TlIK DYING DUELLIST. 
 
 SO speaking, lay upon the grass, 
 Beneath a starlit sky. 
 Alone, in a sequestered pass, 
 A manly form to die. 
 
 His costume was a fitting one 
 
 For such a man at death. 
 Whose clay was to behold the sun 
 
 At morn, bereft of breath : 
 
 The neck was bare, as was an arm. 
 To elbow stripped of sleeve — 
 
 You will have guessed that some dread 
 Left him but slight reprieve. — 
 
 The form was clad in snow-white shirt 
 And well cut pantaloon ; 
 
14 
 
 THE INFERNAL COMEDY. 
 
 Some spots betrayed the shocking hurt 
 That brought the end so soon. 
 
 The spots were blood, and clotted gore. 
 
 That flowed the breast adown 
 Shot through beside the bosoni's core; 
 
 A wound of much renown, 
 
 That proved the death of many knights 
 
 And many warriors bold. 
 Sustained in many bloody fights, 
 
 And laid them out so cold. 
 
 The hand, yet nervcful, grimly clutched 
 
 A pistol, whence the ball 
 Was gone, but had no victim touched. 
 
 Nor told of mortal fall ; 
 
 For this was not a scene of crime. 
 
 Of shameful suicide 
 Another ball had fixed the time, 
 
 And stayed the sinful tide 
 
 That marked this person's horrid life ; 
 
 A duel had been fought, 
 And Nemesis the vengeance-rife 
 
 Carouser's end had sought. 
 
 Near by lay coat and hat and cloak 
 
 Left there to lie unclaimed. 
 That ne'er again would bear the yoke 
 
 Of ownership defamed. 
 
 He that had fired the fatal shot, 
 
 Was now far, far away ; 
 The scene of fight had been the spot 
 
 Before the close of day : 
 
 The victim had been left for dead, 
 
 No seconds had been used ; 
 The other duellist had fled 
 
 And would not be accused. 
 
 He'd been a brother, now was not; 
 
 A sister once he'd had ; 
 But misplaced love had been her lot ; 
 
 Her ending had been sad ; 
 
 And he who was to blame for this, 
 
 Lay weltering in his blood ; 
 And now, for the betrayer's kiss, 
 
 He chewed death's bitter end. 
 
 And yet he'd not the lesson learned 
 This issue should have taught ; 
 
 Away from him repentance turned 
 And him damnation wrought. 
 
 So heart and soul and intellect 
 
 May hopelessly debase, 
 So may on shame and sin be wrecked. 
 
 And sink into disgrace, 
 
 As may the finest pearl be lost 
 
 In refuse and in dust — 
 Ah, who can count the fearful cost 
 
 Of o'erindulged-in lust? 
 
 Thus will in endless strain reflect 
 
 The moralist, and wail ; 
 Still he, shot through, so weak, bare-necked, 
 
 At him would laugh and rail : 
 
 Perhaps with right, for happy d been 
 
 The life he chose to lead ; 
 It had been bright what he had seen, 
 
 Before he had to bleed. 
 
 The aches and ills that come along 
 
 With revelry and glee, 
 .-\re borne as necessary wrong. 
 
 And suffered cheerfully. 
 
 He had had sense, and made his choice. 
 
 As he was free to tell : 
 Was he not now to pay the price 
 
 Of it, perhaps with hell ? 
 
 He set his teeth ; but he, as said, 
 
 Was ready, and would pay : 
 E'en if it to perdition led. 
 
 He had not flown away. 
 
 Would you rebuke him for his choice. 
 
 And rate the man a fool ? 
 Raise protest in stentorian voice. 
 
 And chide me for my school? 
 
 Remember we're all more or less 
 
 Sad fools, as oft we tend. 
 So do not lay too great a stress 
 
 On folly as here penned. 
 
 As rampant in a fellow fool 
 
 Who threw his life away. 
 And disobed each golden rule 
 
 That should have been his stay ; 
 
 Who clouded mind and heart and soul ^ 
 
 With fallacy and wrong : 
 Pursue him onward in his role, 
 
 And profit by my song. 
 
 CANTO III. 
 
 AND as he lay, and groaned in pain, 
 And hell and heaven cursed, 
 His wound afire, full hope for ram. 
 To cool his burning thirst. 
 
 There stole a sheen of gentle light 
 
 Adown the raven sky, 
 Athrough the chill and inky night, 
 
 Amidst the night-wind's sigh ; 
 
DARK DEATH. 
 
 15 
 
 And into visicm broke h form 
 
 So fair and fancy free, 
 As lulls inniid the howling >iloriii 
 
 Are welcomed on the sea 
 
 Its brow was like the summer sun 
 
 So brilliant and so bright. 
 That hearts of stone were turned and won, 
 
 Enamored of the sight : 
 
 Its eye was like the full-moon's beam 
 
 So gentle and so pure ; 
 With softness did its glances teem, 
 
 All nature to allure. 
 
 It stepped unto the wounded man 
 With lightest tread and saith. 
 
 Into his ear these words it ran : 
 " Hark thee, my name is Faith. 
 
 Would 1 were thine to learn and love, 
 
 To read the golden joy 
 That waits thy spirit there above. 
 
 Eternal, sans alloy, 
 
 As it was written on my soul 
 
 When given birth and life — 
 Say, ere thy knell of doom shall toll. 
 
 Wilt have me for thy wife? 
 
 I'll love thee well, so very well 
 
 That in this brief delay 
 From life to death, to heaven or hell, 
 
 I'll pave thee yet the way 
 
 That leads to those enchanted realms 
 
 Of everlasting love : 
 A love that lives, and overwhelms 
 
 Far others than the dove. — 
 
 Am I not beautiful and fair'.' 
 
 Can I thee not inspire ''. 
 Wilt not with me those blessings share 
 
 1 bid thee now admire? 
 
 Oh come, be mine, as I'll be thine : 
 
 In vain be it not saith — 
 Wilt thou my image not enshrine ? 
 
 Oh, wilt thou not have Faith f 
 
 I'll still the blood that runs adown 
 
 Thy bosom on its way ; 
 I'll steal thy brow that hateful frown, 
 
 And make thee once more gay: 
 
 I'll prove thee true forever more — 
 
 Oh, barken to my word : 
 In hell below its echoes roar ; 
 
 In heaven, too, it was heard ; 
 
 Ana demons' hate and angels' love 
 
 Await thy nay or aye ; 
 In vale below, in air above 
 
 Impatient 'round they lie : 
 
 Then speak : it is for times to come 
 That human mind would fail 
 
 In ages, less in years, to sum. 
 So boundless is their tale. — 
 
 .See, 1 have lips that kiss as sweet 
 
 As Sin's, and eyes that flash. 
 And arms to wind, and pretty feet ; 
 
 Then be not thou too rash. 
 
 Have Faith ! She'll,*erve thee ever well, 
 
 And grant eternal bliss ; 
 In hell, fell horrors do but swell 
 
 And glaring monsters hiss 
 
 At thee, and raging fires abound 
 
 To torture thee fore'er. 
 For dreadful fright and stunning sound 
 
 EiU fill th' infernal lair." 
 
 The duellist his vision turned 
 
 Upon the lovely maid ; 
 Her with his look he withering spurned, 
 
 And this is what he said : 
 
 " Thou pleadest well : so well that I, 
 
 Were I a common knave, 
 Would gladly lay me down to die. 
 
 And follow thee, thy slave. 
 
 But I, though I have lived in sin. 
 
 Have lived not all in vain. 
 And though I've wild and reckless been. 
 
 Have reaped no little gain : 
 
 The gain of intellect, I mean. 
 
 That knows to sever dross 
 From value : that perception keen 
 
 That never is at loss 
 
 To tell from seeming right the true, 
 
 From glittering dross the gold ; 
 That gift po.ssess so very few. 
 
 They can be easily told. — 
 
 Thy speech is bright, but idle glare : 
 
 The masses 'neath it bask ; 
 With opeii-mouthed wonder stare 
 
 And never stop to ask. 
 
 Thou art an unmaterial ray 
 
 That wakes the sense of sight : 
 At touch, thou fleeest far away 
 
 Tn sorrowful affright. 
 
 Faith? Empty name ! On earth they smile 
 
 At mention of a trust; 
 Though thou shouldst starve and rot therewhile 
 
 They lend but when they must. 
 
 To knowing minds thou art a belle 
 
 That will not flirt, but blush 
 When ogled by some handsome swell. 
 
 But art not worth- a rush ; 
 
 Thou art a pretty butterfly 
 
 When taken in thyself, 
 A creature for the dreamy eye, 
 
 A dazzling, flitting elf ; 
 
i6 
 
 THE INFERNAL COMEDY. 
 
 But thou hast relative;! 1 hate, 
 
 Whom I must wed along — 
 No, no, sweet child, I like thy prate. 
 
 But will not go me wrong. 
 
 There's sister Prayer : confound the air 
 
 Of saintliness she wears ; 
 I'd rather meet the wanton sture 
 
 Of her that shocking swears. 
 
 It soothes my heart, my wicked heart, 
 But heart that loves the right — 
 
 Thou seem'st incredulous ; there dart 
 Black looks from out thy sight. 
 
 Thou canst not understand that when 
 
 Morality is linked 
 With wrong by theologic ken. 
 
 My sympathies arc kuiked ; 
 
 That when are blotted right .-uid wrong 
 
 Into one hideous mass. 
 Then must the burden of my song 
 
 Thy relatives by pass. 
 
 I will not hurt the tender shoots 
 Of love that 'round thee cling, 
 
 Nor sour thee, child, with worldly hoots, 
 Thy frail delight to wring. 
 
 I cannot make me understand — 
 
 I darken as I think. 
 Thou art a thoughtless child, and good ; 
 
 Our natures cannot link. 
 
 Oood-night to thee, a long good-uighi I 
 Good-night, perhaps, fore'er. 
 
 Go, take in peace from hence thy llighl. 
 And leave me to my care." 
 
 He smiled, and closed his fulisnmi 
 And left the region stark. 
 
 While Faith ascended to the skies 
 Above from out the dark. 
 
 eyes. 
 
 CANTO IV. 
 
 THK PEAK OF DEATH 
 
 HOW burned the .gaping bullet wound, 
 How parched became the tongue ; 
 How throbbed his brow till nigh he swooned. 
 How was that bosom wnnig : 
 
 " Oh hasten, Death, to my relief! 
 
 This torment is too great. 
 It drives me mad ! Oh, make it brief; 
 
 Why linger, oh, why wait'/ 
 
 No longer linger, longer wait? 
 Ha ! what was that I said ? 
 
 What did I, with my idle prate. 
 Devolve upon my head ? 
 
 My end? My end from present life, 
 
 From being? By my soul, 
 The thou.?ht is like a keen-edged knife. 
 
 Is like a livid coal ; 
 
 It cuts, it burns my intellect — 
 
 God, it drives me mad ! 
 
 Oh, had I not my virtue wrecked, 
 ■■^nd hastened to the bad 
 
 What say 1 ? Do 1 call on God? 
 
 Haha ! 1 am insane ; 
 My wound that opens o'er the sod 
 
 My blood, 's gone to my brain ! 
 
 'Sdeath, how 1 shake! Away, thou fiend 
 
 Of blackness, of despair ! 
 Wherefrom's this sudden horror gleaned ? 
 
 How every sense dfilh flare ! 
 
 I dying? Dying! what is death? 
 
 The future of ' to be'; 
 The close of life, the last of breath, 
 
 The dread eternity ! 
 
 My palms ooze out their clanuuy fear, 
 
 My brow stands full of drops 
 That rim adown it, and besmear 
 
 It with renewed out-crops." 
 
 He starts, he grasps his streaming hair, 
 
 He gives a hideous yell : 
 He tears his bloody bosom bare ; 
 
 " Help, heaven ! Oh help, hell 1 
 
 I will not die ! I want to live ; 
 
 1 am yet young, yet strong ; 
 The proper remedies will give 
 
 Me yet existence long. 
 
 O God ! O angels fair and pure 1 
 
 Satan I Demons foul ! 
 O, hear me now ye all assure 
 
 Repentance ! ! Round be prowl 
 
 Unfancied terrors, unseen sprites 
 
 That glow with racking fire. 
 Prodigious beasts and monstrous frights 
 
 That me with hell inspire : 
 
 They groan and hiss, they howl and shriek. 
 They flash, and flap, and flare : 
 
 They crawl and creep, with horror reek — 
 'Tis more than I can bear ! 
 
 Avaunt, grim Death ! I am not thine : 
 
 1 am not born to die 
 
 So soon, so fai from aid divine ; 
 In all I've said, I lie ! 
 
 Away ! Oh, help ! Away ! Away I 
 
 Off! Touch me not ! Oh, fly I 
 Sh ! No, not death ! Cursed be the day 
 
 1 met the girl that I 
 
DARK DEATH. 
 
 17 
 
 Have suffered for tliis fatal night 
 With no, not su, with death : 
 
 The rising sun's effulgent light 
 Will find nie yet in br-ath. 
 
 I will not die I Vou hear, not die I 
 
 1 will — I »tust — SHALL livcl 
 
 Live ! l-'earful Death, thou shall nni ii y 
 rile last grains now to sieve 
 
 In with the rest that tell (he talc 
 
 Of hours long in the past. 
 And now with horror me regale — 
 
 Hold on. they go too fast ! 
 
 Hold on. 1 say! 1 will not die! 
 
 Hold ! Hast thou me not heard ? 
 O Death !" — A shriek. Thu»night-winds 
 
 They had not heard a w..rd. 
 
 The foam stands out upon his mouth. 
 
 'J'he eyes far out protrude : 
 The cross stands out upon the south 
 With pointedness imbued. 
 
 He sees it not ; his mind is blank ; 
 
 The terror was too much : 
 Deep into every fibre sank 
 
 Of icy death the touch. 
 
 Hut yet it throbbed, that worried heart, 
 Though throbbed now wild, now low ; 
 
 It had received fore'er its dart ; 
 Soon would it cease to go. — 
 
 A nameless thing of hideous mien 
 
 Now hovered o'er the man ; 
 A shudder seized him, and a keen, 
 
 Quick tremor through him ran. 
 
 It settled on the quiet form. 
 
 It grasped it by the throat; 
 It reveled in the blood still warm, 
 
 And o'er it seemed to gloat. 
 
 Then swelled the sleeper's simken face, 
 
 Then stole the glassy eyes 
 Frimi oiU their sockets, and apace 
 
 The horror seemed to rise. 
 
 Like whip-cords stood his veins then out. 
 
 The smothered bosom rose : 
 The anguished lips repressed a shout, 
 
 .'\nd higher grew his woes. 
 
 The mind appeared to lose its hold 
 
 On reason, and to swell 
 With fear and frightful awe untold, 
 
 Wrapj;ed in some horrid spell ; 
 
 The perspiration stood like dew 
 
 Upon the clammy brow. 
 And every fibre throbbed anew 
 
 Its terror to avow ; 
 
 The working lips twitched nervously, 
 Distorted grew his face ; 
 
 He rolled in shocking agony 
 That over him did chase. 
 
 He started up. he oped his eyes. 
 
 He saw the nameless Thing ; 
 Upon his feet he tried to rise, 
 
 .\nd from him far it fling. 
 
 Then broke from out his livid lips 
 
 A yell so fierce, so loud ; 
 But tighter him the object grijjs , 
 
 Abjectly down he cowed, 
 
 Half strangled, nearly dead with fright, 
 
 .\shake in every limb, 
 Full loathing at the fearful sight 
 
 Before him there so grim : 
 
 His hair stands on its startled ends. 
 
 His coimtenance now pales, 
 Kach feature with despair distends 
 
 And 'fore its torment quails. 
 
 Such high-strting and atrocious pain 
 As through this man did swell. 
 
 Was never elsewhere known again. 
 Not e'en in Dante's hell : 
 
 He shrieked, he foamed, he tore his hail 
 He beat his woimded breast. 
 
 He shivered at the nameless glare 
 Of those eyes' foulsome zest. 
 
 And then he sank exhausted back. 
 
 Devoid of every breath. 
 There floated through the dismal black : 
 
 " I am the Fear of Death !" 
 
 The Thing was gone, the struggle o'er ; 
 
 The sufferer grew more calm ; 
 A brighter look the features wore, 
 
 As if a soothing balm 
 
 Were poured upon the troubled soul 
 
 And on the beating heart ; 
 The agony had reached its goal. 
 
 The fright had done its part. 
 
 To such fell horror was the prey 
 
 The man who on the sod 
 Here at the door of death now lay 
 
 Unmindful of his God. 
 
 So dies the man whose total life 
 Was one profane, foul breath ; 
 
 So ends the wicked, sinful strife 
 In shocking fear of death I 
 
 CANTO V. 
 
 REMORSE. 
 
 A 
 
 ND as this man was lying there, 
 A prey to torture fell, 
 
/S 
 
 THE INFERNAL CO MED V. 
 
 A peal of thunder through the air 
 Resounded like a knell 
 
 That calls a guilty soul away 
 
 To expiate in woe 
 Eternally the yesterday, — 
 
 As which the past we know, — 
 
 And followed by a lightning flash 
 'I'hat dazzled sense and eye — 
 
 The distant waters roaring splash. 
 The tempest rumbles by ; 
 
 A thousand terrors seem afloat 
 To goad the crazing brain, 
 
 And rampant horrors seem to gloal. 
 And taunt the suffering swain. 
 
 The terrors grow, the horrors rise, 
 
 The pandemonium swells, 
 The air is filled with shocking cries, 
 
 The heart with l)urning hells. 
 
 Athrough the forest bursts a form. 
 
 Half borne upon the wind, 
 Outriding thiuider, flash and storm. 
 
 And by the night bedinned. 
 
 It starts at sight of blood and man. 
 Stops short, and seems to quail : 
 With anxious eyes be.gins to scan 
 - The features stark and jiale 
 
 It hears the labored breaths and groa 
 It feels the throbbing pulse : 
 
 It sees the quiver-covered bones 
 In agony convulse : 
 
 It throws itself upon bis breast 
 
 In wild, disordered state. 
 It cries in tones of anguished zest ; 
 
 " O Gnd. is it too late?" 
 
 It was a supple female form, 
 
 It was a woman fair 
 That cried the words above the -.t.irm 
 
 That cried them out in air. 
 
 As livid as the storm she looked. 
 
 As black ner flowing hair 
 .A.S was, in howling passes nooked. 
 
 The night-enceinte, cold air. 
 
 The breast, so snowy white, was bare 
 Aside the thin shroud blown. 
 
 But wanton eyes not lingered there 
 Where bloody spots were shown : 
 
 It seemed as though, in fits of rage. 
 She had abraised the skin, 
 
 And deeply led her nails to wage 
 Into the flesh within : 
 
 That tortured, bleeding breast arose 
 And fell, as void of breath, 
 
 .•\nd filled instead with bitter throes 
 That spoke of nigliing death. 
 
 She panted as she bent o'er him, 
 
 The slowly dying swain, ' 
 And bit her lip in effort grim 
 
 From sobbing to abstain. 
 
 And yet her eyes were streaming wet, 
 
 Suffused with tear on tear ; 
 (In features wan these, mingling met, 
 
 A livid face to blear 
 
 The noble brow was cracked with woe. 
 The lips convulsed with pain, 
 
 The chin atremble, cheeks aglow ; 
 She mastered them in vain. 
 
 She wrapped her arms about the youth. 
 
 She kissed his pallid lip 
 .\s iffto drink a soothing truth 
 
 Where sin was wont to dip. 
 
 She said in accents quivering, low, 
 
 They rang so piteously : 
 " Thou hast permitted Faith to go ; 
 
 Wilt love her mother — me? 
 
 I watched o'er thee when thou wert born, 
 \nd followed thee through life. 
 
 With tenderest affection torn. 
 And wished to be thy wife. 
 
 liut thou neglectedst my attempt 
 
 To win the merest glance ; 
 Well wast thou e'er from me exempt ; 
 
 I finiled, thee to entrance. 
 
 Thou fledst my long and vain pursuit 
 
 To touch thy stony heart, 
 .■\nd every step didst thou disimte 
 
 I took to act my art. 
 
 I had a rival everywhere 
 
 That every month was new ; 
 Thou laidst beside the world's most fair 
 
 On roses in the dew, 
 
 .And liadst no word, no eyes for me 
 
 Who followed day by day, 
 Kssaying, yet to wrest from thee 
 
 Thy smile, thy love for aye. 
 
 I knew that still the lime would conn- 
 When I could claim the man 
 
 For whom, through all his living's hum. 
 So steadfastly I ran. 
 
 That time has come, that time is here; 
 
 Oh say now, am I thine? 
 I see thy mind to core so clear 
 
 As if it were the mine. 
 
 The last love thou hast had im earth 
 
 Thou bleed'st now to atone. 
 And ne'er again will mortal mirth 
 
 Thy pain and woe dethrone. 
 
 Then say thon'lt wed me on the spot. 
 That thou return'st my love; 
 
DARK DEATH. 
 
 19 
 
 Believe, it will erase thi; blot 
 Against thy name, above." 
 
 She spoke lo him, she clung to him. 
 
 She grasped the clammy hand, 
 And listened, as were wrung from him 
 
 These words, to understand : 
 
 ""['is true, I fled from thee where'er 
 
 In life we chanced to meet ; 
 Why should I've clogged with tearful care 
 
 My pleasure-feathered feet '.' 
 
 I liked no eyes that were inflamed. 
 Nor ravished, bloody breasts, 
 
 Nor hair disheveled, features maimed 
 With woe and long unrests. 
 
 If 1 did not admire the child, 
 
 I like the mother less ; 
 By Faith I might have been beguiled : 
 
 Thy presence is distress !" 
 
 He struggled hard to shake her off. 
 And stretched each wincing wound ; 
 • She choked adown his withering scoff 
 And clasped him till he swooned. 
 
 She grasped from out of air a sword. 
 
 And screamed till she was hoarse : 
 " Of all thy mistresses adored, 
 
 The last one is Remorse !" 
 
 He 'woke, and stared her in the face 
 
 Like one who is at bay 
 At end of some prolonged, hot chase : 
 
 He cried aloud : "Away!" 
 
 But she, in bloody contact, pressed, 
 
 Aglow with ardent heat, 
 Herself upon his heaving chest 
 
 And plumed the latent heat. 
 
 She held him as if thence fore'er 
 
 Her victim to restrain. 
 As if his soul's remotest lair 
 
 T(j enter and to gain ; 
 
 She held him till for breath he gasped. 
 
 Until he was undone; 
 She held him till the rattle rasped 
 
 His throat, and he was won 
 
 Beycmd defiance and defence. 
 
 And ne'er to be reclaimed ; 
 Now would the dreadful scene begin 
 
 For which Remorse was famed. 
 
 He was her own, to be beset 
 
 By terrors that she willed ; 
 And so, each eye a flaming threat. 
 
 His blood with pain .she stilled. 
 
 She tortured him she had adored. 
 
 She struck him brutal blows. 
 His wounds with fiendish fingers gored ; 
 
 And yet the horror 'rose ; 
 
 She caught him by the swelling throat 
 Ane dashed him on the ground, 
 
 His head with knotted cudgel smote 
 That dull she heard resound ; 
 
 She tore his skin in dripping strips 
 
 From off the quivering flesh. 
 She beat him raw with willow whips 
 
 KnCi oped each wound afresh ; 
 
 She pierced him with her reeking blade. 
 And ripped him out his eyes ; 
 
 She dragged him through the rocky glade 
 With mad, e.xidtant cries ; 
 
 She tnjd him under wantcn feet. 
 And cursed him to the soul ; 
 
 She trampled, thrust, and dragged , 
 K'en t(j the bitter goal ; 
 
 id beat 
 
 She biu'ned him with a flaming torch 
 Which sudden she produced. 
 
 That every fibre felt the scorch 
 The greedy fire adduced ; 
 
 She tore the hair in handfuU nut 
 And left him not a shred 
 
 Of vestment, skin not put to rout 
 She left him there for dead ! — 
 
 KnA heV He could not even swoon. 
 
 The pain was so intense : 
 How death then would have been a boon. 
 
 The torture so immense. 
 
 He tried lo scream, but h.id no tongue 
 
 Wherewith to aid the voice ; 
 I lie fury had it quivering wnnig 
 
 From him, and left no choice. 
 
 I)efence iiup(issible. so weak, 
 
 .So tortiued and so worn ; 
 And nothing but a smothered shriek 
 
 From bleeding throat was torn. 
 
 She grasped him by the swollen arm 
 And dragged him to the brink 
 
 Of an abyss in dire alarm, 
 Into its depths to sink. 
 
 Through clouds and shrubs and raven mis 
 
 Her victim, and to end 
 The shocking scene with ruthless fisl. 
 
 And death and night to blend. 
 
 The duellist an effort made 
 
 The fury to resist. 
 But in that frame no power was laid 
 
 That he could now enlist. 
 
 She pushed him to the very verge 
 With mien and gesture rough. 
 
 And — in the bush there was a surge ; 
 A voice cried out : " Enough !" 
 
 And into murky vision stepped 
 X bri.ulit, an.aelic form ; 
 
THE INFERNAL COMEDY. 
 
 Remorse fell back : away she swept 
 Oa pinions of the storm. 
 
 CANTO VI. 
 
 THE vision hovered o'er the swain. 
 And healed him of his ills : 
 Bent o'er, and cured him of his pain ; 
 Removed his anguished chills. 
 
 A thunderclap convulsed the air. 
 
 And every echo woke ; 
 And by the fitful lightnings' glare. 
 
 The angel to him spoke : 
 
 " If thou hast nothing else deserved, 
 
 I know a maiden fair 
 Who never from thy love has swerved. 
 
 And holds thee in her care. 
 
 The maid is Pity, pure and sweet ; 
 
 She loves thee to the end : 
 The feelings that from her thee greet, 
 
 No passion can transcend. 
 
 Thou hast rejected purity ; 
 
 Thine was a life of sin ; 
 The soothing balm of honesty 
 
 Thou ne'er hast felt within ; 
 
 Thou wast not shone on by the sun : 
 Those hours thou slept'st away ; 
 
 With eve thy day was but begun. 
 And that was spent in play 
 
 With wanton women, song and wine. 
 
 With recklessness and vice; 
 And therefore must thou now repine. 
 
 And pay the final price. 
 
 'Tis but with those like thee Remorse 
 
 Enacts the frightful scene 
 Thou hast outlived this night, perforce, 
 
 In yonder murky green. 
 
 'Tis but with those like thee that frights 
 
 Like awful Fear of Death, 
 Are acted on these dismal sites 
 
 Of horror and choked breath. 
 
 Ah mortal, many are the souls 
 
 I meet upon my path, 
 I lead to their respective goals. 
 
 And save from furies' wrath. 
 
 For know that I am Azrael, 
 The angel of the Lord, 
 
 And stationed in this fatal dell 
 With keen and ready sword 
 
 'J'o sever flesh from mortal breath, 
 
 And body from the soul, 
 To give o'er life to silent death. 
 
 And each decease tu toll. 
 
 Von rocky path leads heavenward. 
 
 To the eternal life. 
 Where naught but joys the steps retard 
 
 And ends the mortal strife. 
 
 But downward there leads on the way 
 
 E'en to the very gates 
 Of realms beneath the fearful sway 
 
 Of Satan : and the Fates 
 
 Cannot recall the wanderer when 
 That path has once been trod ; 
 
 Beyond the reach of earthly ken 
 The wretched slave must prod. 
 
 I meet with all who come this way 
 
 To pay their final due, 
 Release them from their flesh, and say 
 
 What pathway to pursue. 
 
 Yon river, coursing through the meads 
 
 By blooming flower beds, 
 Past softly rustling, swaying reeds, 
 
 Its sparkling water sheds 
 
 Through miles of borderland of earth 
 And tracts of blissful realms, 
 
 Dividing from thy sod of birth 
 The shore that overwhelms 
 
 The weary traveler with delight. 
 
 The tired feet with rest. 
 The dimming eyes with angel-sight. 
 
 And bids the soul be blessed. 
 
 It is the Jordan flowing on. 
 
 Dividing life from death ; 
 Here shattered forms and faces wan 
 
 Revive beneath its breath. 
 
 And yonder sluggish stream below 
 That glides so dark and fast. 
 
 With treacherous whirl and undertow 
 The rocky banks apast — 
 
 Thou knowest as the fatal Styx, 
 Placed there with rigid lines. 
 
 The realms infernal e'er to fix 
 Within their dark confines. 
 
 That river, mortal, is for thee 
 
 To cross upon this night ; 
 Below, thou canst old Charon see 
 
 To bear thee from my sight. 
 
 If thou hast aught, before my sword 
 
 Shall sever thee from life, 
 To say, then speak at once the word, 
 
 F'or now the time is rife," 
 
DARK DEATH. 
 
 The angel paused. The youth replied : 
 
 " Naught but to say good-bye." 
 Then Azrael raised his sword, and sighed : 
 
 " Prepare thee, then, to die !" 
 
 The youth staid firm, the sword flashed through 
 
 His frame, but made no woiuid ; 
 The face relaxed its life-like hue 
 
 As though he had but swooned. 
 
 The soul, released, sped to the stream 
 Below, and Charon bore 
 
 Within his craft the doomed, in dream, 
 Unto the other shore. 
 
 And Azrael gazed with sorrowed eye 
 As he was rowed from sight, 
 
 Then once more heaved a heavy sigh 
 And vanished in the night. 
 
 The morrow's sun shone on a form 
 
 Devoid of life and breath, 
 Deceased in horror, night and storm. 
 
 Forever hushed in death. 
 
 :the end of dakk death. 
 
aS^BOOK 
 
 CANTO I. 
 
 THK DREAM OF HIU,!,. 
 
 ONWARD into gloom unuttered 
 Sped a shadowy, daring soul 
 Toward the fearful, night-enfluttered 
 Human folly's ultimate goal, — 
 
 Far behind him Charon sadly 
 Paddling to the mundane shore 
 
 Through the torrents seething madly 
 'Neath the pressure of the oar, — 
 
 Sped, with every fibre throbbing. 
 Sped, with.every sense awake, 
 
 Through the wind and weather sobbing 
 On the wildland, in the brake ; 
 
 Bursting with a new existence. 
 With a bulging heart and soul ; 
 
 Giving o'er without resistance 
 To the fever of the whole. 
 
 Sense and reason seemed expanded, 
 
 Every doubtful issue clear, 
 Ignorance and error stranded ; 
 
 Not a faculty was blear. 
 
 Not a vestige of the image 
 He had born as mortal man 
 
 Had been altered in the scrimmage 
 With his death while 'neath its ban. 
 
 But an undefined, grand feeling 
 Held possession of his mind. 
 
 Pictures unto him revealing 
 
 Which in viewing struck him blind 
 
 With their lustrous, weird proportion. 
 Pompous and appalling sense. 
 
 Not a feature an abortion. 
 Not a mien a vain pretense. 
 
 Then and there he paused to ponder 
 On the paltry earthly state; 
 
 Idle, futile all was yonder; 
 Here so wondrously elate. 
 
 There a fleeting pleasure thrilled him, 
 Seemed the compass of his life ; 
 
 Here a mammoth grandeur filled him 
 Which bore no compare to strife 
 
 As experienced 'in the portals 
 E'en of most abandoned glee 
 
 There among his fellow mortals 
 In their daily vanity. 
 
 Here his bosom 'rose, and stumbled ' 
 'Neath the weight of its design. 
 
 And his dreams defiant crumbled 
 Into passiveness condign. 
 
 Here stood naked human folly 
 'Reft of all its spurious glare, 
 
 And an earnest melancholy 
 Laid its leprous bosom bare. 
 
 Onward sped he, nor knew whither. 
 Yet the soul desired no rest ; 
 
 On the winds he winged on thither 
 To the gates of woe, to test. 
 
 In the combat with all evil, 
 Who would in the arts excel. 
 
 Who would prove the greater devil 
 Who would reign down there in hell. 
 
 All this darkness had no terrors 
 For this staunch and dogged heart. 
 
 This acumen saw no errors 
 In the reckoning of his part ; 
 
 Here he felt domesticated, 
 
 In these grim and dear abodes. 
 
 Here his fancy was elated. 
 In these hellish antipodes; 
 
 Here his sympathies were soothed 
 With the dawn that was at hand, 
 
 Here his fiercest passions smoothed 
 Into contemplatiims bland : 
 
 Every syllable he'd boasted 
 He would here substantiate. 
 
 Every hellish thought he'd toasted 
 He would here with glee narrate. 
 
 In the night-winds he heard flutter 
 Winged shapes that fanned his brow ; 
 
 Strange dictations heard them mutter, 
 Their allegiance to avow : 
 
 " Though the prophecy should kill us. 
 Thou art he whom we await ; 
 
 Hail, all hail too thee, Armillus ! 
 We will share thy glorious fate 1" 
 
THE INFERNAL REALMS. 
 
 And he sped on, most astounded 
 At that strange and foreign name : 
 
 Haw his heart with grandeur bounded 
 As lie read in it his fame. 
 
 HcArniiUus? Gnd in heaven 1 
 
 Was that his immortal state'; 
 In his wildest fancies even, 
 
 He had never felt so great. 
 
 Did he hear aright the menticmV 
 
 Was 't not uttered to delude? 
 Was it history's intention 
 
 That he should he thus imliued V 
 
 Still they whispered : " Thou shall fill us 
 
 With the glories of the past; 
 Hail, all hail to thee, ArmiUus ! 
 
 Thy design is nearing fast. 
 
 Proudest natures wilt thou humble. 
 
 Greatest powers wilt thou fell, 
 Kmpires 'neath thy sword will crumble ; 
 
 Hail thee, thou hast chosen well." — 
 
 "Oh," he cried, with rapture boiling, 
 " How I thank ye, shades of night : 
 
 I have not in vain been toiling, 
 I have set my plans aright. 
 
 Though my life did seem all madness. 
 
 Though I ended terribly, 
 I awaken now to gladness 
 
 On the brink of victory. 
 
 Though the roadway led through passions. 
 Led through vice and sin and shame, 
 
 Led through most adulterous fashions. 
 Led through many a desperate game. 
 
 Mill the moral did not falter 
 
 I'hrough the wrecks of seeming wrong ; 
 Now, appearances will alter ; 
 
 All will not seem error long. 
 
 Through mad mazes of delusion 
 
 Have I waded night and day. 
 Through thick webs of wild confusion 
 
 Have I cut my restless way 
 
 Into these infernal regions,- 
 
 To be hailed supremest king 
 By IVIephisto's clouded legions 
 
 Fluttering 'round on unseen wing. 
 
 Even now methinks I issue 
 
 Into the infernal scene; 
 IJghtei grows the murky tissue ; 
 , Brighter visions come between." 
 
 Here he faltered, and descended 
 To the ground, and sank adown ; 
 
 Here the strain prophetic ended ; 
 Misty was the outlook grown. 
 
 Into slumber's sweet dominion 
 Sank the high' e.xalted soul ; 
 
 On a dream's light, airy pinion 
 Floated he unto the goal, 
 
 Reached he the terrific regions 
 Which precede the gates of hell. 
 
 Where dark powers" hideous legions 
 Hurst into one fearful yell 
 
 As he crossed the bridge connecting 
 Shore with shore o'er the abyss 
 
 Of foul terrors, soul affecting 
 With the horror of their hiss. 
 
 Till he reached the gates, where frightful 
 
 Visions of unwombing sin 
 Made the shocking view unsightful. 
 
 And a sense-confounding din 
 
 'Woke the echoes of the mountains 
 
 Bounding the abode of fire 
 With its flames and scorching fountains 
 
 Seething high and ever higher. 
 
 At the gates infernal, etching 
 
 Deep into the granite crown 
 O'er it, stood a figure sketching 
 
 Out a maxim of renown : 
 
 ' ' Lasciate ogni speranza , 
 
 Voi che entrate" Aaw' : 
 And the dreamy soul the stanza 
 
 Incomplete, repeated low'. 
 
 " What a sentiment for ante- 
 Chamber decoration," he 
 
 Said reflective, "gave us Dante 
 For this fiendish privacy. 
 
 Ni'W that I look on the features 
 Of this cruelly sentenced man, 
 
 From the earth's impotent creatures 
 I this face remember can. 
 
 No, I cannot be mistaken ; 
 
 This is not a hellish elf; 
 'Tis the exiled and forsaken , 
 
 Poet Dante, aye, himself! 
 
 What a wretched occupation 
 
 For the grim eternity ; 
 How unique an illustration 
 
 Of the doom of poesy !" 
 
 Then with true Miltonic thunder 
 Crashed th' infernal gates ajar. 
 
 And disclosed the hellish wonder, 
 What the fiery regions are. 
 
 O'er the threshold stepped our hero 
 
 Into the Satanic realm 
 Where the Evil One, a Nero, 
 
 Sat in state, to overwhelm 
 
 Comers with his fearful splendor 
 There inmidst the frightful gloom, 
 
 For their sins account to render, 
 And to listen to their doom. 
 
H 
 
 THE INFERNAL COMEDY. 
 
 . Shieking on their hinge, behind him 
 
 Closed the portals ponderously ; 
 Helpless and alone we find him 
 With the hideous majesty. 
 
 For a moment but he trembled : 
 Then he nerved himself to see, 
 
 His misgivings well dissembled 
 In a grave placidity. 
 
 Satan smiled a welcome to him 
 Which revulsed him to the core 
 
 And served well nigh to unto him 
 But he held himself and bore 
 
 Without flinching what portended 
 Lay in that sinister glance ; 
 
 With his courage it was blended, 
 As design is mixed with chance. 
 
 .AH his expectations golden 
 Were at sight at once dispelled ; 
 
 Ne'er had he before beholden 
 
 Such grim fact from fancy shelled : 
 
 Where he'd thought a crimson curtain. 
 Was a rugged, frowning rock ; 
 
 Where of art he'd been so certain. 
 He beheld a naked block ; 
 
 Where a splendid hall he'd looked for. 
 He but saw a gloomy cave ; 
 
 And where life he here had booked fur, 
 Lit he on a silent grave ; 
 
 Where he'd dreamt of royal riches, 
 Gazed he in the face of want ; 
 
 And the figure-studded niches 
 Each became a gloomy haunt ; 
 
 Where he had seen but high revel. 
 Lamentation gtruck his ear ; 
 
 And where he'd ne'er augured evil, 
 Saw he shrinking, ghastly fear. 
 
 Roastiiig souls, in livid ember. 
 Shrieked aloud in awful pain ; 
 
 Wretches viewed he here dismember 
 Till the sight drove him insane. 
 
 Here and there were dread abysses 
 Where no bottom he could see. 
 
 Whence there issued groans and hisses. 
 Cries of woe and misery. 
 
 Fitful glealmed the flames uprising 
 From each ever burning pyre. 
 
 On the walls strange shades devising ; 
 All was torture, lurid fire. 
 
 Imps and demons noiseless flittered 
 Through the terrible domain ; 
 
 Horribly their glances glittered : 
 Everywhere the same weird strain. 
 
 In the distances were flaming 
 Lakes of restless' tossing flare, 
 
 On them hideous beasts exclaiming 
 In the midst of all the glare. 
 
 Presently the sovereign beckoned 
 
 To Armillus to approach, 
 And the new arrival reckoned 
 
 On his end, but no reproach 
 
 Issued from the lips infernal 
 
 Of the fallen Lucifer ; 
 Rather was his look paternal. 
 
 And his smiles less dreadful were. 
 
 ■' Welcome, stranger," he then uttered 
 " In our stark and drear abode." 
 
 And our hero's heart him fluttered 
 .As he slowly thither strode. 
 
 " We can but receive in sadness, 
 For our smiles can cause but tears. 
 
 And our home's the haunt of madness, 
 Endless drudgery and fears. 
 
 We would fain receive thee, sinner, 
 
 As a brother here below. 
 And proclaim thee as a winner 
 
 In the strife. Alas, we show 
 
 Thee a different' hued reception. 
 Manifest in gloom and fire : 
 
 Stranger, thou hast lived deceptiun. 
 Thee awaits eternal ire. 
 
 I am weary of the terror 
 I must cause to such as thee, 
 
 And too late I see my error ; 
 Once I lived in sanctity. 
 
 But I now endure repentance 
 Such as mortal never knew. 
 
 And I here eke out my sentence, 
 I, and all my hellish crew. 
 
 I can never hope for mercy ; 
 
 Hope not thou, for 'tis in vain'; 
 He who comes here must our curse he 
 
 Suffer in a like sad strain. 
 
 Hope stops short at Satan's portals; 
 
 We have left it at all behind ; 
 So will ye, unhappy mortals. 
 
 Here it ever banished find. 
 
 Sought ye pleasure in dominions 
 
 Consecrated but to woe ? 
 Then have I on your opinions 
 
 Disappointment to bestow. 
 
 Here prepare to writhe and tremble. 
 Curse the hour that gave ye birth. 
 
 And to wish ye could assemble 
 Once more on your mother earth 
 
 To live o'er again existence 
 As ye would when then ye die. 
 
 And had struggled with persistence 
 'Gainst all sin and vice and lie. 
 
THE INFERNAL REALMS. 
 
 25 
 
 Here in these aluulcs of peiuuice. 
 With their horror, with their gloom, 
 
 Are fore'er ye bound us tenants; 
 ReaHze what is your doom. 
 
 Thou art damned ! Dost know the meaning 
 Of that most portentious word ? 
 
 Find it in those victims screaming, 
 Find it from their woes inferred. 
 
 Tremble, mortal ! It approaches 
 Now, the hour of racking pain ; 
 
 Heep thyself with the reproches 
 
 Thou wouldst cry in ceaseless strain 
 
 Out of me, for here the harvest 
 Wilt thou reap of self-sown sin ; 
 
 Here for sympathy thou starvest. 
 Maledictions drowned in din. 
 
 Seize him, demons ! Let his sentenee 
 
 Be upon his luckless head ! 
 He has spurned away repentance : 
 
 Let him now with hell be wed !" 
 
 And a thousand hands outstretched 
 To obey their king's command. 
 
 And their latest victim wretched 
 With his frightful doom to brand. 
 
 They already had him lifted 
 
 Through the nearest scorching flame. 
 And the depths of pain he sifted 
 
 As the sheets enwrapped his frame. 
 
 Higher waxed the torturous feeling. 
 Till he shrieked aloud, and swooned — 
 
 He awoke ! Large drops were stealing 
 Down his brows, from dread fear primed. 
 
 It was over, and his senses 
 
 One by one to him returned, 
 Like the dawn at morn commences 
 
 When the drowsy night is spurned. 
 
 Was the dream a faithful vision? 
 
 Was it but a hideous lie? 
 Had he made a wrong decision? 
 
 Thus the answer in a sigh 
 
 Came to him then, unseen wafted 
 On the wind : "Arise, avaunt ! 
 
 What in dream thou hast seen drafted. 
 Is not really Satan's haunt. 
 
 I who speak thus, am thy reason ; 
 
 What thou hearest, is not voice ; 
 Thy resolves have been in season : 
 
 Thou hast well revealed thy choice. 
 
 Go in peace, and fear no danger ; 
 
 Sooji will all appear thee light. 
 For as yet thou art a stranger 
 
 In this dark and unknown night." 
 
 And Armillus, heart aflutter. 
 Fearlessly his way pursued ; 
 
 To his reason tlianks did mutter, 
 With a sense of glee imbued. 
 
 CANTO II. 
 
 THE REALITY FORESHADOWED. 
 
 THROUGH the night and desert sallied 
 Bold the wanderer on his way. 
 Wondering why the morning dallied 
 To outbreak in jocimd day. 
 
 All was darkness ; not a shimmer 
 
 Fell froni the relentless sky ; 
 Not a star there was to glimmer ; 
 
 Idle winds but spent a sigh. 
 
 Whether there were heavens o'er him. 
 Or but some gaunt cavern's dome, 
 
 Not a sign the realty bore him. 
 Nothing traced an epitome 
 
 Of the truth these naked regions 
 
 Buried 'neath their sable veil. 
 To reveal th' infernal legions 
 
 He imagined in their pale. 
 
 Hands outstretched to grasp at bushes, 
 
 Only grasped at empty air; 
 Onward our Armillus pushes, 
 
 Only on, nor knowing where. 
 
 Not a patch of verdure ; rubble 
 
 Only met the fleeing foot. 
 Not e'en stumbling over stubble 
 
 Howsomever he it put: 
 
 Only rock and stone and sandhills — 
 Was their ever tract so drear? 
 
 Not a sound, in frequent standstills. 
 Was there to attract the ear, 
 
 But that everlastihg sighing 
 
 Of the lazily floating wind ; 
 It was even still more trying 
 
 Than the death he'd lett behind. 
 
 Where the end to these mysterious 
 Wastes to look for, he knew not ; 
 
 His reflections grew more serious 
 As they dwelt upon his lot ; 
 
 Was all hell thus ink'y clouded. 
 
 Veiled forever from all sight. 
 Lost in gloom, eternal' shrouded 
 
 From the far-off realms of light ? 
 
 Was no incident or danger 
 
 To relieve the monotone? 
 And was he, unhappy stranger, 
 
 To be left fore'er alone? 
 
26 
 
 THE INFERNAL CO MED V. 
 
 Where the prophesy he'd hearkened 
 
 I'o, as he had entered here? 
 He but saw the prospect darkened 
 
 Still more deep, and much more drear. 
 
 Where was hell ? Was Satan routed ? 
 
 Or had the rebellious foe 
 Of his God for mercy shouted, 
 
 And attained the saintly glow 
 
 Once again that had been lost him 
 When he sinned so woefully, 
 
 That had so much torture cost him ; 
 And regained his sanctity? 
 
 Was no imp or elf or demon 
 There to be Armillus' guide : 
 
 Him, they called to the regimen 
 Of this tainted nether side ? 
 
 Was't his doom to end in anguish 
 In this barren, dark domain, 
 
 In eternity to languish, 
 
 Hope cast off, distract, insane? 
 
 Was't his fate to roam here aimless. 
 
 In all seasons, at all times. 
 To but furnish weary, shameless 
 
 Plaint and misery for these rhymes, 
 
 Vain conjecture, idle queries. 
 
 Endless woe and fresh wept tears. 
 
 Where high horror struggling serries 
 Into moments ages' fears ? 
 
 " Be accursed, ye lying prophets ! 
 
 I see neither throne nor hell ! 
 Nor e'en that extent of Tophets 
 
 Earthly priests did me fortell ; 
 
 Moon-mad monks they were, excessive 
 
 Both in lust anu ignorance : 
 Where are your domains expressive 
 
 Of the last, infernal dance 
 
 Sinners take e'er they go under, 
 Overcome with scorching fire ; 
 
 Would, ye ministers of blunder. 
 Ye were here to feel my ire ! 
 
 Vet there must be some solution 
 
 To this knotty mystery ; 
 Let me have the execution 
 
 Of my work of victory." 
 
 Thus he cried. And e'er the bitter 
 Speech had died upon the night. 
 
 Thought he to discern the flitter. 
 In the distance of a light, 
 
 V'accilating and uncertain ; 
 
 Yet it tore a welcomed rent 
 Into the infernal curtain. 
 
 Meeting his presentiment. 
 
 What was he to see? The devil. 
 Coming to receive a guest ? 
 
 Did the vision augur evil? 
 Was it some chimeric jest ? 
 
 Not a phantom, for the vision 
 
 Near and ever nearer came ; 
 And he paused with indecision : 
 
 Should he stand, or flee in shame? 
 
 Flee? For what? For whom? Could terror 
 
 Rise to more appalling heights 
 Than he'd passed through? Nay, no error 
 
 Could there be in future sights 
 
 To face boldly. With defiance 
 He would see what was at hand 
 
 Now, and with astute reliance 
 On his courage, keep his stand. 
 
 Hell be praised ! At last the mystery 
 Stood a chance of being solved. 
 
 And this most infernal history 
 In amazing plots involved. 
 
 He was to behold a devil : 
 
 What a thought to contemplate ! 
 
 How much more, than all the revel 
 Earthly, to anticipate ! 
 
 On he came ; the gleam grew brighter 
 
 Till 'twas lost within it.self ; 
 The surroundings all grew lighter : 
 
 Well, how looks the hellish elf? 
 
 In amaze' Armillus started 
 
 At the unexpected sight. 
 At the figure which there darted 
 
 Out of the infernal. night. 
 
 Here at sea was all acumen, 
 
 Here his reason stopped right short ; 
 
 By the gods, the imp was human ! 
 What meant this Satanic sport ? 
 
 ' Twas a man, in plain attire. 
 
 Such as there is worn on earth. 
 Venerable, reverend sire. 
 
 Quite some years removed from birth. 
 
 In one hand he held the bridle 
 
 Of a fine and prancing mare ; 
 In the rear, a fellow idle 
 
 Followed, with an ill-bred air : 
 
 'Twas a swain with lantern swinging 
 
 To illuminate the road 
 As they, hoof and footfall ringing. 
 
 The o'er-rubbled groiuid bestrode. 
 
 Suddenly the small procession 
 Paused, as the old master's sight. 
 
 Practiced in its dark profession. 
 On Armillus did alight ; 
 
 And the noble beast beside him 
 Seemed to sight the stranger too : 
 
 With a welcoming manner eyed him — 
 (live the devil's mare her due ! 
 
THE INFERNAL REALMS. 
 
 21 
 
 And Annilhis ? Was astounded ! 
 
 Nay, as if by thunder struck ; 
 This result seemed most unfounded 
 
 He had just now run amuck. 
 
 Was he waking? Was lie dreaming? 
 
 Was this earth, or was it hell? 
 This small group he stood there seeming 
 
 To have known before, and well. 
 
 He had often seen in picture 
 Such a group ; and too, in life. 
 
 With no hell to place a stricture 
 On his comprehensions rife. 
 
 Like a flash he caught the meaning 
 
 Of it all, and blurted out : 
 " This comes of my constant weening 
 
 Of mad fancy, reckless doubt. 
 
 I went out to fight a duel. 
 
 Fell asleep, and passed athrough 
 
 Tortures the most gaunt and cruel. 
 Horror passing in review. 
 
 I awoke, and thought the living 
 
 To have left me far behind. 
 Straying 'round, and foolish' giving 
 
 Rein unto my feverish mind. 
 
 These I thought to be infernal 
 Deserts, part of Satan's state. 
 
 While still on the earth maternal 
 1 am roving at this rate. 
 
 What a terrible delusion : 
 
 By the stars, I thought this hell ! 
 
 Region of profound confusion. 
 Thou, Armiilus, art not well — 
 
 Ha, Armillus ! I that figure? 
 
 Heavens, what an insane thought ! 
 What a chimera ! With what rigor 
 
 Has it my delusion wrought. 
 
 Hell and fire ! I am confounded ; 
 
 This is bitter, this is sad : 
 Down am I by destiny hounded ; 
 
 Curse the issue ! I've gone mad ! 
 
 Mad, d'ye hear me? Blind, stark crazy ! 
 
 Oh, why met we not to fight, 
 And why did not Death, grim, hazy. 
 
 Take me off upon this night ? " 
 
 And Armillus sobbed hysteric'. 
 Covered with his hands his face, ' 
 
 Fit for consolation cleric' 
 
 As a man who'd run his race. 
 
 What a maze is not our reason 
 
 That we can go thus astray. 
 Lose into such zone and season 
 
 Hopelessly and far our way ! 
 
 But the strangers curious' eyed him, 
 Knew not what of him to think. 
 
 Saw the bitter grief betide him, 
 Saw the giant spirit sink. 
 
 " Did you say you were Armillus?" 
 (Jueried he of reverend mien ; 
 
 " The intelligence doth fill us 
 With delight. LTpon the scene 
 
 We have long to find expected 
 One who answers to that name. 
 
 And now you we have detected, 
 May we ask : are you the same?" 
 
 " I am he you seek, if any 
 Such a mighty name can own. 
 
 Yet it is not known to many 
 That I bear it, 1 alone. 
 
 'Tis an hour but that I've worn it. 
 Given me, as strange' medreamt. 
 
 And my memory has torn it 
 From my fancy, when exempt 
 
 From all reason, lay I slumbering 
 
 Yonder on the sandy plain. 
 Most fantastic visions numbering 
 
 'Moiigst my dreams there; and I wain. 
 
 Even while I seemed me waking. 
 
 Was I called thus through the night — 
 
 Ah, my senses are forsaking 
 Me— I beg you, give me light ! 
 
 Where am I ? Is this my native 
 Land, or some bleak foreign shore ? 
 
 Why Icok on me contemplative' ? 
 Give me answer, I implore." 
 
 Then the aged, reverend stranger 
 
 Fixed a pair of kindly eyes 
 On the young, bewildered ranger. 
 
 And him answered in this wise : 
 
 " Sir, you wander; pray recover; 
 
 List acute to what I'll tell. 
 Listen as the sweetheart's lover 
 
 Listens when she means him well. 
 
 You have lost, sir, your direction. 
 
 And seem utterly at sea ; 
 Have you, then, no recollection? 
 
 Is 't so much a mystery? 
 
 You were not an idle dreamer, 
 Anxious doubts but crowd your head. 
 
 Thought you to meet your ' Redeemer ' ? 
 Realize that you are dead ! 
 
 Dead ! As dead as eyer mortal 
 
 Was when he departed life 
 On the earth, and now the portal 
 
 Death swings shut to close the strife. 
 
 You have lived and loved, and ended 
 
 In excruciating pain. 
 Into hell your way have wended 
 
 To revive, and live again. 
 
28 
 
 THE INFERNAL COMEDY. 
 
 With your fancy well excited, 
 
 For prophetic visions took 
 You the instinct that incited 
 
 You within your soul to look, 
 
 And to recognize the honor. 
 Greatness, and resplendent joy 
 
 Of which Fate the generous donor 
 Would be to her favorite boy. 
 
 And the name much explanation 
 
 Needs it not : ambition's swell. 
 
 In your fancy's high elation. 
 Pointed out to you this hell. 
 
 Set your mighty spirit teeming 
 With the most profound designs. 
 
 Your imagination streaming. 
 
 Traced therein most curious lines. 
 
 As Armillus you delighted 
 To appear beyond your life. 
 
 And your bold assertion sighted 
 Victory in the coming strife. 
 
 You hate heaven, e'en without reason, 
 But you hate it ! Hate it well ! 
 
 And you come to us in season 
 To command our citadel 
 
 In full sympathy, to offer 
 Strife unto the Christ^on high. 
 
 Come, a good but ribald scoffer 
 To avenge us, or to die. 
 
 That lies in your bosom hidden; 
 
 We applaud, and call it well'; 
 Therefore are you welcome bidden ; 
 
 Sir, you are indeed in hell ! 
 
 Doubt it not because the region 
 Looks like wildland in the night, 
 
 And no mad, infernal legion 
 Fills it with revolting fright. 
 
 Hell, sir, is beyond conception 
 Of the present age of man, 
 
 Since great ages of deception 
 Have confined it under ban 
 
 In the minds of thoughtless people 
 As the haunt of woe and fire, 
 
 And the bells down from the steeple 
 Clanged along to add their ire 
 
 To the priests' vituperation 
 On these unexplored domains. 
 
 We shall wjn your approbation 
 For what there to tell remains. 
 
 And I promise you such wonder 
 As you never thought to see. 
 
 How you will accurse as blunder 
 All your wild theology ! 
 
 Know that we have been here seeking 
 For you through this deserts' gloom. 
 
 Now your willingness bespeaking 
 To conduct you to your doom — 
 
 Doom I say, because damnation 
 
 Would imply a sentence dread, 
 But it is a fine sensation ; 
 
 Gracefully will you be led 
 
 To it ; graceful your submission 
 Will be, and you'll loudly praise 
 
 Hourly, without intermission, 
 The event that closed your days 
 
 On the wicked world behind you 
 
 While you bask in glory here, 
 Not a fancy to remind you 
 
 Of its false and hollow cheer. 
 
 Lightly will the night luiravel 
 
 Which yet lurks aroiuid your brain. 
 
 And as we resume our travel. 
 It will please me to explain 
 
 What seems murky. But at present 
 
 Be it quite enough to know 
 That your future will be pleasant, 
 
 And be great ; e'er greater grow. 
 
 We are slaves in estimation. 
 As compared with your degree ; 
 
 I deliver my oratioii. 
 Sir, in all humility. 
 
 You are summoned to your glory ; 
 
 We have brought for you this horse; 
 Interesting will be the story 
 
 Of your future in its course. 
 
 Hail, Armillus, hail ! We greet you 
 
 As our master. Follow on 
 Where we lead you. Pray sir, seat you 
 
 Now yourself this brute upon. 
 
 Let me help you to the saddle — 
 
 By the gods, your majesty 
 Speaks in, how the horse bestraddle 
 
 You, with such agility. 
 
 Walk? With pleasure. I'll ne'er mind it 
 
 As we have not far to go ; 
 And the way, you'll cheerful find it 
 
 With my speech. You've much to know. 
 
 And Armillus, nobly mounted. 
 
 Entered on his s'range career, 
 In the sequel full recounted. 
 
 If you'll lend me but your ear. 
 
 CANTO III. 
 
 THE UNSEEN UNIVERSE. 
 
 HEY traversed the regions nether 
 Nor a sign was manifest 
 
 T 
 
THE INFERNAL REALMS. 
 
 2g 
 
 In the night :uhI wukI and wcalhur. 
 To allay the youth's unrest : 
 
 Darkness, night ; and night and darkness; 
 
 Inky, black, relentless night; 
 Gloom inifathomed, drear and sparkless ; 
 
 With defiance set to sight : 
 
 Naught bnt the luicertain gleaming 
 
 Of the lantern at their side 
 Carried by the servant dreaming 
 
 As their weary way they plied. 
 
 " Is it far?" Armillus queried 
 Of his guide, " to where we go 'i 
 
 Are we e'er thus to be buried 
 
 In this gloom? I sigh to know." — 
 
 "Gloom? Forever! Here no cheering 
 Sunray strays to bright our road ; 
 
 To this night there is no clearing 
 Dawn, another day to bode. 
 
 But let not your heart go sinking 
 
 At this sad intelligence ; 
 You'll soon change your mode of thinking ; 
 
 For the present, continence. 
 
 But instead of silent' wandering. 
 Let me teach you what I know ; 
 
 And instead of aimless' squandering 
 Sighs and fears, let me bestow 
 
 On your doubting understanding 
 
 What your dark surroundings mean." — 
 
 " Do, nor wait for my commanding 
 You to light me up the scene. 
 
 I am weary of the mystery 
 Which oppresses hard my brain ; 
 
 Pray commence ; I burn the history 
 To attend, and ease my pain." 
 
 And his guide his eyebrows knitted 
 To collect his scattered thought ; 
 
 Heavy effort them o'erflitted ; 
 Thus was its delivery wrought — 
 
 But at this point do I tremble, 
 
 And my lyre forsakes its task. 
 My concern cannot dissemble. 
 
 For forbearance must I ask. 
 
 O my muse, be by, I earnest 
 
 Plead ; here must I stand or fall ; 
 
 If thou here my begging spurnest. 
 Must I blush for shame for all. 
 
 Help me now, and I will praise thee 
 Though thou wast fore'er my curse; 
 
 Into realms immortal raise thee 
 Will I, if thou'lt bless my verse. 
 
 But all genius finds its level 
 
 Of itself, so I'll be brave, 
 Sing it out, defy the devil. 
 
 Listen will I in my grave 
 
 To the verdict, — if there be one ! 
 
 Stake my future on the die. 
 Of the obstacles I see none. 
 
 Headless plunge into 't will I. — 
 
 Please forgive my brief digression ; 
 
 I will ne'er be faint again ; 
 Some vague terror found expression 
 
 For a moment in my brain. — 
 
 Thus the guide begins, then ; listen. 
 Listen with all might and main ; — 
 
 How Armillus' dark orbs glisten ! — 
 It will ne'er be told again : 
 
 " Here we have been onward stalking, 
 Thus began the aged guide, 
 
 " You on horseback, and we walking 
 On oui journey side by side, 
 
 And you are not e'en acquainted 
 With your humble servant's name. 
 
 Whether it be great, be tainted. 
 Wear it I with pride or shame : 
 
 It is Hugon, and. descended 
 
 Am I from a noble house 
 Here in these black regions blended 
 
 With patrician might, nor chouse 
 
 I in this bold protestation ; 
 
 Further on you'll learn to know 
 What the virtue of my station 
 
 In this mystical below. 
 
 But of this, sir, more hereafter; 
 
 For the present, I'll explain, 
 'Midst your peals of caustic laughter. 
 
 To your highness what I wain." — 
 
 Reader, note you this my warning : 
 Seek not too profound to be. 
 
 Or you'll find yourself but fawning 
 On the mask of mockery. — 
 
 " Know then that the all, surrounding 
 Sight from earth and other spheres. 
 
 The imagination bounding, 
 Into mighty region clears. 
 
 Planets, stars and worlds revolving 
 In the endless realms of space, 
 
 Though your sclent problems solving. 
 Not the end of things embrace. 
 
 All 's a huge agglomeration 
 
 Of what's seen, and what's unseen, 
 
 A stupendous aggregation 
 
 Of revealed and hidderf scene. 
 
 Of what eye and sense and reason 
 
 Can perceive, appreciate. 
 What in nature and in season 
 
 Into shape you concentrate ; 
 
 But besides, unfathomable 
 Realms there are, beyond all sense. 
 
so 
 
 THE INFERNAL COMEDY. 
 
 Regions light and regions sable, 
 Far beyond man's vain pretence. 
 
 Past the might of penetration. 
 
 Past all frail philosophy, 
 Out of reach of speculation, 
 
 Natural gleams and history. 
 
 What is seen, the planetary 
 Systems to your sense convey, 
 
 Their consistense, exemplary 
 Nature, and their orbits' play : 
 
 All the life in, on and 'round them, 
 There phenomena and sweep : 
 
 With your telescopes you sound them ; 
 The results are small you reap. 
 
 This responds to evolution 
 
 Which for everything accounts, 
 
 Which, with so much elocution, 
 Your professor boasts and flounts, 
 
 Which makes the divine existence 
 
 Of a God without avail. 
 And which, with but slight resistance, 
 
 Other bases does assail. 
 
 All phenomena, conditions. 
 
 He explains and proves by this, 
 
 And defends all coalitions 
 With this bold hypothesis. 
 
 What can be appreciated 
 
 By the mortal sense and eye, 
 
 In itself is demonstrated; 
 That nobody can deny. — 
 
 The invisible consists in 
 What you cannot grasp or see ; 
 
 Therefore, man, this age, persists in 
 The beyond as heresy. 
 
 Take the visible, subtract it 
 From the vast e,\tent of space ; 
 
 Take all substance, and extract it 
 
 From what may your sense embrace- 
 
 And you have the great remainder ; 
 
 Nature, which you cannot see. 
 Heretics have loud' arraigned her 
 
 As a shallow perjury. 
 
 Yet it is, exists ; and even 
 
 Where you are, but proves the truth , 
 So it may with ease believen 
 
 Be, what I assert, m sooth. 
 
 This remainder, its conditions 
 Are to earth not supplement. 
 
 But these things take their positions 
 As creation's complement. 
 
 For convenience, designated 
 
 Be the limitless unseen 
 Supernatural, and be rated 
 
 The beyond ; as 'tis, I ween. 
 
 It surpasses understanding; 
 
 Let it be a metaphor, 
 Till all life has seen the landing 
 
 To this other, future shore. — 
 
 Both the states are close' connected, 
 
 The apparent and unseen ; 
 Only by dark death bisected. 
 
 Such as you have just through been : 
 
 Not by any transmigration 
 
 Of the errant human soul. 
 As by mortal's transformation 
 
 Into a demoniac whole. 
 
 Or angelic, but assuming 
 
 Once again its mortal clay. 
 Into life anew here looming. 
 
 Into some bright, other day ; 
 
 Rising into novel vigor. 
 
 Its existence well assured. 
 Meeting with accustomed rigor 
 
 Here, what it has there endured. 
 
 It is life again, existence 
 
 Under circumstances new, 
 Held to with the same persistence 
 
 You held on to life when you 
 
 Through the life on earth there wandered, 
 
 Giving way to every glee. 
 Health and bounteous reason squandered 
 
 At each terrible orgie. 
 
 It is life! And cease your wonder. 
 All will soon be light and clear, 
 
 Nor mistake my speech for blunder 
 Till to end the whole you hear. — 
 
 What's unseen, of diametric 
 
 Opposite precincts consists, 
 Botl^ whereto we speed electric' 
 
 When your sin in death persists. 
 
 One, the visible, is lighter 
 
 Than the light of sunlit day. 
 Lit by an effulgence brighter 
 
 Than you dreamt of yesterday. 
 
 And the other : it is darker 
 
 Than the shades of Erebus, 
 With its realms more dread, and starker 
 
 Than blear sin is infamous. 
 
 And each status is the region 
 
 Of the choice of will in man ; 
 Each unfolds its morbid legion, 
 
 Its precincts with life to span. 
 
 One is heaven, the plans of Eden, 
 
 An enrapturing paradise 
 Where no clouds the sunrays deaden. 
 
 Eves the shades of night entice. 
 
 And the other : you are riding 
 O'er its barren desert plains. 
 
THE INFERNAL REALMS. 
 
 31 
 
 Opportunity here biding 
 
 To grasp great, ambitious gains. 
 
 But not of extraneous causes 
 
 Is hell dark, and fair heaven hght : 
 
 There courageous fancy pauses. 
 Speculation's lost to sight. 
 
 Both are thus phenomenally 
 
 To respective habitants : 
 Both 'neath their conditions rally 
 
 Into new significance. 
 
 Nor is hell the shade of evil. 
 Nor heaven the abode of good ; 
 
 Both give o'er to joy and revel 
 As, were they on earth, each would. 
 
 But heaven was the first known portion. 
 
 Habitable at the start. 
 Till, by a politic' torsion. 
 
 Hell, too, gained its peopled part. 
 
 Heaven's called heaven by plain tradition. 
 Just because 'tis known on earth. 
 
 Thence imported by transition 
 Into the new heavenly birth ; 
 
 So is hell called hell, for reason 
 
 Similar to the above : 
 Not because of different season, 
 
 Nor out of respect to Jove. 
 
 Things inside th' infernal portal 
 
 Called a»e as they're called oh earth ; 
 
 Matters earthly, topics mortal 
 Measured are to equal worth 
 
 By cognomen, as infernal ; 
 
 Though a spade 's not always spade. 
 And a mere mask the external 
 
 Oft appears to what's 'neath laid.— 
 
 Know that heaven's not merely peopled 
 
 By a minion angel band, 
 With their God majestic' steepled 
 
 O'er them in that blessed land. 
 
 That idea is antiquated 
 
 To the dwellers of the place ; 
 Though you gasp to hear it stated : 
 
 Jove is of a mortal race. 
 
 There the virtuous and holy 
 
 Sit not 'round on rosy clouds, 
 Given up to singing solely. 
 
 Decked in white and righteous shrouds. 
 
 Clouds there are none : only fulgence ; 
 
 Brilliant, light, eternal day ; 
 Harps are not their sole indulgence. 
 
 Glory not their. only lay. 
 
 Nor is hell the home of devils 
 
 Ruled o'er by a dastard fiend 
 Given o'er to brimstone revels. 
 
 From your theologians gleaned ; 
 
 Nor are souls in torture roasted 
 
 To a Satan's grim delight. 
 Chaos and confusion toasted. 
 
 Nor debauchery his rite. 
 
 Nonsense ! Are we drunk or crazy 
 
 To be bred on stuff like this? 
 Ah, the intellect's too lazy 
 
 Dogmas and the like to hiss. 
 
 Then besides, 'tis worldly fashion 
 
 To adore, be what it may ; 
 Now an ox is all the passion. 
 
 Now a god is brought in play. 
 
 Let them have their stupid idols ; 
 
 Death will teach them otherwise, 
 And will place the proper bridles 
 
 On them, clear their misty eyes. 
 
 Follies all did we inherit 
 
 From the earth in heaven and hell, 
 , But both places have this merit : 
 There's no sexton, church or bell. 
 
 Touching is the country village 
 
 On a jocund Sabbath morn 
 When the children of the tillage 
 
 With bright looks themselves adorn. 
 
 And in peace and relish wander 
 To the moss-grown, simple church 
 
 To be blessed and filled with grander 
 
 Thoughts than they would elsewhere search. 
 
 Here the heart of bard and poet 
 
 Musi into compliance melt ; 
 Wretched he who ne'er, I trow it. 
 
 At the sight emotion felt. 
 
 But to men of sober reason. 
 
 Weighing it 'gainst solid sense. 
 Must such poesy seem treason. 
 
 Spite of faith and providence. — 
 
 As appreciable is hell to 
 
 Those who dwell within its shades. 
 And is heaven above, as well, too. 
 
 Those who bask beneath its glades, 
 
 As is earth unto the nations 
 
 Dwelling on its mottled face ; 
 Others blessed are with creations 
 
 By great nature's ample grace. 
 
 Here, as there, all the conditions 
 
 Of society and life, 
 Politics and erudition, 
 
 Law and form, and peace and strife. 
 
 All conceivable relations. 
 
 Are all fully reproduced. 
 Scenes and sights and occupations 
 
 To their new surroundings truced. 
 
 Heaven and hell and earth embrace one 
 Field of natural history, 
 
J2. 
 
 THE INFERNAL COMEDY. 
 
 Heaven and hell and earth all face one 
 Common giant mystery : 
 
 The because, the why, the wherefore . 
 
 Of this life, this death, this all : 
 But we live, we die ; and therefore 
 
 We submit to nature's thrall. 
 
 Wonder why we have existence, 
 
 What its object, end and aim ; 
 In both spheres, with like persistence. 
 
 Press themselves the problems same. 
 
 Heaven and hell and earth enjoy the 
 Similar natural kingdoms three ; 
 
 Here the mineral worlds alloy the 
 Same compounds ; the plants agree 
 
 In their genus, class and nature 
 . With the growth on mother earth. 
 Have the self-same nomenclature. 
 But exist in hell with dearth. 
 
 Animals abound in plenty, 
 
 • Not one whit more or less strange 
 Than in groups mayhap of twenty 
 Through your plains and meadows range. 
 
 Are the similes of frozen 
 
 Bergs and monuments of ice 
 
 By an all-wise nature chosen 
 As hell's dowry, and its price. 
 
 But the progress of oin- science 
 Has endowed us with the sense. 
 
 With the learning and reliance 
 To abate its consequence. 
 
 And you'll find we live contented 
 
 In our much abused abode ; 
 'Tis as much, and more, frequented 
 
 Than bright heaven is e'er bestrode." 
 
 Here the guide made pause. Armillus 
 Answered, 'neath his bosom's swell : 
 
 " May thy frigid precincts chill us ; 
 By my soul, I like thee, hell !" 
 
 CANTO IV. 
 
 Man is not extraordinary 
 
 In the scale of nether life, 
 Not less stupid, nor more wary. 
 
 Not less prone to peace or strife. 
 
 There is only that distinction : 
 Heaven is light, and htll is dark, 
 
 Sufferable to extinction 
 
 Each and both, in chaos stark. 
 
 The phenomenon of fulgence. 
 Nor its absence, them affects ; 
 
 Each enjoys a like indulgence 
 And its wants and ends respects. 
 
 Hell itself 's not known to suffer 
 
 By nonentity of light. 
 And its species are not rougher 
 
 For this darkness and its blight ; 
 
 They endure modification, 
 
 But no greater sense of change : 
 
 You will note no alteration 
 In the whole infernal range. 
 
 But this one : heaven is the tropics, 
 Hell the arctics of this sphere ; 
 
 There, all summer are the topics 
 Wintry the surroundings here. 
 
 There, most prodigal is nature : 
 
 Here, 'tis all economy ; 
 By this facile nomenclature ' 
 
 Things down here with ease agree. 
 
 Hence is heaven as hot and sultry 
 As equator-fostered zones. 
 
 And with winter no adultery 
 Practices. Infernal thrones 
 
 THE EMPYREAL SHELL. 
 
 INTO earnest contemplation 
 Fell the rider on his seat ; 
 Was bewildered with sensation ; 
 Still it all appeared a cheat. 
 
 And he fell his guide addressing : 
 " Much remains as yet unclear ; 
 
 It would be indeed a blessing 
 If I had the truth more near. 
 
 I have taken pains to hearken. 
 
 But I do not understand 
 Where the shades of Limbo darken. 
 
 Where breaks light upon the land ; 
 
 Where from earth is heaven located, 
 North or south, or east or west. 
 
 Towards the sun, or whither, rated : 
 That I have as you not guessed. 
 
 When I died, an angel vision 
 Ushered me unto the Styx : 
 
 Since then have with indecision 
 I been roaming five or six 
 
 Weary hours, I know not whither, 
 Till I came to meet with you ; 
 
 But how I have strayed me hither, 
 I've not the remotest clue. 
 
 Earth and hell seemed one dominion, 
 Sected by a single stream. 
 
 But I part with that opinion 
 Since I cannot even dream 
 
 To retrg.ce the steps I've taken 
 And regain the mundane shore ; 
 
THE INFERNAL REALMS. 
 
 J3 
 
 My pui>r senses :iie well shaken : 
 Help me grasp them, I imphjre ." 
 
 Hugon smiled : " The angel visicjii 
 
 Y;',u imagine to have seen 
 l)n the brink <if the Elysian 
 
 Fields, a f;tncy was. I ween : 
 
 And the river — what a terror 
 
 Must have been your earthly erul. 
 
 That to such a curious error 
 V'ou your faculties should lend. 
 
 All the rivers in creation 
 
 Can be traced from source to mouih : 
 \'isihle is their location 
 
 At all times, nitr north nor ^ouih 
 
 I'ell of such a stream. I wonder 
 Not so much that one like yon 
 
 Should conceive of such a blunder 
 When the shades of death accrue 
 
 Foryou spend your time in broodini; 
 
 Over the unknown beyond 
 Till you finished in concluding 
 
 What your fancy did respond. 
 
 Karth's a sphere, and has no border 
 Common with the world unseen. 
 
 No angelical recorder 
 
 To transcribe what you have been. 
 
 Send you on your way rejoicing 
 To the realms of heaven or hell. 
 
 Liberate your soul, while voicing 
 ^'ou a most sincere farewell. 
 
 Nay, these realms have no locatii>n ; 
 
 They exist, and that's enough : 
 Seek in vain for demonstration : 
 
 We believe much idler stuff/ 
 
 .\sk a faithful where material 
 
 Heavens or hells can well abound, 
 
 Stud' with rocks, and grown with cereal 
 In the sky, or 'neath the groinid. 
 
 When you die on earth, forever 
 Leaves your eager soul that globe : 
 
 .•Vll connections with it sever, 
 New conditions here to probe. 
 
 You arrive in dream well shrouded. 
 
 Re-assume like blood and flesh ; 
 .\n& from cares and foibles clouded. 
 
 Into life you once more mesh." — 
 
 " But are heaven and hell connected ? "— 
 "Aye, for they communicate. 
 
 But there is this wall erected 
 'Twixt them : old, undying hate ! 
 
 Ne'er would heavener be a heller. 
 
 Heller e'er a heavener be ; 
 Each remains a faithful dweller 
 
 Of his own, adored country. 
 
 Of this you will in due season. 
 At the proper time and place, 
 
 Further onward, learn the reason," — 
 '■ Vet both are of one same race? " — 
 
 "Aye, as I will take a pleastu'e 
 
 In explaining on our way, 
 Which we may pursue at leisure. — 
 
 As I was about to say, 
 
 \ et there is communication 
 Now between us constantly ; 
 
 For, in spite of altercation, 
 We must in some parts agree. 
 
 Hellers have no agrictdture ; 
 
 Plants want plenty light and heat. 
 They would gladly play the vulture, 
 
 f'all on us, and us defeat ; 
 
 l!ut we furnish precious metals 
 Which they cannot do without. 
 
 So for us their verdure's petals 
 Must be husbanded, and sprout. 
 
 I'hen, their climate makes them lazy, 
 
 And our pioducts oft they buy. 
 So that these infernal, hazy 
 Precincts do not idle lie." — 
 
 ■■ 1 shall try to grasp the meanin'.^ 
 Of the whole prodigious plan : 
 
 For the present I am gleaning 
 From your answers what I can. 
 
 Tell mc then, why is't not frigid 
 Here, when there is ice and snow'/ 
 
 I am not yet frozen rigid, 
 
 And the winds most balmy blow."^ — 
 
 " We are near the heavenly frontier, 
 Where the climates neutralize 
 
 ' )ne another, and each blunt here 
 
 Their extremes 'neath other skies."— 
 
 ■■ Skies ! Have we a sky above us ? " — 
 Sky, if endless space be sky. 
 
 Hut you ask too much, Lord love us — " 
 " Lord ! " — " A memory. Pass it by. 
 
 Reader, if you've heard my wariiin.g 
 ^ ou will now be full' prepared 
 
 To appreciate the dawning 
 Of the truth from figure bared. 
 
 Seek to grasp it with all rigor. 
 For on that all else depends : 
 
 Catch the sense in all its vigor; 
 
 Note how truth with grandeur blends. 
 
 " Well, imagine that all matter 
 
 In the universe contained. 
 All the suns that space bespatter. 
 
 All the worlds around these rained. 
 
 Had an end in all direction, 
 And that past this end was nau,ght ,... 
 
34 
 
 THE INFERNAL CO MED Y. 
 
 Concentrate, then, your reflection 
 On the comprehensive thouahl 
 
 That this border-hne is covered 
 
 With a huge, material shell : 
 There within find heaven hovered. 
 
 And withont find desert hell. 
 
 That within is lit by fiilgencc 
 From a thousand flaming orbs. 
 
 And enjoying the indulgence 
 Of the heat which it absorbs 
 
 While without, is heathen darkness. 
 
 And its skies are inky night ; 
 Precincts, wastes ; and deserts, darkness ; 
 
 Void of heal, deprived of lit;ht. 
 
 This idea is theoretic 
 
 With our scientific chiefs, 
 And now stands, the last emetic 
 
 ( )f their studies and beliefs. 
 
 And not wholly wrong they reason. 
 For in heaven the skies are bright. 
 
 O'er the bloom of tropic' season. 
 With a myriad planets' light. 
 
 What is more, the scope is boundless. 
 
 So colossal is this shell ; 
 Fears may be dismissed as groundless 
 
 That we'll e'er o'erpeople hell. 
 
 We have ascertained that vision 
 Can be had through untold miles 
 
 With most absolute precision. 
 Not obscured by lowest piles; 
 
 So that we must rate stupendous 
 The circumference of this sphere, 
 
 Wither but a thought must send us, 
 Or we'd never have reached here. 
 
 The connection with the inner 
 
 Side is easily maintained. 
 So that the external .sinner 
 
 May not be too hard'y strained. 
 
 Through immense and natural funnels 
 Piercing through and through the shell. 
 
 Forming long and rocky tunnels 
 
 Which have served their purpose well. 
 
 Since the method they us offer 
 Of exchanging ware for grain, 
 
 Ore for food ; they fill their coffer ; 
 And we, too, count no small gain." — 
 
 " Why then answer with sarcasms 
 
 When I bid you locate hell. 
 When th* infernal protoplasms 
 
 Lie revealed so full and well ?"— 
 
 " Why ? Because all contemplation 
 
 Of the kind is perilous : 
 We invoke much execration 
 
 If what wrong we answer thus. 
 
 So we throw it out with caution, 
 
 As the evident result 
 Of a mind which too much torsion 
 
 Drew into the blank occult. 
 
 (Juite as much of rhyme and reason 
 
 It contains as other lore 
 Which is not accounted treason 
 
 To plain sense : therein adore 
 
 Mortals a beyond uncertain. 
 Regency on twinkling stars. 
 
 Little do they mind the curtain 
 
 Which their sight prophetic mars. — 
 
 Hut enough of this ; 1 venture 
 Too much on your kind attent', 
 
 And must soon incur your censure ; 
 Better may our time be spent. 
 
 I ,et me set you forth how mortals. 
 When they quit their pigmy earth , 
 
 Fnter the infernal portals. 
 And what means their se'ond !)irth ; 
 
 What the morals that must fill us. 
 What the lessons it must teach." 
 
 Wrapped in interest, then Armillus 
 Listened to old Hugon's speech : 
 
 " Through a wide circumlocution, 
 
 Metaphysical pell-mell, 
 Arrant rant and sense-polluion, 
 
 Have I now located hell. 
 
 And you will not cease to wonder 
 Why I should at first describe. 
 
 Couched in vague, rhetoric thunder, 
 A design of other tribe. 
 
 Build you up a mad conception 
 
 Of the universe unseen, 
 .And gain credence by surreption 
 
 For a thing that ne'er hath been; 
 
 Finally, in postscript manner. 
 
 The reality ordain, 
 And unfurl the proper banner : 
 
 That will briefly I explain. 
 
 The sublime truth, sudden' blurted 
 Out, not introduced, prefaced. 
 
 Indiscreetly left unskirted, 
 Rudely into utterance chased, 
 
 Most ridiculous, unhappy. 
 
 And contemptuously would sound ; 
 To the sluggard, well nigh nappy ; 
 
 Not to any much profound. 
 
 And the luckless, daft historian 
 Of our meeting here this night, 
 
 Would be hounded with stentorian 
 Bursts from the indignant sight, 
 
 Of which he would be deserving 
 Were he not to mystify, 
 
THE INFERNAL REALMS. 
 
 35 
 
 At the outstart, readers nervinj; 
 Faculties, the point to spy. 
 
 As it is, I so considered 
 
 This from such a point ot view. 
 Though for the result I diddered, 
 
 And my troubles were not few. 
 
 First 1 teased th' imagination. 
 
 Then I set it satisfied. 
 Making every preparation 
 
 That you should become allied 
 
 With the dignity and beauty 
 .And the pride of the sublime. 
 
 Thougli I stumbled in my duty 
 Oft o'er must vexatious " rhyme. 
 
 "And so that to ridicule the 
 Climax you could never bring 
 
 O'er your heart to do, nor school the 
 Mind to jeer at anything. 
 
 Subjects great need introduction : 
 
 If the latter be too weak. 
 We condemn the whole productimi ; 
 
 Prefaces must be unique. — 
 
 And ncjw, this digression waving. 
 Let me to the point proceed 
 
 Of the mankind you are craving 
 Me your interesl at to lead. 
 
 Man as an example taking 
 
 Of the living things on earth ; — 
 
 Other souls therewhile forsaking, 
 What their import, what their worth, 
 
 All his birth and life and actions. 
 Death, and doings ill or well. 
 
 Labors, efforts and distractions : 
 Find them reproduced in hell, 
 
 And in heaven, which is included 
 When 1 mention but the first, 
 
 And which need not be intruded 
 On the realm earth deems accursed. 
 
 Man is shown into these regions, 
 
 His allotted time exists 
 'Midst these gloomy precincts' legions. 
 
 Entered on the hellish lists. 
 
 Till his term of life is ended 
 
 And he once again expires, 
 Into nothingness extended. 
 
 Past the sway of his desires. 
 
 As on earth, man here arises 
 
 To be born, to live, to die ; 
 Germinates and aggrandizes. 
 
 Fades into eternity. 
 
 With this difference : that the mortal 
 Of the sod that saw your birth 
 
 Ne'er again can view the portal 
 Ushering him unto the earth ; 
 
 With a very few exceptions. 
 
 As Gotama, and as Christ, 
 As Mahommed, with perceptions 
 
 Ne'er by man too highly priced. 
 
 Krum the shell of heaven descended 
 They, and saw once more dear life. 
 
 Saw, but being not befriended. 
 Thence returned, rid of the strife. 
 
 Ill the glow of memory embered. 
 Live these men unto the close. 
 
 But of heaven and hell remembered 
 They enough naught to expose. 
 
 ('.car in iiund, sir, that the planet 
 Whence you spring, is not the all ; 
 
 With that world I but began it. 
 This, the tale of mankind's fall. 
 
 Nay, all space is yet encumberetl, 
 Inside of the heavenly shell. 
 
 With a haze of worlds unnumbered 
 Which supply our heaven and hell. — 
 
 When on earth is born a suckling, 
 
 He attains to age, and dies, 
 At the gates eternal knuckling 
 
 Ere 't has ceased its infant cries. 
 
 If it fades out prematurely. 
 
 If man lives a natural life. 
 Floats adown the stream securely. 
 
 Makes escape from ball and knife. 
 
 Falls into a natural slumber. 
 Peacefully resigns his breath. 
 
 He has passed off, ne'er to number 
 'Mong the throng that outlives death ; 
 
 He will view these deserts never. 
 Nor the plains of heaven's delight. 
 
 He has died away forever 
 Into nothing, into night. 
 
 Fled away in the eternal. 
 
 Lost in nature's mystery, 
 Harred from heavenly or infernal 
 
 Life ; forever ceased to be. 
 
 But be his career as mortal 
 Shortened by disease, excess. 
 
 Violence, he sees the portal 
 Of his future's happiness ; 
 
 To his tacit choice according. 
 Lives anew in heaven or hell 
 
 Where, another life affording, 
 He pursues it, ill or well. 
 
 Thus, may heaven be gained by evil, 
 
 Hell invaded by the good. 
 Virtue fondled by the devil, 
 
 Vice adorn the heavenly mood. 
 
 Ciood and evil are misnomers 
 When applied to heaven or hell : 
 
36 
 
 THE INFERNAL COMEDY. 
 
 Both precincts are filled with roamers 
 Opposite to each as well. 
 
 At the moment of his entry, 
 
 Man continues in his life, 
 And becomes his person's sentry 
 
 In the new, abnormal strife. 
 
 He, where he left off, commences 
 To live on as though he'd been 
 
 Yet in his old mortal senses, 
 Steeped in virtue or in sin. 
 
 But becomes recuperated 
 
 In each innate faculty ; 
 He resumes life newly dated 
 
 Under our new ministry : 
 
 And his life will he continue 
 As if he'd been born again, 
 
 Fixtured in each vein and sinew 
 Subject to the novel strain : 
 
 He will live his life allotted 
 
 In his supernatural state 
 By the same reverses dotted. 
 
 With a like delight elate, 
 
 If he be not too soon carried 
 
 Off into the void's distress. 
 If he has not too long tarried 
 
 With our folly and excess, 
 
 Or been by disease polluted. 
 Or brought down by violence. 
 
 By his errors executed 
 Into the eternal hence. 
 
 Here, like bankrupts once more graiitei 
 From their failures a release, 
 
 He may yet become enchanted 
 With the wisdom of life's peace. 
 
 Profit by his past reverses, 
 Play with fate as with a toy. 
 
 And instead of muttering curses. 
 Learn to live and to enjoy. — 
 
 What is in him, let him show it, 
 And he'll reap his just reward. 
 
 Be he critic, be he poet. 
 Be in this or that he lored. 
 
 Here his nature and profession 
 Seeks he them, and they seek him : 
 
 Or he may at any cession 
 
 Of his wits change, ni a whim. 
 
 Here is man, what nature made him 
 In his past mimdane career; 
 
 And as they have there portrayed him, 
 They respect, regard him here. 
 
 But he may develop slowly ; 
 
 Not indeed, till he's in hell : 
 Howe'er, we shall soon know wholly 
 
 What his worth, be't ill or well. 
 
 Thus, you here with ardor fill us, 
 While on earth you were a rake ; 
 
 You resolved into Armillus 
 And exalted rank will take. 
 
 I am ordered to conduct you 
 To your destiny at once : 
 
 Until then, I will instruct you 
 In our law and custom fonts. 
 
 Ah, but see ahead a glinuner. 
 Watch it larger, brighter grow : 
 
 That is the diffused, faint skimmer 
 Of the light from ht-aven helmv : 
 
 Streaming out, a brilliant fininel 
 From a road that bends adown 
 
 Into a bewildering tunnel 
 Toward heaven's effulgent crown. 
 
 In the future you'll be fated 
 To descend to that fair .sky : 
 
 Now, sir, not to be belated, 
 We must pass the opening by." 
 
 Wonderingly our hero viewed it 
 From afar, as hastened he 
 
 On his journey, and pursued it 
 With a new alacrity. 
 
 CANTO V. 
 
 INHKKNAL POLII 
 
 HUGON'S was a sturdy figure. 
 Shouldered broad and chested deep 
 Bursting with full, manly vigor, 
 Still the heir to full nights' sleep. 
 
 On his brow accumulated 
 
 Lay the thought o{ a decade : 
 in the orbs still bright' dilated 
 
 Shone the intellect displayed. 
 
 Full of earnest his expression 
 
 .As he turned upon his charge 
 Once more, without intercession, 
 
 On his subject to enlarge : 
 
 " In that light you see the reason 
 
 Why the air about is mild. 
 And we seem in autumn season 
 
 'Stead of winter stern and wild. 
 
 Soon will endless ice dominions 
 Greet the then dismayed outlook : 
 
 You will alter your opinions 
 Of these realms at every crook. 
 
 H'rigid bergs stupendous flounted 
 Into the unpierced beyond. 
 
THE INFERNAL REALMS. 
 
 31 
 
 W'ith thriim-s frozen boldly mounted 
 I'Vom the searching gaze abscond 
 
 In the vertical, while hilly 
 Wildlands, without shrub or tree. 
 
 Roll along these confines chilly 
 Further than the eye could sec 
 
 Were it light, and we'd ascended 
 
 To the summit uppermost, 
 And our piercing glance transcended 
 
 What may human vision boast, 
 
 And our sight were sterescopic 
 
 To a wonderful degree 
 
 But I wander from my topic, 
 
 Which I'll treat now socially : 
 
 Heaven and earth you must consider 
 As you would consider earth 
 
 Your maternal ; you must rid her 
 Of ideas of human birth 
 
 As pertaining to her solely 
 
 And to any sister world ; 
 Such perceptions must be wholly 
 
 From the understanding hurled. 
 
 That small earth is but a midget, 
 And we too live on a sphere. 
 
 With the same desire to bridge it 
 And the same results to rear. 
 
 Man's a state in the creation 
 Of the whole wide universe. 
 
 And contained in population 
 Where'er living things rejoice. 
 
 'I'herefore understand, nor wonder. 
 
 When 1 tell yen that this hell, 
 'J"hough earth, hell, heaven far asunilcr. 
 
 Aborigines as well 
 
 Owned as did the earth, who Hourishcd 
 
 Long before your ancestor 
 Karliest his interests nourished, 
 
 And in hand a weapon bore. 
 
 Then ensued a great transcarriage 
 PVom the earth into this place, 
 
 Settling here ; and intermarriage 
 Soon produced a mixed new race. 
 
 Men and beasts were here transplanted 
 .After they had suffered death 
 
 There below, and here enchanted 
 With the regain of their breath : 
 
 For a man, 'though wondrous creature, 
 Is not solely soul-pcssessed : 
 
 Other beings of that feature 
 
 Stand in nature's ban confessed, 
 
 'Though he is so far conceited 
 
 To believe himself alone 
 In that, as if nature treated 
 
 Him with more maternal lone. 
 
 It is singidar how narrow 
 Is the scope of human thought. 
 
 When man's own dear flesh and marro 
 Is into discussion brought. 
 
 Wl sir, death's a mighty teacher 
 Of the truth so little guessed; 
 
 Like it there was ne'er a preacher. 
 Here, that subject is at rest. — 
 
 The inhabitants extended 
 
 First alone to heaven's fair fields. 
 And no souls this wild befriended. 
 As it mighty little yields. 
 
 But at last these saving clauses 
 Saw their fill of human kmd 
 
 Which, through some politic' causes. 
 Did at last its way here find. 
 
 Karth's profane and sacred writers 
 
 Such as Milton, fabulize. 
 Wondrous seers and brilliant sightcrs, 
 
 On the truth with misty eyes. 
 
 Fre long you vvill solve the mystery 
 
 AUegorically writ 
 By thai poet, and our history 
 
 Learn, as told by other wit. — 
 
 I have said that all condition-. 
 
 Reproduction find in hell, 
 Quite analogous positions 
 
 Occupy in here as well. 
 
 So you find distinct all races 
 
 In these shades, as on the world. 
 
 And all worlds ; with different faces 
 Lie the lands apart unfurled. 
 
 Realize that all the nations 
 
 In th' entire universe 
 Share our agricultural rations. 
 
 Seek to mate the self-same ferse. 
 
 B\u our st.irk domains are ample. 
 And none ever come too late. 
 
 Taking hell as an example, 
 F.very nation has its state. 
 
 There's America, there's Europe, 
 As though you were still on earth ; 
 
 Such conditions well allure up 
 Here mankind to seek our worth. 
 
 i'hen we've lands from worlds we nevei 
 Heard of until mentioned here, 
 
 Held by people quite as clever 
 As your planet's men appear. 
 
 Their own languages imported 
 Have all from their sod of birth. 
 
 Here in populace consorted 
 Into one stupendous earth. 
 
 Heaven and hell each has its nations 
 Living on and dying out. 
 
38 
 
 THE INFERNAL COMEDY. 
 
 Complimentary aggregations 
 
 To all worlds' contents, who sprout 
 
 Their triumphal eras, giving 
 
 Finally to others place, 
 And cede o'er th' infernal living 
 
 To a newly sprung up race. 
 
 Histories of earth and other 
 
 Planets here themselves repeat, 
 
 Brother struggling 'gainst his brother. 
 Carnage mingled in with cheat. 
 
 Thus the Indians of the prairies 
 Here succumb unto the whites. 
 
 And are driven from their areas, 
 Plundered of their ancient rights. 
 
 Hell must wrestle with precisely 
 The same problems as the world, 
 
 And we get along as nicely 
 
 Here. Thus, take the raven-curled 
 
 Children of the Afric regions ; 
 
 They are still here reckoned slaves, 
 And not one of all these legions 
 
 Us with his defiance braves. 
 
 They are brutes, and will remain so. 
 
 Servile must they ever be, 
 'Though America disclaims so 
 
 Barbarous a theory. — 
 
 Here a synonym will find you 
 
 For earth's every state and thing ; 
 
 'Though surroundings will oft blind you 
 'Tis as finger to the ring 
 
 Here as there, in all relations 
 
 Of th' entire social state^ 
 Subject to the contemplations 
 
 Of a human critic's prate. 
 
 Take the Indian, he's dispo.sed of. 
 
 Shot down like a rabid dog. 
 Dies, by commentators prosed of, 
 
 But yet looked on as a log. 
 
 Here he lives anew, is shot down 
 Once again, and gone fore'er. 
 
 Buried, and is left to rot down 
 In the earth without a care. 
 
 He is warlike, and contented 
 To live out his life in fight : 
 
 His incursions are resented ; 
 The result, eternal night. 
 
 So a Mormon dies, and leaving 
 Wives a score to mourn hisfatc ; 
 
 Here, his nature not deceiving. 
 Links himself to many a mate. 
 
 So all trades and all professions 
 
 Hellishly are repioduced; 
 AU pursuits hold here their cessions. 
 
 Neither heightened nor obtused. 
 
 Whate'er was a man's acumen, 
 Worldly lot or worldly store. 
 
 His associations human 
 
 Finds again he on this shore. 
 
 We have millions who are wealthy, 
 Millions, too, as vastly poor : 
 
 Millions sick, and millions healthy. 
 In a toil or sinecure. 
 
 On this future sphere arriving. 
 He begins where he left off. 
 
 Struggling with his fate, or thriving, 
 Met with pleasure or with scoff. 
 
 But there is this great exception . 
 
 Difference have we none in creeds. 
 None are open to deception, 
 
 None for his religion bleeds. 
 
 Comers here attain the knowledge 
 Which I now impart to you, 
 
 Nor e'er visit here a college 
 
 To be told what's false, what's true 
 
 Names are here perpetuated : 
 Noble names live cjn in hell. 
 
 Just as much with pride inflated ; 
 Humbler names live on as well. 
 
 Old associations fill us, 
 
 And to our old names we turn ; 
 Why you, sir, are here Armillus, 
 
 You will in the future learn. 
 
 So you see that man infernal 
 Is of the same paltry school. 
 
 And is on this shell external 
 As on earth, as great a fool. — 
 
 As man here is amenable 
 
 To the loss of life and breath, 
 
 Heir to ills, and never able 
 To adjourn the date of death. 
 
 And is powerless to throw such 
 
 Off into futurity. 
 You perceive that there is no such 
 
 Thing as immortality. 
 
 This to mortals seems stupendous, 
 'Gainst all theologic' sense. 
 
 Warped by theories tremendous' 
 Shallow in their vain pretense. 
 
 Yet it is so, and the thinker 
 Will agree that it sounds right. 
 
 And will be the willing drinker 
 In of its correct tnith's might. 
 
 But to bring this in connection 
 With our post-demise affairs, 
 
 Let me point out the direction 
 Which our politics here bears. 
 
 Know, then, that the shades infernal. 
 And the realms of heaven as well. 
 
THE INFERNAL REALMS. 
 
 39 
 
 Were, are, and will be eternal', 
 'Spite what revelations tell, 
 
 Monarchies with constitutions. 
 Such as England is on earth. 
 
 Hut divested of pollutions 
 By that system given birth. 
 
 We've no faith in visionary 
 Perfect' built republic states, 
 
 'I'hought to be the exemplar)' 
 Of all human estimates. 
 
 As experiment politic'. 
 
 We believe that it has failed. 
 
 And as such some hellish critic 
 Diplomatic' has assailed 
 
 That most doubtful institution 
 Of a nation's weal and peace, 
 
 Tocsined then its execution. 
 And abridged its hellish lease. 
 
 Therein we have been progressive, 
 'Though you fail to see the point : 
 
 But experiments successive 
 Taught us wherewith to annoint. 
 
 Man's not ripe for life fraternal 
 As republic' state suggests ; 
 
 That we've proved in these infern;il 
 Limits by most careful tests. 
 
 It will come to 't sooner, later, 
 But that time has come not yet ; 
 
 Mankind's virtues must be greater, 
 And its passions be more set. 
 
 When man shall be perfect : error. 
 
 Sin and vanity effaced ; 
 When forgot", the scenes of terror 
 
 Which have history disgraced. 
 
 Then let principles of equal 
 
 Rights be scattered to the crowd : 
 
 Then, as necessary sequel. 
 
 Will in common peace be bowed 
 
 Ma.sses 'fore the ideal beauty. 
 
 Of its order stand in awe ; 
 But there cannot be found duty 
 
 Where there's no respect for law. 
 
 Law must be associated 
 
 Now with regal majesty. 
 That our crimes may be abated ; 
 
 And protected, property. 
 
 For this purpose find ensconed here. 
 Both in heaven fair and in hell, 
 
 Monarchs powerful, enthroned there : 
 And they serve their purpose well. 
 
 Socialists are kept in order, 
 Law is held in due respect. 
 
 Swaying to our empire's border. 
 Purpose stout and head erect. 
 
 Majesty's supreme regarded ; 
 
 To deride it, is a crime; 
 All contempt must be discarded 
 
 When addressing power here prime 
 
 To connect this with my saying 
 That immortal there is none, 
 
 1 must shock the faithfuls praying 
 To an omniscient one ; 
 
 K-now then, that the God tlie mighty 
 Whom they worship on the earth 
 
 In their adorations flighty, 
 Atheists regard with mirth. 
 
 Him all nations have coml)ine(l in 
 
 To beseech and to adore- 
 In the faith thej^ are so blind in. 
 
 He, Jehovah, is no more I 
 
 He has long since been succeeded 
 
 In his enviable reign 
 By an heir who, 'tis conceded. 
 
 Knows his power to sustain. 
 
 Kings have followed, and departed. 
 On that heavenly, splendid throne. 
 
 One by one, by death e'er thwarted 
 To reign in all times alone. 
 
 So, too, Satan, long is numbered 
 With the dead ; his place is filled ; 
 
 But his memory has not shnnbered : 
 Into you 'twill be instilled. — 
 
 Hell, as heaven also, possesses 
 
 Its America, its Spain ; 
 Italy in dire distresses, 
 
 Ireland, too, 'neath British strain; 
 
 Germany, with France to wrangle ; 
 
 Russia, to subdue the Turks ; 
 Austria, with Greece to dangle 
 
 After ; Scotland with its kirks ; 
 
 Holland, Belgium, Denmark, Sweden ; 
 
 Norway with its fosses' fall : 
 Hungary, an earthly Eden ; 
 
 Cuba, steeped in fight and gall ; 
 
 Venezuela, with its changes; 
 
 Brazil, with its wooded wastes : 
 Chili, with its mountain ranges; 
 
 And Peru, with treasured tastes : 
 
 There's Bolivia, with its craters, 
 Argentine, with clouded peace ; 
 
 Paraguay, with order haters ; 
 Uraguay, with dire caprice ; 
 
 There's Guiana, with its peppers ; 
 
 And Granada, with its strife ; 
 China and Japan, with lepers ; 
 
 India, revolution rife ; 
 
 Persia, with its ancient fables ; 
 Siam ; Araby the blest ; 
 
40 
 
 THE INFERNAL COMEDY. 
 
 Hindoostan, with towering gables; 
 And New Zealand, in unrest ; 
 
 Whole Australia, energetic ; 
 
 Borneo, with rapid streams ; 
 Tartary, a vile emetic ; 
 
 Iceland, where the Edda gleams ; 
 
 Egypt, with its ruined wonders : 
 Tunis, with its pirate crew ; 
 
 Tripoli ; Algiers, in thunders : 
 And Morocco, dark of hue. 
 
 And the other combinations 
 
 Of unsettled, curious man, 
 Lessonful agglomerations. 
 
 All on one same reckless plan. 
 
 And besides, the territories 
 
 Of the other worlds and spheres. 
 Teeming with most wondrous stories, 
 Racked with war and wails and fear 
 
 All by like signification 
 
 Are in heaven and hell here called. 
 Each the self-same congregation, 
 
 Here enlarged, and there ensmalled : 
 
 Each a province tributary 
 To the emperor of the whole ; 
 
 All their share of burden carry 
 Of th' entire Hellopole : 
 
 All in congress represented. 
 
 Taxed according to their worth. 
 
 Each as much or more contented 
 As it was below on earth. 
 
 All a wonder, will surmise you : 
 
 So it is : a mighty truth. 
 Let its nature not surprise you ; 
 
 Study it ; you're still in youth. 
 
 You will find therein great cities, 
 London, Paris, Berlin named. 
 
 With their thousand faults and pities. 
 In like circumstances framed. 
 
 You will find your world repeated. 
 
 Thus is constituted hell. 
 Be it, then, familiar' greeted ; 
 
 Play therein your part, sir, well. — 
 
 Sex is sex the wide space over, 
 On all globes and worlds and earth'^ 
 
 People marry, live in clover 
 Or disunion, 'midst their births. 
 
 Man's prone here to all the passions 
 Which disgrace his earthly life, 
 
 Woman to the same vain fashions, 
 Child or widow, maid or wife. — 
 
 And to end this brief summation 
 
 Of the attributes of hell, 
 For your special delectation 
 
 On one more thing will 1 dwell : 
 
 Its topography wants beauty. 
 Unless romance gives it that. 
 
 But it will yet be your duty 
 On this subject oft to chat. 
 
 Here grim winter reigns eternal". 
 Summer lives in heavenly realms, 
 
 Endless frost the shades infernal 
 With its rigor ovenvhelms. 
 
 liut we make it comfortable 
 
 By cute artificial means, 
 .^nd we pierce the precincts sable 
 
 With electric, brilliant sheens. 
 
 Warmth infuse we by invention: 
 Science lends a mighty hand ; 
 
 ^'ou'll not suffer by detention 
 In this rugged, cheerless land. 
 
 Viju will praise the fates that guided 
 
 You into our friendly mid ; 
 That you think you've wrong' decided 
 
 In your choice, that be forbid." 
 
 Hugon paused. All things uncertain 
 Had become as clear as light : 
 
 Rent asunder, hung the curtain 
 
 Which had shrouded them in night. 
 
 CANTO VI. 
 
 THE TORTURES OF THE DAMNED. 
 
 THE procession was most curious : 
 Hugon with his flowing beard 
 (living him an aspect furious. 
 
 With his gray head proudly reared : 
 
 Clad in long and sombre mantle. 
 
 Waist enrapped in narrow belt 
 Which unconscious' he would tantle 
 
 As his hand it playful' felt : 
 
 On his locks a militarj- 
 
 Hat aristocratic' perched : 
 In his grasp a cane did carrj- 
 
 Which the .ground each three yards searched. 
 
 On the horse Armillus saddled. 
 
 Still in duellist costume, 
 On his journey slowly daddled, 
 
 Thus stran.ge' rescued from the tomb : 
 
 And the blood as if by magic 
 
 Fled from off the spotless white. 
 Nothing to recall the tragic 
 
 Hell-and-horror-stricken night ; 
 
 And the wound, too, was a memorj-. 
 He had never felt so strong ; 
 
THE INFERNAL REALMS. 
 
 41 
 
 All was blotted by the emery 
 Of oblivion, pardoned wrong. 
 
 And behind tlieni irndged the fellow 
 
 With the lantern at his side 
 Sending out a sickly, yellow 
 
 Fnlgence o'er the precincts wide. 
 
 All were lost in Contemplation, 
 
 All was silent as a grave ; 
 Hugon pondered o'er damnation ; 
 
 And his thoughts course headlong gave 
 
 Young Armillus, in reviewing 
 
 What his guide had him revealed ; 
 
 Now for what his fates were brewing 
 He his heart with valor steeled. 
 
 But see there, in gloomy distance 
 
 Did he not perceive a star? 
 And to lend his sight assistance. 
 
 Pinched his ^yes to see more far. 
 
 And his orbs to utmost straining, 
 
 He beheld to his amaze' 
 An effulgence dim, yet gaining 
 
 On the sense throughout the haze : 
 
 It appeared as though a valley 
 
 Was illuminated bright' ; 
 Onward faster did he sally 
 
 Through the great infernal night. 
 
 " 1 hat," e.xclaimed the aged mentor, 
 " Is the city whence we're bound, 
 
 Which we soon shall reach and enter, 
 With success my mission crowned, 
 
 \\'here we soon will be reclining, 
 
 And you'll rest on your fatigue ; 
 That bright star you see there shining, 
 Is not far by many a league. 
 
 "I'is a light electric, sending 
 
 Beams e'en stronger than the moon'-. 
 On the streets and squares e.xtendini; 
 
 ( )'er the site <if l)right saloons. 
 
 Palaces and humble dwellings, 
 
 -Magazines, attractive shops. 
 Parks, with architectural swellings. 
 
 Colleges with stately tops ; 
 
 And, in brief, the institutions 
 
 Of a great metropolis, 
 With its splendid executions; 
 
 Start not, sir: New York is this. 
 
 Yon faint streak we have to light us. 
 
 Silvei-y clear, upon our way, 
 Is the Hudson, a Cocytus, 
 
 On which beams electric play. 
 
 See the brilliant city growing 
 
 ■Jo the piercing, eager stare; 
 Thither we are hast'y going; 
 
 At this rate, we'll soon be there." 
 
 And Armillus, eyes aglister. 
 Spurred the patient' trudging beast ; 
 
 I'lighter, lighter grew the vista 
 As the site to eye increased. 
 
 Here and there already houses 
 Straggled on the outskirts 'round ; 
 
 Youths and men, and maids and spouses 
 Looked in wonderment profound 
 
 On the trio, as it passed them ; 
 
 And the rider on his horse 
 With most common people classed them. 
 
 As he might at sight, perforce. 
 
 What unto the scene imparted 
 
 An idea most picturesque. 
 Were the lights with which they darted 
 
 On into a maze grotesque. 
 
 Each one on his bonnet bearing 
 Such a light to clear the way. 
 
 Too subdued to be too glaring. 
 Yet 'most equal to the day. — 
 
 Presently a cemetery 
 
 Met Armillus' wondering sight : 
 "Ah this looks not near' so merry ; 
 
 Fit to everlasting night." 
 
 " That, sir, is an ancient relic," 
 
 Hugon to his charge replied, 
 " We are more, and less, catholic 
 
 Than those same who here have died. 
 
 Now, we substitute cremation 
 
 For this hideous sepulchre. 
 Which is less a profanation 
 
 Than the body to inter. 
 
 Think of it, to give your mother. 
 Father, sister, sweetheart, wife, 
 
 J'hink of it, to give your brother 
 To the worms at end of life, 
 
 'J'o the earth to rot and moulder, 
 
 For a horrid thing's repast — 
 How much better were the older 
 
 Rituals at sad friends' last 
 
 Duties to the dear departeii : 
 They destroyed the corpse with fire, 
 
 With surroundings broken-hearted 
 At an incident so dire, 
 
 ]'earing to their homes the ashes 
 (Guarded with most reverent pains. 
 
 And the tear-drop fondly dashes 
 On the passed-off one's remains 
 
 I'here before them : and they, knowing 
 
 That the dust has come to dust. 
 
 Think of him with bosom glowing 
 
 Witli endearment, not disgust." 
 
 Thoughtfully Armillus entered 
 That old city of the dead. 
 
42 
 
 THE INFERNAL COMEDY. 
 
 With his interest sadly centred 
 On th' inscriptions which he read, 
 
 Writ in English on the marble ; 
 
 And he noted many names, 
 Stndied out the curious garbel 
 
 'Ncatli them cited tr. their fames. 
 
 Here were names on earth most noted. 
 
 With their whole posterity 
 Which the crumbling tombstones coated. 
 
 Known to no eteniit\ . 
 
 Here the graves no heaven suggested. 
 
 Nothing but material clay, 
 In no future status vested : 
 
 'Twas a tale of yesterday. 
 
 Silently they left, and wended 
 To the city's heart their way. 
 
 Which in brilliancy e.vtended 
 'Fore them there in bustle gay. 
 
 Curiously the people eyed them 
 As they met them on the street, 
 
 .Some with eager questions plied thcni, 
 Others passed them grave and tleet. 
 
 What a world, this hellish City, 
 
 How familiar every sight ; 
 Here an object worth their pity. 
 
 There a scene affluent, briglu. 
 
 Men and women ihronged together. 
 Wrapped in costly stufts and fur-., 
 
 Klying through the bracing weather ; 
 Beggars, officers and curs, 
 
 (!aris and carriages and horses, 
 
 Followers of every trade 
 Going on their daily courses. 
 
 Life and energy displayed. 
 
 There was vanity and fashion. 
 Business, pleasure and array. 
 
 Misery and joy and passion. 
 Earnestness and woe and play, 
 
 Semblances of patient duty. 
 
 Pictures of diverse pursuit, 
 Wealth and struggle, age and beauty. 
 
 Characters of all repute. 
 
 There were avenues and highways. 
 Streets and lanes and parks and square 
 
 Gloomy terraces and byways, 
 Lit up, lively thoroughfares. 
 
 Theatres, and shops where busy 
 People thronged the bright trt>tt,>ii \ 
 
 Museums, gilded hells where dizzy 
 Mobs indulged in rinigc-i't-noiy , 
 
 \'ile and innocent diversion, 
 Festive halls and gay saloons. 
 
 Great bazaars in light-immersion. 
 Palaces with rich festc"ins. 
 
 .\nd on other hand were squallid 
 Homes, and doubtful, low retreats. 
 
 Hurried through by faces pallid, 
 Scourged with scars and anxious pleats 
 
 Hugon led his charge in hurry 
 
 To a splendid, bright hotel. 
 And escaped the flight and flurry, 
 
 And the city's mad pell-mell 
 
 There a suite of chambers festive 
 
 Waited for the guests' command, 
 Where Armilhis, flushed and restive, 
 Vainly sighed for Morpheus' hand. 
 
 < )ut upon the streets the violent 
 Glare and flutter came to end, 
 
 And the city lapsed in' silent 
 
 Peace, for further strife to meiul. 
 
 In the morning, — thus accept it- 
 Life was everywhere renewed. 
 
 And th' electric lights o'erleapt it 
 With refulgence motley hued. 
 
 Hy his bedside, at his rising, 
 
 Found Armillus rich attire 
 Which, without their source surmising. 
 
 He put on with great desire. 
 
 He was pleased at the reflection 
 
 As he glanced into the glass : 
 " What a smiling resurrection ! 
 
 What may not all come to pass I" 
 
 All was modern, fashionable . 
 
 Gallant was the cutaway ; 
 And tonsorial artists able 
 
 Brought his graces into play . 
 
 Then a breakfast fit tor princes. 
 
 And a fragrant cigarette. 
 While the guide his charge convinces 
 
 That he need o'er nothing frer 
 
 'Ihen there came the morning papers 
 With their complement of news, 
 
 I'liU of scandal, crime and capers, 
 Sport and speeches, to amuse ; 
 
 Humors of impending fighting 
 
 In some savage province far; 
 Editorials on the righting 
 
 Of the sins which home-scenes mar. 
 
 And while reading, it was stated 
 
 That a magistrate below 
 Their convenience there awaited ; 
 
 Hugon bid them up him show. 
 
 And Armillus was required 
 
 To give answer to his quest, 
 As the state of him desired 
 
 As its new and welcome guest : 
 
 " Name the planet whence you issue, 
 .And the sod that gave you birth."— 
 
THE INFERNAL REALMS. 
 
 43 
 
 "An Anicrican by lissuc, 
 
 From the little mother Kailli." — 
 
 " What the age when ilealli o'ertook you." — 
 
 " Years 1 inimher twenty-five." 
 " What your worth when breath forsook yon. 
 
 " Nolhini; : \ coiiU! never thrive." — 
 
 '■ What, then, was ymn- occupation'.'" — 
 
 ■' Sir, I wa.s a gentleman." — 
 " What was your denomination '.'" — 
 
 "Atheist, beneath the ban." — 
 
 " What yoin' name when there yon (lo\ni5hecl';' 
 '■ 'Vow my sotil, that I've forgot", 
 
 For a new one have I nourished 
 Since 1 touched iipon this spot. 
 
 "I'is Armi'.his, and no other. 
 
 That, 1 trust, sir, will suffice." — 
 " Quite so. Had you sister, brother?" — 
 
 " No, I had not such a vice." 
 
 " Were, when you passed off, you married .'" 
 
 " No, I never could me wed ; 
 Once such an idea I carried. 
 
 But the maiden long is dead." — 
 
 " Have you any expectation 
 
 Of what yoti expect to do?" — 
 " Mistily. My occupation 
 
 Is, methinks, known but to few." — 
 
 " Have you debts?" — "Some ten or twenty.' 
 
 "Are you in a mind to pay?" — 
 " Yes ; I'll soon have money plenty. 
 
 Hugon will not say mc nay." — 
 
 Then, with proper salutation, 
 
 Bowed himself the justice out : 
 There ensued a conversation 
 
 On some questions of some doubt : 
 
 " Now sir, you've become a heller, 
 
 And are fully naturalized ; . 
 And, as this hotel's high dweller, 
 
 Yon will soon he advertised. 
 
 Ixjok about you, note the people. 
 
 Note its customs and its ways, 
 Note the city void of steeple. 
 
 Time all nights, with naught of days ; 
 
 Note its social ties and passions. 
 Note how they with earth agree, 
 
 Note their pleasures and their fashions, 
 And, too, note their misery. 
 
 Note the features truly human 
 
 In their daily life displayed, 
 Note the status of fair woman. 
 
 Note the culture here essayed. 
 
 Grasp the link that holds all persons 
 
 In this whole society. 
 Note th' effects and the incursions 
 
 Of this and that theoiy. 
 
 And then .isk, how to ref.jrni ii. 
 
 How to do away its ills ; 
 And the evil, how to storm it. 
 
 How to stay its aches and chills. 
 
 I can see disdain expanding 
 
 O'er your features when yon look 
 
 ( )n humanity, demanding 
 
 Ills removed ymi cannot brook. 
 
 And 1 answer that our nalioii>, 
 
 And societies as well. 
 Are as perfect in gradations 
 
 On all earths, in heaven and hell 
 
 .\s they can be, in their actions. 
 
 Principles, morality. 
 Institutions and attractions, 
 
 .\nd in their philosophy. 
 
 Take one social factor : could you 
 Change it sudden' on the spot 
 
 To one better? And sir, would you 
 Cut out, or erase, a blot? 
 
 If man's methods are still wanting 
 Perfect knowledge, why despair? 
 
 How would yon enjoy my taunting 
 'Though you grasped from out of air ?- 
 
 Man's as perfect as he should be, 
 And methinks, is doing well ; 
 
 If not struggling, he ne'er could be 
 Half .is far, I'm free to tell. 
 
 Time will yet see man the master 
 Of all knowledge and all spheres. 
 
 And that day is coming faster 
 Than you think, I have no fears. 
 
 Man has sins .ind hideous vices. 
 Some in hand and some on shelves, 
 
 Some with happily passed-through crises 
 Rut they puni.>h all themselves. 
 
 l.et me show you that the errors 
 Which into foul yell you crammed, 
 
 Manifest are here as terrors. 
 And as tortures of the damned ; 
 
 J.et me show you how they offer 
 
 For each sin a sacrifice, 
 How they shriek and burn and suffer 
 
 For each hellish, cursed vice ; 
 
 Mother Nature, vigilante, 
 Notes and punishes sins well, 
 
 Reproduces here what Dante 
 Showed us in his horrid hell. 
 
 In this human folly's medley 
 
 You will note at every stride 
 They own seven sins and deadly, 
 
 And the first of these is pride. 
 
 See the proud their way pursuing 
 Till they suffer serious fall, 
 
44 
 
 THE INFERNAL CO MED V. 
 
 Bitterly llieir pritlc- then rueing, 
 For the fall of pride is gall. 
 
 Next comes envy, loathsome feature 
 Of the countenance of the heart : 
 
 Note the sufferings of the creature 
 'I'hat has played with that its part ; 
 
 Note how hatred marks distortion 
 
 In their purity of soul. 
 Note their miserahle portion 
 
 To the very end and goal. 
 
 Note the wrathful, with what shrinking 
 
 Fellows look upon that sin, 
 E'er avoiding it, and thinking 
 
 They have well escaped its din. 
 
 Then, sir, note the avaricious. 
 
 What regard hold they in man '! 
 They are shunned as something vicious, 
 
 And are placed beneath the ban ; 
 
 People dare not think to offer, 
 For they grasp at things at once : 
 
 Closed to them is every coffer ; 
 One in vain for credit hunts. 
 
 Take the gluttons, note tlie tortures 
 They for their delight endure ; 
 
 Yet the humble and the courtiers 
 Vic to play the epicure. 
 
 1,01 mc mention the lascivious, 
 Note the consequence there ; 
 
 Their conditions, note how grievious ; 
 What a fright, the load they bear. 
 
 Sec the violent, how carries 
 
 Fvery act of theirs to fruit ; 
 How unhappy, if one jnarries. 
 
 What repentance there's to bnut. — 
 
 Note how murder ends on gallows, 
 
 Suicide in black despair. 
 What the breakers, rocks and shallows 
 
 They encounter, wreck on there. 
 
 Note the world of fraud conducers. 
 How they battle for their gain ; 
 
 Note the woes of the seducers, 
 
 How their lives with care they stain. 
 
 See those idle, wily chatterers 
 By their folly tossed and wrung, 
 
 Miserable, hunted flatterers. 
 
 What they suffer with their tongue. 
 
 See the misers, how they tremble 
 When in jeopardy 's their gold, 
 
 How they're tantled, and dissemble, 
 How they run now hot then cold. 
 
 See the barterers, how they're rated 
 
 By disdainful fellowmen. 
 Hypocrites, how execrated ; 
 
 None will stoop to deal with them. 
 
 Mark how thieves are shimned and branded, 
 
 Quaking at their every turn. 
 Evil counselors, how handed 
 
 Hy all men who them but spurn. 
 
 Then belinld of war the leaders. 
 
 What they in their doings bear; 
 Those unsightful discord-breeders 
 
 Of damnation get their share. 
 
 Worse than thieves ana graceless liars. 
 
 See the fate of that cursed class 
 Whom we know as falsifiers, 
 
 What misforttmes they amass. — 
 
 And from simple fraud descending 
 
 Into blacker treachery. 
 Note how night and horror, blending. 
 
 Trace out their ignominy. 
 
 See this Caiiia 'mong the mortals, 
 
 How the papers with it teem ; 
 Note how deep down are the portals 
 
 In great Allighieri's dream. 
 
 By the dreadest demons hindered 
 
 To remain a sp.ace in peace ; 
 Those who would betray their kindreil, 
 
 (let from sorrow no release. 
 
 Sec the Antenora swelling 
 
 Through our nation's history ; 
 Wretches vile their nations selM'ng. 
 
 H ow tlicy eke out terribly 
 
 Chastisement from their historians 
 
 Who eternally defame 
 These accursed Antenorians, 
 
 And hold out their blotted name. 
 
 Note the Ptolcmaca spreading 
 
 Further through the universe, 
 (iuest-betrayers rashly wedding 
 
 With a reeking, shameful curse ; 
 
 Hunted, and by flight eluding, 
 
 One remains an outcast e'er, 
 O'er his treacherous misdeeds brooding; 
 
 And if trapped, the noose his share. 
 
 Such betrayers have no Mecca 
 Where in prayer they find relief. 
 
 Who would join the drear Judecca'.' 
 Its fell woes are past belief. — 
 
 Thus the hell, in which you're living. 
 
 Is with equal terrors rammed, 
 And the heads I here am giving. 
 
 Are the tortures of the damned. 
 
 Which with their intense dread kill us. — 
 
 But enough, we must be gone ; 
 Mepha waits Arouse, Armillus. 
 
 We must be there ere next morn. 
 
THE INFERNAL REALMS. 
 
 45 
 
 (Iff to Paris, hell's briglu centre, 
 'I'o our sovereign beauteous (luecii. 
 
 Where in pomp, sir, you will enter, 
 Hero uf the splendid scene. 
 
 It is she who sununons to her 
 \iHi. ArinilUis. Wx preDticr ! 
 
 (jo, and of her favor woo her: 
 (lo, and bless the coming day. 
 
 You'll admire her fine acumen, 
 And will praise her beauty well 
 
 Sir, the devil is woman !" — 
 
 '■ Let ns go. A splendid hell !" 
 
 THE ENU OF THE INFERNAL REALMS. 
 

 CANTO I. 
 
 THE CHARACTER OF TH K Ul.l-hSELl. 
 
 THE mind is great that flashes scuni 
 On evil, wrong and error ; 
 That visits sense, from duty torn, 
 With deep and awful terror : 
 
 The heart is great that bleeds at si^hi 
 
 Of loathsome prostitution 
 Of quality, of thought, of right, 
 
 And beats for retribution ; 
 
 The soul is great that swells alarm 
 
 When morals meet prostraticm, 
 And antidotes the ruinous harm 
 With scathing condemnation. 
 
 But oft, appearances dehule. 
 And, 'neath unsightly rubble, 
 
 The gem appears, while brightly-hvied 
 Phantasm bursts, a bubble I 
 
 So greater far are those who probe 
 
 The motive of each action. 
 And view the progress of the globe 
 
 With care, and not distraction ; 
 
 Who sort from seeming right the true. 
 
 Who see the sense of folly, 
 The romance of a rugged view. 
 
 The glee of melancholy. 
 
 All is not vile thai will not rhyme 
 With one's own sense of duty, 
 
 Nor is the standard of one clime 
 Another's mete of beauty. 
 
 Where one thinks this is right, that wrong 
 
 A thousand will take issue ; 
 Delusion may be ere so strong 
 
 Its fabric is a tissue. 
 
 As weeds oft flourish in the sand. 
 
 So chastisement will nourish 
 The evil it is meant to brand; 
 
 And waste and riot flourish. 
 
 But weeds ennoble oft in sod. 
 
 And flagrant coarseness mellows ; 
 
 A heretic may turn to God 
 When taken from his fellows 
 
 'Tis better, in an estimate 
 
 Of man, to judge him lightly 
 Than to repent, and that too late. 
 
 He has not been judged him rightly. 
 
 hi acts we do, in thoughts we bear. 
 
 In exercise of reason, 
 Let all our justest judgments e'er 
 
 Sweet charity rich' season. 
 
 So would I have ye judge my song 
 
 Until to end ye've read it ; 
 Then cry it right or cry it wrong. 
 
 With praise or censure wed it. 
 
 Then damn it ye that have been struck 
 
 With its unorthodo.xy 
 Of modern sentiment, and pluck, 
 
 In person or by proxy. 
 
 Its stinging brambles from the stem, 
 
 And hold to execration. 
 To scorn, ignominy up them, 
 
 And heap them with damnation. 
 
 And I will smile to see the rage 
 
 And horror I've inflicted — 
 But until then let persiflage 
 
 And war be interdicted. 
 
 Pon't sneer at every sentiment 
 That meets not your approval. 
 
 But let a patient temperament 
 Be till then your behooval. 
 
 Full opportunity I'll give 
 
 For rapture and for wonder : 
 And while ye flare and choke and grieve. 
 
 Spare till the end your thunder. 
 
 Appreciate in all its might 
 
 The hatred that I bear yc ; 
 And when I've finished what I write. 
 
 To conflict will I dare ye. 
 
 And ye that love me for my strain. 
 And gather 'neath my banner, 
 
 iMy errors meet not with disdain. 
 Nor mind my clumsy manner, 
 
 But follow me unto the end ; 
 
 Forgive my uncouth fashions ; 
 Your patience and attention lend. 
 
 And tolerate my passions. 
 
THE INFERNAL HISTORY. 
 
 47 
 
 1 must avenge a bitter wrong. 
 
 And may be oft prolific ; 
 But 1 must manifest e'er long 
 
 that it will be terrific, 
 
 rile vengeance that 1 have prepared ; 
 
 I might have been so happy, 
 Elysian joys I might have shared : 
 
 Hut now my spirit 's nappy. 
 
 My mind a cloud, my heart a wreck, 
 
 My life a mad distraction, 
 My best emotions held in check 
 
 By galling stupefaction. 
 
 1 look about me, and 1 see 
 How beings tender' mingle 
 
 'I'heir happiness and misery, 
 Until my cheeks hut' tingle. 
 
 I cast my eyes on chastity. 
 On rosy youth and beauty, 
 
 -"Vud feel my heart's blear poverty ; 
 "Iwas broke' while yet on duty. 
 
 And they that brought this break alioii 
 
 With their fanaticism, 
 That put my paradise to rout 
 
 With spiritualism, 
 
 They, and the brethren of their class, 
 Must pay me, aye, and doubl' 
 
 For all the hours they made me pass 
 Of torture, tears and trouble. 
 
 i w ill not spare one sacred thing 
 They hold to, but provoke them 
 
 With epithet and vicious fling 
 Until my scorn shall choke them. 
 
 And who are i/iey / Not ye that ask, 
 For those I mean will know it, 
 
 And will severely take to task 
 Me, the infernal poei. 
 
 But I will meet them with my verse 
 And show that 1 write reason, 
 
 .\nd science will avert their curse 
 As calumny and treason. 
 
 And now, forget what 1 have said ; 
 
 Let harmony yet fill us ; 
 Ve have but very little read ; 
 
 Return we to Armillus. — 
 
 He and his guide the city left 
 
 By rail, checked through in sleeper 
 
 Of no improvement earthly 'reft, 
 And plowed Inferno deeper. 
 
 The air without was bitter' cold, 
 
 And lights illuminated 
 Long tracts of icy bergs untold, 
 
 And snow-drifts unabated. 
 
 Within, the travelers sat in ease, 
 To destination whirling. 
 
 With various' measured energies 
 Blue clouds of smoke unfurling. 
 
 And as they sat, the guide began 
 
 His history detailing ; 
 With interest stud' the story ran, 
 
 The other high' regaling : 
 
 " On earth, lor that is whence 1 sprang, 
 
 I proved an idle fellow ; 
 My father at my earlaps rang 
 
 Till they were worn and mellow. 
 
 We lived in south of sunny trance 
 
 In plenty and in clover. 
 But I did not have many a chance 
 
 To get me half seas over 
 
 -My father held a bishopric : 
 
 And, with his endless preaching 
 
 And argument and logic' trick, 
 Went on his faith me teaching. 
 
 He won me to his own belief. 
 In which none was sincerer ; 
 
 Nor have I seen a Jesuit chief 
 Who held to it severer. 
 
 He brought me up to serve the church, 
 And I was cloaked in season, 
 
 Ihitil 1 left it in the lurch ; 
 
 It broke his heart, my treason. 
 
 The old man left me all his worth, 
 
 For I had ne'er a brother; 
 .\n<\ laboring heavily at my birth, 
 
 Was too much for my mother 
 
 1 threw my rosary away , 
 
 Was excommunicated ; 
 My heritage became their prey, 
 
 And I was foully rated. 
 
 I turned my heel upon the scene 
 
 .\nd drifted into science, 
 .\nd climbed upon a twiglec green 
 
 Through my astute reliance, 
 
 Into the French Academy, 
 
 Where I had bread and leisure, 
 
 .And paged me through philosophy 
 To my content and pleasure — 
 
 Until, one day, I met a priest 
 
 Whom I most fondly hated, 
 And who had long years never ceased 
 
 To have me e,vecrated. 
 
 We had an argument or two 
 On faith and health and weaihcr, 
 
 .\nd both of us vehement grew 
 As we stood there together. 
 
 He hurled the vilest epithets 
 
 Upon my head devoted, 
 .\nd dealt me out some hideous threats 
 
 Of hell not sugar-coated. 
 
THE INFERNAL COMEDY. 
 
 The argument got out of joint, 
 
 And I got out of patience, 
 And brought him much too sharp a point 
 
 To keep up our relations ; 
 
 The point was steel, and 1 was flown. 
 
 But soon thereafter dangled 
 From lofty public gibbet down. 
 
 And died of being strangled. 
 
 1 rame to hell 1 know not how, 
 
 And set up for assessor. 
 But to superiors would not bow. 
 
 And so became professor 
 
 (^f physics and of chemistry 
 
 In some infernal college 
 Where I obtained a high degree. 
 
 And wondrous wealth of knowledge. 
 
 The chancellor died, and me they chose 
 
 To fill his late position. 
 And higher in esteem I 'rose ; 
 
 The queen saw my condition. 
 
 And when there died the minister 
 
 Of things of the interior. 
 On me the seat did she confer 
 
 As being not inferior 
 
 To what I had ; I bowed in grace. 
 
 Accepted the portfolio ; 
 She dropped a title on my place. 
 
 Thus ending the imbroglio. 
 
 I .idded to my worldly store, — 
 Which is, too, store infernal, — 
 
 And 'rose in honor more and more 
 By ministries internal, 
 
 Until, one day, our gi-acious queen 
 
 An hour of me demanded ; 
 Her majesty, no sooner seen, 
 
 A document me handed 
 
 On which a lengthy tale was writ' 
 
 That one by fate elected. 
 Possessed of supernatural wit. 
 
 Was here to be detecteil 
 
 Who might himself Armilhis lall : 
 
 He was to be arrested. 
 And brought within the royal thrall, 
 
 With dignity invested. 
 
 1 will not now anticipate 
 
 The queen's communication. 
 Which she will in due time relate. 
 
 But she divulged your station 
 
 To be in future her premier ; 
 
 'Tis here the highest honor, 
 And Congress did not say her nay 
 
 To be of it the donor. 
 
 We call it Congress here in hell ; 
 'Tis Parliament in heaven ; 
 
 A heavener is a British swell 
 In all the holy seven. 
 
 Vou see, the difference 'twixt the two 
 
 Inimicals is curious ; 
 I'heir states are not their mortal due ; 
 
 The sense of heaven is spurious. 
 
 Those men and women on the earth 
 
 Who live to read the Bible 
 And other such, up from their birth. 
 
 On common sense a libel ; 
 
 Who lay upon their knees and pray. 
 
 Sincere' or hypocritic' ; 
 Who fast the Lenten days away, 
 
 Abstain from life politic' ; 
 
 Who go to church, and spend their gold 
 
 On beggarly collection ; 
 Who ape the sheeps of shepherds' fold. 
 
 And howl for heaven's protection , 
 
 Who frown upon the dance, the stage, 
 And shrink from glee and pleasure ; 
 
 Who fear a godhead in its rage. 
 And wait its lordly leisure ; 
 
 Whose life's a narrow-minded sphere 
 
 Of meekness and devotion; 
 Who, ere they'd smile, would shed a tear. 
 
 And deem a woe a lotion ; 
 
 Who go about with bowed-down heads 
 
 In covert, sneaking manner ; 
 Who tremble in their very beds 
 
 When dreaming of our banner ; 
 
 Who represent the ignorant, 
 
 The obstinate, fanatic. 
 The ministers of wretched cant 
 
 And dogmas theocratic ; 
 
 And others of that hateful ilk 
 
 Who 'round delusion fumble. 
 Be they decked nut in sack or silk. 
 
 Be titled they, or humble, — 
 
 All such, at their express demand. 
 Attain the heaven they sigh for ; 
 
 While such who live on other hand. 
 Get to the hell they die for. 
 
 So note the more congenial air 
 
 Of sharers of damnation, 
 And thank your stars that you are where 
 
 They think and act elation." 
 
 And thus they passed the time away. 
 
 Exchanging their opinions. 
 Engaged in narrative or play 
 
 And crossed the bleak dominions. 
 
 It went by rail, it went by sea, 
 Through wintry wind and rigor; 
 
 It went in earnest, went in glee. 
 It went with speed and vigor 
 
THE INFERNAL HISTORY 
 
 49 
 
 The realms athrougli, until they saw 
 
 The capital infernal, 
 'I'he centre of the might and law 
 
 Of the confines eternal. 
 
 Armillns stepped with swelling heart 
 Into a line conveyance, ' 
 
 A comfortable, regal part 
 Of majesty's purveyance. 
 
 They drove unto a grand hotel 
 
 To make due preparation 
 To show themselves refreshed and well 
 
 Upon the presentation. 
 
 They rested from their late fatigue. 
 
 And donned a rich attire 
 To join the court' s^t/cU intrigue. 
 
 And notice to inspire, 
 
 And then set out in regal state, 
 
 Aquafi'with fortune's chalice. 
 To bow before their potentate 
 
 Within the royal palace. 
 
 Armdius was aglow, and burst 
 With youth and manly beauty, 
 
 Elate, impatiently athirst 
 To do the queen his duty. 
 
 They hurried through the brilliant streets. 
 
 And lively, splendid courses. 
 In gallant style and dashing heats. 
 
 Drawn on by prancing horses. 
 
 Unto his charge the old man said : 
 "Assume the blackest feather. 
 
 And look your best, erect your he.id 
 When we go in together. 
 
 Remember you are more than they 
 
 Who stand by in derision ; 
 Be amiable, be proud, be gay, 
 
 Assimie yoyr brightest vision. 
 
 Then play it well, your destined part ; 
 
 Be prudent, bold, infernal ; 
 Inspire with love Queen Mepha's heart. 
 
 And yours is joy eternal !" 
 
 CANTO II. 
 
 THE THIKD TE.STAMENT. 
 
 ARMILLUS gazed with wondering looks 
 Upon th' illumination 
 Of miles of park and garden nooks, 
 And endless sequestration ; 
 
 And, in their midst, a palace fair 
 In gorgeous guise uprising, 
 
 The simile of which he ne'er 
 Had set about devising. 
 
 There was a maze of firs and pines. 
 
 With snowy silver lining, 
 Their twigs and curious' clinging vines 
 
 In icy breaths repining. 
 
 The battlements and towers were ice. 
 
 Of palace and out-buildings ; 
 And flashing beams of rare device. 
 
 As if from costly gildings. 
 
 Upon the bleak vicinity 
 
 From thousand lights reflected ; 
 
 The park's unique intricacy 
 By pathways intersected. 
 
 They passed the chilly splendor through. 
 
 Up at the portals landing. 
 Where guards, in clothes of regal hue. 
 
 Were silently 'round standing. 
 
 These bowed a welcome to the twain 
 
 As they the portals entered. 
 The interest of each guard and swain 
 
 Upon them fi.xed and centered. 
 
 The halls within were rich and great. 
 
 With decoration fangled, 
 The evidence of royal state, 
 
 Escutcheon proud' bespangled. 
 
 A chamber then received the pair. 
 Wherein a crowd 'round strutted 
 
 Of humble mendicants with prayer. 
 And courtiers fortune-glutted. 
 
 Immediately they were perceived, 
 
 A page approached politely, 
 A hundred feeling much aggrieved 
 
 These were preferred, and brightly 
 
 Old Hugon smiled, /(>?/;7w/;v(;' the boy. 
 And in his footsteps followed; 
 
 Armillus fell behind, his joy, 
 Treplditation swallowed. 
 
 They stood before their august queen, 
 
 Armillus fiercely blushing. 
 Old Hugon looking on serene'. 
 
 His charge's blood hot" rushing. 
 
 Nor dared he raise to her his eyes, 
 He felt so much confounded ; 
 
 Her aspect could he not surmise. 
 His heart so rapid' bounded. 
 
 And Hugon took the word and spake: 
 
 " Your majesty, behold me 
 With him I searched for, in my wake ; 
 
 'Tis he, and so he's told me." — 
 
 " Tis well," replied a woman's voice 
 
 So thrilling and so charming 
 That he attrapped his heart rejoice. 
 
 And feelings to her warming. 
 
50 
 
 THE INFERNAL COMEDY. 
 
 " We thank thee for thy loyal zeal, 
 And more, that wast successful ; 
 
 We shall bethink us of thy weal ; 
 It shall not prove distressful. 
 
 And you, kind sir, that have obeyed 
 
 Our call sans hesitation, 
 Be you 'mongst us a welcome prayed ; 
 
 Accept our salutation." 
 
 And then Armillus fell on knee, 
 
 And grasped the royal ermuie, 
 And pressed to lip it ardently. 
 
 His homage to determine. 
 
 And then be raised his eyes to hers 
 
 With admiration glowing, 
 The scion of the Lucifers 
 
 Upon, their glance bestowing. 
 
 He saw a most entrancing face 
 
 Of dark and radiant beauty, 
 And vowed, by every faultless trace. 
 
 To do her sacred duty. 
 
 Such eye he had ne'er had dreamt to see, 
 
 So black, so bright, so bursting 
 With inward fire and ecstacy ; 
 
 How fell his own to thirsting! 
 
 What classic brow, so royal' set. 
 
 As white as alabaster, 
 That with an inward epithet 
 
 As with the gods he classed her. 
 
 How burned those cheeks, so soft, so smooth. 
 
 With color high and rosy : 
 How cinb his gaze, his passions soothe 
 
 In features silent, pmsy ? 
 
 How swelled those lips alluringly — 
 
 A life he'd give to kiss them. 
 And die out in eternity. 
 
 Eternally to miss tliem. 
 
 Those raven tresses, how they fell 
 
 Upon the royal mantle — 
 What cup or food was there in hell 
 
 That him like these could tantal'? 
 
 With gracious smile, in stately wise, 
 With gentle, well-meant manner, 
 
 Her looks aflash, she bid him rise. 
 And took him 'neath her banner. 
 
 "Ah, beauteous queen," quoth he, " I bless 
 My stars to've brought me to thee 
 
 To lay my homage under stress, 
 And with my service woo thee. 
 
 Accept me, heart and hand and soul. 
 
 To die for, to defend thee 
 Unto the end, unto each goal. 
 
 Wherever thou may'st send me. 
 
 If 1 have been elect' of fate 
 Thy foes to fight and crumble, 
 
 And stand within thy service, great. 
 Yet am I thine most humble. 
 
 For thee would I endure once more 
 
 My death's sublimest terrors, 
 And wade in heaven's own blood and gore. 
 
 And count them not for errors. 
 
 Hail thee, thou fairest of thy sex, 
 
 To thee I consecrate me ; 
 And if in smallest thing I ve,x. 
 
 Thou may est execrate me. 
 
 If thQu wilt give to me my sword. 
 In hand my shield, too, place me. 
 
 And send me thus one glance adored. 
 In battle will I face me 
 
 Thy enemies, be Who they may, 
 
 I will so long annoy them 
 'Till they'll not see another day 
 
 To give me to destroy them." 
 
 And on her hand he pressed a kiss 
 That sent the blood fierce' sweeping 
 
 Athrough her veins in thrilling bliss, 
 And on her cheeks high leaping. 
 
 Thus had Queen Mepha won a knight 
 
 Who would a host assemble 
 To fill the power of heaven with fright. 
 
 And make its legions tremble. 
 
 And Hugon smiled upon the pair ; 
 
 His presence well might 'reave them 
 Of liberty and tender air : 
 
 He bowed salute to leave them. 
 
 She gave her train a royal sweep 
 
 With lordly, gentle vigor. 
 And into cushions soft and deep 
 
 Reposed her graceful figure. 
 
 And motioned to the fluttering youth 
 
 To seat himself beside her. 
 Which he obeyed her quick, in sooth. 
 
 With love-looks to betide her. 
 
 She tinkled on a silver bell 
 
 And called for fruit and sherry, 
 
 Nor needed he her words to tell 
 To be him fast and merry. 
 
 "Armillus," quoth the lovely girl 
 
 Who bore the crown infernal, 
 " I thank thee thou art not a churl 
 
 Within, nor yet external'," 
 
 And blushed to say it, while he met 
 
 The glass she high uplifted ; 
 And he, his rapture still to whet. 
 
 Her own with full eyes sifted. 
 
 " Here's to the future, may it prove. 
 
 My queen, an age of pleasure; 
 May fortune e'er success behoove. 
 
 And we enjoy 't at leisure. 
 
THE INFERNAL HISTORY. 
 
 51 
 
 And may yuii realize and learn 
 The homage that 1 bear you, 
 
 The sentiment with which I burn, 
 To eqvial which 1 dare you." 
 
 And he bestowed a blazing glance 
 
 Upon the lovely creature, 
 With blush and shame yet to enhance 
 
 The glory of each feature. 
 
 They sat and chat', and looked a world 
 
 Of meaning and of feeling ; 
 A hurricane of passion whirled 
 
 Into a soft congealing. 
 
 And when they 'rose, he burned of her, 
 And she of him, distracted' ; 
 
 Affection stopped not to aver 
 Its fervor, nor protracted 
 
 In bashfulness its backwardness. 
 But spoke with loud assurance 
 
 From eyes that gleamed with wickedness 
 And passionate allurance. 
 
 "And now," quoth she, " but follow me 
 
 To my communication. 
 So that there be no mystery 
 
 Between us, for your station 
 
 Must be determined in the hour. 
 
 For so, sir, do I will it ; 
 Impatient' will the time devour 
 
 I e'en until I fill it 
 
 M'ith romance of your noble birth 
 
 In history's extension. 
 Which you knew not while you on earth 
 
 Yet suffered your detention." 
 
 She led the way into a hall. 
 
 Of his attention certain. 
 Since she so exercised her thrall ; 
 
 And pointed to a curtain : 
 
 " Behind that stands a massive plate 
 
 Of rarest, whitest marble. 
 Which sacredest of things I rate, 
 
 And what it bears in garbel. 
 
 Know then, when Satan lost his cause. 
 
 Retired with his legions. 
 And made his long and bitter pause 
 
 In these infernal regions. 
 
 Upon this marble slab he writ 
 
 A prophesy for certain. 
 In terms of brevity and wit " 
 
 Slie tore aside the curtain : 
 
 " Read for yourself!" — Armillus read ; 
 
 " My fall, to fate impute it ; 
 Historians will with lie it wed; 
 
 Armillus shall refute it ! 
 
 So when he comes, then tremble, Christ, 
 Or ye of his succession; 
 
 He will avenge me, and high-priced 
 Will be his intercession. 
 
 And ye that follow me in reign. 
 Receive, adore and hail him. 
 
 And let the highest be his gain ; 
 With honor high regale him. 
 
 What follows that, I may not know. 
 
 But tell him that I love him, 
 For he will Jove's destruction sow. 
 
 And place himself above him." 
 
 Armillus turned away, and frowned 
 
 With sternest resolution ; 
 "Aye, Lucifer, and I'll be crowned 
 
 Thy scourge, thy retribution !" 
 
 And then he bowed unto his queen : 
 " I thank you for this showing. 
 
 For this inscription that I've seen; 
 For true', 'tis worth the knowing. 
 
 I'll be your ancestor's best friend. 
 And be yours too, to measure ; 
 
 You my perceptions, power lend. 
 And be your slave, your pleasure." 
 
 And Mepha caught his raving eye 
 Aburst with love, and kindled; 
 
 Alas for maiden modesty ; 
 Into a naught it dwindled. 
 
 He caught her in impulsive arms, 
 
 Her wild to bosom straining. 
 He clasped to heart those splendid charms 
 
 Their sweet ambrosia draining 
 
 And when they parted for the night, 
 
 It was in mellow sorrow. 
 Expectant of the dawning light 
 
 Of promising to-morrow. 
 
 The morrow came, and witli it brought 
 
 A scene of regal splendor. 
 In which Armillus, sense high wrought 
 
 Met Mepha, she to tender 
 
 The emblems of official state. 
 
 Before the court assembled. 
 To him, with dignity elate 
 
 And passion well dissembled. 
 
 And when 'twas done, and he the oath 
 
 Of office had him taken. 
 They left the throne -hall, happy both 
 
 To have the throng forsaken. 
 
 And sought a refuge where they might 
 Pour out their young affection. 
 
 Enamored of each other's sight, 
 And fearless of detection. 
 
 And when they'd cooed till either knew 
 
 The other's heart, requested 
 Armillus of his queen to shew 
 
 In what her past was vested ; 
 
52 
 
 THE INFERNAL COMEDY. 
 
 To tell him of the history 
 Of matters thought eternal. 
 
 To open out the mystery, 
 The tale of things infernal. 
 
 The narrative of time and space, 
 Of man's birth, of his sinning; 
 
 The features of the struggle trace 
 To end from their beginning. 
 
 And she most willingly complied, 
 For to her woman's graces 
 
 She familiarity allied 
 
 With circumstance and places. 
 
 And we will follow what she tells ; 
 
 I pray for your attention. 
 And I will weave ye wondrous spells 
 
 Of interest and invention. 
 
 Armillus lent a willing ear. 
 And marveled at her story ; 
 
 So may ye marvel when ye hear 
 The tale of Mepha's glory. 
 
 CANTO III. 
 
 THE NEW GENESIS. 
 
 QUKF.N Mepha owned extensive store 
 Of cosmic erudition, 
 (_)f history and ancient lore 
 Devoid of superstition. 
 
 She had been taught philosophy 
 
 In an infernal college, 
 And could surpass the mastery 
 
 Of petty human knowledge. 
 
 In common with the lowest serf. 
 
 The problem of all ages. 
 The origin of blooming turf. 
 
 And life in all its stages. 
 
 The starry maze, the heavens blue. 
 
 The miles of restless ocean. 
 The meadows laughing in the dew. 
 
 The zephyrs in their motion. 
 
 The towering mountains, great cascades 
 
 Of rainbow-tinted waters 
 In fury lashed on rocky blades 
 
 In foul Charybdian quarters, — 
 
 Knew she. And much beyond all 
 
 To her by sires related 
 Who set forth their hypothesis 
 
 Of things emphatic' stated ; 
 
 Nor proudest intellect on earth 
 Of educated woman. 
 
 this. 
 
 Of most aristocratic birth. 
 Could equal her acumen. 
 
 She spoke delight, and breathed love 
 When so it pleased her humor. 
 
 All idle slander far above, 
 Beyond the reach of rumor ; 
 
 Or she could prattle on all things 
 
 Divine, infernal, mortal ; 
 Deal out the most sarcastic flings, 
 
 Yet stop short at the portal 
 
 Of vanity, her steps retrace. 
 And shine at home resplendant, 
 
 A worthy scion of her race. 
 Of Satan the descendant. 
 
 And when she oped her lips to smile, 
 She won all hearts about her ; 
 
 Her enemies ne'er saw her guile. 
 Nor could they stop to doubt her. 
 
 And when she knit that classic brow 
 
 In earnest meditation, 
 She hushed a riot, quelled a row. 
 
 And won o'er detestation. 
 
 And as she now began to speak. 
 It seemed no condescension; 
 
 Yet he beside her felt so weak. 
 And list' with wrapt attention. 
 
 She spoke as I can ne'er repeat, 
 
 With sense and animation ; 
 To hear her, was a royal treat. 
 
 Without exaggeration : 
 
 " The oldest records they possess 
 
 On earth of the beginning, 
 What some in Christian faith profess, 
 
 Although their ranks are thinning. 
 
 Are found contained, ni book and verse. 
 
 In a divine-called Bible, 
 Which would me for my precepts curse 
 
 And hold mc for them liable. 
 
 Therein 'tis writ that world and sky 
 
 Are wonders of creation, 
 A sacred, hallowed mystery 
 
 Beyond our penetration. 
 
 And yet the truth lies bare and clear. 
 
 Nor hiding from detection; 
 In evolution find its gear. 
 
 In natural selection. 
 
 Begin we then where time began 
 To work its ancient wonders. 
 
 And let us thought and reason span. 
 Defy the church's thunders ; 
 
 And fly with me from narrow thought. 
 From would-be wits and sages. 
 
 And learn what common agents wrought 
 In untold, misty ages." 
 
THE INFERNAL HISTORY. 
 
 53 
 
 lint hero I bid you p;uise a while, 
 You rash and careless reader ; 
 
 Here is a stone that marks a mile ; 
 Read slow', and try to heed her: 
 
 " Then know that in the womb of time, 
 
 Beyond the first beginning, 
 Before there was a zone or clime, 
 
 Or thoughts of mortals sinning. 
 
 There was a blank — a mighty blank — 
 Of nothing! Note my meaning. 
 
 There was no life, no file, no rank. 
 No stirring and no weaning. 
 
 All what you may of things conceive. 
 
 Was absent ; no perception 
 Was there into this blank to weave 
 
 By fancy or surreption. 
 
 There was no void, there was no space. 
 
 There was no realm chaotic, 
 No things to mend, no mist to face, 
 
 No life, no germ e.xotic. 
 
 'Twas nothing. Think, and you are lost ! 
 
 A nothing is no vision; 
 It is not even ; 't has no cost, 
 
 No measure, no precision. 
 
 It was no ether, was no air, 
 
 It lacked qualification; 
 It bore no fruit, it owned no share. 
 It had no emanation." 
 
 Then did a God step forth to make 
 
 A plan for system-building ? 
 Establish earths, with moons in wake, 
 
 And sinis co lend them gilding ? 
 
 A wretched thought ! How darkly plod 
 
 These men in narrow folly ! 
 Can out of naught proceed a God? 
 
 It makes me melancholy 
 
 To think that in the face of truth, 
 
 As taught by evolution, 
 A faith should live to lend, in sooth. 
 
 Our living its pollution. 
 
 No, no : the fact may yet be hid. 
 
 Or yet be theoretic : 
 All theory I welcome bid, 
 
 'Though thought to be heretic. 
 
 Before I give to faith my ear. 
 
 Before I stoop to praying ; 
 A few short years will make it clear 
 
 Past hooting and gainsaying. 
 
 Until then let us speculate. 
 
 Account this faith a treason 
 To common sense, and boldly state 
 
 Cosmology in reason. 
 
 Let her proceed : " The human mind. 
 To certain workings narrowed. 
 
 Cannot conceive a naught, and find 
 The mental pulse unharrowed 
 
 By struggles for the sober sense 
 
 Of clear, concept! ve vision, 
 But in such reasonings must commence 
 
 With doubt and indecision. 
 
 A naught is nothing, yet's embraced 
 
 In everything — how say you? 
 I seek to have the bottom traced. 
 
 Nor will with words betray you. 
 
 Were there not everything, we could 
 
 No nothing have ; for, clearly. 
 All things were in a curious mood 
 
 If everything were merely 
 
 Aparfofall. This nothing, then. 
 
 Of everything a part is. 
 It cannot go beyond your ken 
 
 That this of all the start is. 
 
 But 'everything,' with 'nothing' classed 
 
 Within its comprehension. 
 Must be of particles amassed. 
 
 Have nature and extension. 
 
 All things have pores, interstices. 
 
 And 'nothing' 's no e.xception; 
 So nothing with its pores agrees. 
 
 Though hazy the conception. 
 
 Interstices, 'though rifts so small 
 
 That they cannot be sighted. 
 And oft beyond the fancy fall. 
 
 Are yet not to be slighted. 
 
 So little so that they comprise 
 
 The alpha of all action. 
 And 'though with comprehension vies 
 
 The thought, 'tis not distraction. 
 
 These pores infinitesimal 
 
 Then might be, or prodigious. 
 Yet there they were — 'though criminal 
 
 Seems this to the religious. 
 
 These pores took heart, and burst their sphere. 
 
 And battled for extension ; 
 The 'nothing' fled as if in fear. 
 
 And oflfered no prevention. 
 
 In infinite time, to infinite space 
 
 Grew out these pores with vigor; 
 They vanished in the boundless trace 
 
 Of universal figure. 
 
 But mark that space not mere extent 
 
 Implies ; that were a fiction ; 
 You may not catch my words' intent ; 
 
 It beggars my description. 
 
 Of 'something' the e.xtent is space, 
 
 Not ' nothing,' or not spacious 
 At all extent would be, nor place 
 
 Would be for aught that's gracious. 
 
54 
 
 THE INFERNAL COMEDY. 
 
 That something which extent then filled. 
 
 Or filled all space, extended 
 Through all extent, spaced space, was milled 
 
 A thing that much portended. 
 
 That something's known by various names, 
 
 By ether, or by other 
 Much vaguer titles, mistier framss, 
 
 The fancy's breath to smother. 
 
 I'll call it simply hydrogen. 
 
 And suffer your objection, 
 And rest me on my feeble ken 
 
 For mercy and protection. 
 
 So that, when infinite years had chased 
 
 Eternity on further 
 A lazy step, the future based 
 
 Stood, fashioned by the birther 
 
 Who was not God, but simple law 
 
 Of natural creation ; 
 See how the frosts of ages thaw 
 
 Beneath our penetration ! 
 
 The atoms of this 'something' massed, 
 
 A mobile fluid forming. 
 The furthest frontiers' lines surpassed. 
 
 In lively motion storming 
 
 For change of place and change of scene. 
 
 And constant intertumbling, 
 In noiseless strife and subtle spleen 
 
 Upon each other rumbling. 
 
 Until the atoms streaming curled 
 
 In ordersome rotation. 
 To aid in building up a world 
 
 In this immense creation. 
 
 And in an infinite space of time. 
 These atoms changed their nature ; 
 
 By inci-accident and clime, 
 
 They changed their nomenclature. 
 
 This atom into carbon changed. 
 
 To sulpher changed the other ; 
 A third into bright silver ranged. 
 
 And gold became its brother : 
 
 And so forth, till the elements, 
 
 In gaseous state assorted. 
 Became the planets' instruments. 
 
 And with each other sported. 
 
 For all the elements have sprung 
 
 From common base parental. 
 As they would tell had each a tongue. 
 
 And each a talent mental." 
 
 Here Mepha paused. Armillus said : 
 
 " Your argument is novel, ^ 
 Yet is 't not with conviction wed' ; 
 
 For my consent you grovel. 
 
 At first you ask me to conceive 
 A nothing not e'en spacious ; 
 
 And then you ask me to believe 
 A consequence audacious, 
 
 Which I audacious call because 
 
 If space were not existing 
 In nothing, then you now must pause 
 
 The contrary persisting ; 
 
 For space at last is space at first. 
 And spaceous is like porous ; 
 
 You have been blinded by your thirst 
 For knowledge ; and in chorus 
 
 Will sages overthrow your scheme ; 
 
 Your logic is inihealthy ; 
 Your premise seems an idle dream ; 
 
 Your wit alone is wealthy." — 
 
 "Armillus, speak not hastily," 
 Him warned the glorious woman, 
 
 " This question's simple majesty 
 Appalls your young acumen ; 
 
 Nor can you hope to understand 
 
 By credence me refusing 
 Before you've taken it in hand, 
 
 And my design abusing. 
 
 Can you conceive of emptiness. 
 Of nothing, with your reason? 
 
 A thing that 's attributionless, 
 A thing to fancy treason? 
 
 You cannot, perfectly. Therefore 
 
 Must you accept its nature. 
 And too, sir, if it own a pore. 
 
 From logic's nomenclature. 
 
 Can you my premises deny ? 
 
 You cannot. Then accept me 
 The rest. Can you with logic vie? 
 
 Then have you overleapt me." — 
 
 " My queen," replied the gallant youth, 
 " Forgive me for this trouble ; 
 
 I must accept it all as truth ; 
 Denoimce all else a bubble. 
 
 For all our world's philosophy 
 
 Is, might I say, the science 
 Of the infinite mystery 
 
 On finite grounds' reliance. 
 
 So may we argument our lives 
 
 Away in vain dissention 
 Of creed; no theory e'er thrives 
 
 That passes the extension 
 
 Of worldly wit and human ken ; 
 
 We are so small, so humble. 
 We puny and vain-glorious men ; 
 
 How quick' our fancies crumble ! 
 
 How oft have I not listened to 
 A war of words, and thought me 
 
 How idly the conclusion woo 
 These men who oft have wrought me 
 
THE INFERNAL HISTORY. 
 
 55 
 
 Stupendous plans of cosmical 
 Commencement, to astound me ; 
 
 Hereafter, I but laugh me shall 
 At these disputes around me. 
 
 We know that we were given birtli ; 
 
 To propagate, our mission , 
 To live our space on some small earth, 
 
 Or supplement th' edition 
 
 Upon another sphere like this ; 
 
 But die we must when 't 's over; 
 So I'll accept th' hypothesis. 
 
 And lie me down in clover. 
 
 I can endure what you me preach 
 
 While it is not religious. 
 And 'though your ends and fancies reach 
 
 Away in the prodigious. 
 
 So far your majesty spoke well ; 
 
 What follows, acceptation 
 Will find, whatever you may tell 
 
 Me of the whole creation. 
 
 Proceed, fair queen, nor on the way 
 
 Of your narrative dally, 
 And in your intellect's display. 
 
 Another triumph tally.' 
 
 He gazed on her with tender eyes ; 
 
 For love did he enlist her ; 
 He drew her out some deep, deep sighs ; 
 
 He caught in arms and kissed her. 
 
 CANTO IV. 
 
 AtnoCREATION. 
 
 SOCIETY : what does it mean? 
 It means the world of fashions 
 In which each action is a screen 
 To lullaby the passions. 
 
 So when a man and woman meet 
 
 In intercourse profounder 
 Than common talk, they seize the treat, 
 
 'Though slanders fall around her 
 
 Whom t concerns ; not less divine 
 
 Is their precipitation 
 In love, nor less her glorious shine 
 
 Who yields to the sensation 
 
 On first attack ; this couple met 
 On ground far higher, stranger 
 
 That that on which plain mortals fret. 
 Nor was there any danger 
 
 That Mepha should be less a queen, 
 A virgin, and a woman; 
 
 She did not bloom to blush unseen ; 
 She was trifle human. 
 
 Armillus was to her a man 
 
 To whom she was mdebted 
 For dreams of vengeance on a plan 
 
 That her desires whetted. 
 
 So it was natural that she 
 
 Should give him her affection ; 
 And it was given hastily, 
 
 'Though not without reflection. 
 
 Out to this interthought a truce ; 
 
 A truce to explanation, 
 'i'o this apology, excuse ; 
 
 Resume we her narration ; 
 
 The way in which she said these things 
 
 So affable and pretty. 
 As though they gushed from thousand springs 
 
 Of wisdom rare and witty : 
 
 " I said that, at a certain stage. 
 
 The universe was ruflled 
 With elements in gaseous guage. 
 
 In which they moved and shuffled. 
 
 In time, a movement rotary 
 
 Became the ragged motion ; 
 Each pushed its fellow zealously 
 
 Along within this ocean. 
 
 Until on systematic plan 
 
 They followed revolution. 
 The universe with spheres to span. 
 
 And narrow their dilution. 
 
 The spheres, at first a hurricane 
 
 Of gases in rotation. 
 Assumed a faster, denser grain, 
 
 And won in condensation. 
 
 Until these globes were nebular ; 
 
 Then came their liquifaction ; 
 And soon, a shell of regular 
 
 Solidity the action 
 
 Still furthered, till the misty haze 
 
 Had burst in planetary 
 Completion, and the starry maze 
 
 On orbit wing made merry. 
 
 So our empyreal shell was made ; 
 
 And with it many brothers 
 Who envelope a colonnade 
 
 Of spheres, for there are others 
 
 Besides our own yet pigmy shell. 
 
 Vast systems proud' enclosing, 
 Who bear the heaven, and too, the hell 
 
 Of those worlds grandly posing 
 
 In other realms of space; and now 
 
 Let fancy rise in vigor. 
 And truth, superior strange, avow. 
 
 And comprehend my figure. 
 
56 
 
 THE INFERNAL COMEDY. 
 
 You saw a system which you fail 
 
 To pierce with aided vision. 
 Confined in shell as if in jail ; 
 
 Of all, a small division. 
 
 Now think of this empyreal shell 
 
 As though it were a planet 
 Like that on which your childhood fell, 
 
 And from its grandeur ban it. 
 
 Conceive a system made of such 
 
 Empyreal shells revolving 
 On wondrous paths ; here is a touch 
 
 Immensity dissolving. 
 
 And 'round this mighty system wrap 
 
 A shell ; to that we wander 
 If life should find too soon a tap 
 
 On this ; nor do I squander 
 
 Your time with idle tales ; Hugon 
 
 Knows little of this wonder, 
 'Though such like themes he's pondered on 
 
 E'en sages may oft blunder. 
 
 Conceive this second shell to be 
 
 A planet in relation 
 To myriad others, and you see 
 
 How vast a revelation 
 
 The universe becomes ; each state 
 
 Divine and, too, infernal 
 Unknown states to a smaller rate 
 
 Must we ; these shells external 
 
 Embrace into infinity 
 
 The systems next below them. 
 Then realize the majesty 
 
 Of nature's products ; show them 
 
 The homage which they well deserve. 
 
 Is faith not a derision 
 Upon the systems as they curve 
 
 Beyond all ken and vision ? — 
 
 And now turn, on the other hand. 
 
 Back to the smallest planet ; 
 Take we the earth where once your stand 
 
 You made to learn and scan it : 
 
 In it you see that nature's not 
 
 Yet finished in its labor. 
 For time will work its contents hot 
 
 Into a system, neighbor 
 
 Unto a smaller held within 
 
 The shell of some revolving 
 Yet unborn globe this system in. 
 
 Still other worlds unsolving. 
 
 Thus follow to infinity 
 
 The thread of this conception 
 
 To smallest mites, and you will be 
 A master in adeption, 
 
 And see between this pigmy mite 
 And nature the proportion — 
 
 Are you much larger in its sight? 
 What matters it, your portion ? " — 
 
 Armillus smiled as was his use 
 
 When fallacy he sifted : 
 " I fear your simile is loose; 
 
 'Though I am far from gifted 
 
 With logical acumen, yet 
 
 How is it that the outer 
 Confines of earth in light are set 
 
 And we're in darkness '. Doubter 
 
 I would not be if 1 could but 
 
 My way observe athrough it ; 
 Still, why are we in darkness shut ? 
 
 Why does not light imbue it? " — 
 
 " Your earth," replied with grace the queen, 
 
 " Has sim to light and warm it ; 
 But here no blazing globe is seen 
 
 To heat our crust; winds storm it 
 
 Year in, year out, relentlessly. 
 
 Without regard for season. 
 With uncongeniality ; 
 
 And you would know the reason ? 
 
 Because we skirt our system's space ; 
 
 Our distance is much greater 
 For suns with light us out to trace; 
 
 Mayhap they'll find us later. 
 
 We are as great as earth is small. 
 
 And greater is our distance. 
 In due proportion, from the ball 
 
 Next to us ; the resistance 
 
 That light encounters by this space 
 
 Is too great to come over ; 
 And so it leaves us in the race 
 
 A dark and cheerless rover. 
 
 The one faint, scintillating ray 
 
 That flies on undulations 
 Through darkness toward our far wa)'. 
 
 In its peregrinations 
 
 Is lost, and does not strike our sphere : 
 
 We see no stars above us ; 
 We have no brilliant heavens here, 
 
 No sister worlds to love us." — 
 
 " So must our hearts the want supply," 
 
 E.xclaimed the youth excited', 
 "And worlds must speak from each true eye; 
 
 Then will all things be righted. 
 
 But say on, love : earth has a moon 
 
 That's dead. Is it infernal? 
 Can I suppose that it will soon 
 
 Be but a shell external 
 
 To systems in itself contained ? " — 
 " Nay, sir, not all eggs hatching 
 
 You'll find in nature. Is 't explained ? 
 Or do my words need patching? 
 
THE INFERNAL HISTORY. 
 
 57 
 
 No ? Thank yoii, sir. Then have I won 
 
 You o'er to my opinions? 
 And has my mission so far done 
 
 Its work ? Nor failed its pinions ? 
 
 \ our looks, sir, are the best reply. 
 
 They nerve me, and they chasten 
 The spirit of my victory ; 
 
 Hut let us now on hasten. — 
 
 1 lead you back to gaseous spheres. 
 
 To elemental oceans, 
 The automatic engineers 
 
 Of many curious motions 
 
 Which, in the course of time, involved 
 Two .§reat, conflicting forces ; 
 
 For thus the genesis is solved 
 Of nature in its cotu'ses. 
 
 'J'he one was the centripetal. 
 
 Which to the centre tended 
 -All particles to draw : so shall 
 
 This force be comprehended. 
 
 By centres mean I to descry 
 
 The centres of rotation 
 Of gaseous spheres which sought tii tr\ 
 
 To gain their concentration. 
 
 The second, the centrifugal. 
 Which with the other wrestled 
 
 To throw off atoms from their thrall. 
 To drive them whence they nestled. 
 
 Thus were these forces both at war. 
 And each in turn was mighty ; 
 
 At poles the first would reign and soar; 
 Elsewhere the last was flighty. 
 
 At equatorial sides the first 
 
 Was sure to be the stronger. 
 And from the other's thralldom burst. 
 
 To make the struggle longer. 
 
 So came it, then, that, 'twi.\t the poles. 
 The spheres strung out and fattened, 
 
 While from the equidistant goals. 
 The spheres sank in and flattened. 
 
 As density increased, the force 
 
 Centrifugal off" carried 
 The palm of victory ; divorce 
 
 Ensued where union tarried. 
 
 It used its fierce predominance 
 To work the sphere's detraction ; 
 
 And from its body off did glance 
 A ring of gas, the paction 
 
 To overthrow, and for itself 
 
 A world to form, dependent 
 Upon its mother for the pelf 
 
 Of brilliancy resplendant. 
 
 And while the mother ball condensed 
 Into a world, its daughter 
 
 A sphere-life for itself commenced ; 
 .\nd thus a moon was wrought her. 
 
 lUit still it happened that the force 
 
 Centripetal victorious 
 Came out the fight, and so no course 
 
 Of moon was born laborious*. 
 
 And such a sphere was this our shell ; 
 
 Its surface soon was hardened, 
 .\nd thus became what proves your hell ; 
 
 For this, it may be pardoned. 
 
 The inside, filled with mobile gas. 
 
 Developed, during ages. 
 Into your universe, to pass 
 
 The muster of your sages." 
 
 Thus spoke the queen, and here I leave 
 
 To rest the wearied reader ; 
 I would my strain no further weave. 
 
 And be no longer breeder 
 
 Of technic' lore. From hence all know 
 Their course themselves to follow 
 
 From modern books in reason's glow, 
 Discarding what is hollow. 
 
 Still Mepha spoke, and .spoke so well 
 That wrapt Armillus listened, 
 
 -■^nd as he heard the queen of hell 
 So speak, his glances glistened 
 
 With admiration, joy and pride. 
 
 And bursting satisfaction ; 
 Here were his sympathies allied ; 
 
 Here roused his soul to action. 
 
 She spoke of elements and life, 
 
 And drew from evolution 
 The pictures of e.xistence-strife 
 
 With startling elocution. 
 
 .She spoke of carbon as the germ 
 
 Of all protean matter. 
 And tore, in many an ardent strain, 
 
 The Christian faith to tatter. 
 
 She dwelt on monera at length, 
 
 On form and protoplasms. 
 And threw, with intellectual strength, 
 
 Man's errors down the chasms 
 
 Of science's late triumphs, wed 
 
 With sympathy and vigor 
 Unto its edicts; doctrine bled 
 
 Where she advanced with rigor. 
 
 And as she spoke, with ardent fire 
 High waxed the queen's recital ; 
 
 She drew religion through the mire. — 
 Of life hermaphrodital; 
 
 Of life as burst in, wrought by, sex ; 
 
 Of natural selection, 
 The theories divine to vex, 
 
 She spoke with rare inflection. 
 
5S 
 
 THE INFERNAL COMEDY. 
 
 She led Armillus through the maze 
 
 Of species, and expounded 
 The fallacy of priestly craze, 
 
 Until he was confounded. 
 
 In brief, she proved the non-divine 
 
 Progression of creation, 
 And made his brow to countershine 
 
 The height of her elation. 
 
 And in these words she closed her speech. 
 
 And cosmic -discourse ended : 
 " Each natural history will teach 
 
 How man his race extended. 
 
 And history itself will lead 
 
 You to your own existence. 
 That is the scope of all my creed, 
 
 For which I crave enlistance ; 
 
 The alpha and the omega 
 
 Of my sincere religion, 
 The mono-and-the-polyra 
 
 Of my beliefs trans-Stygian. 
 
 It is all clear, from when all time 
 
 And substance had beginning 
 Unto the end, when breath and rhyme 
 
 Have ceased fore'er their sinning. 
 
 There is no mystery of life ; 
 
 In the infinite living. 
 In the immensity of strife. 
 
 Of time its sands slow' sieving, 
 
 Of space in its continual growth. 
 
 You are a nothing, breathing 
 A mite of air ; a thing of sloth ; 
 
 Soon comes your actions' sheathing. 
 
 And yet, from the infernal point. 
 
 You ne'er will be a fossil ; 
 With rapture we your brow annoiiit. 
 
 For here you are colossal !" 
 
 And Mepha paused. Armillus 'rose, 
 
 Full bursting with emotion. 
 While hatred in his bosom froze 
 
 Against fair faith's devotion. 
 
 He smiled in scorn at thought of prayer. 
 
 The biblical narration ; 
 Its every point he thought a tare. 
 
 And hooted revelation. 
 
 His glance alighted on his queen 
 
 Her eyes reflective' closing ; 
 Your hearts had thrilled had they but seen 
 
 Her beauty thus reposing. 
 
 CANTO V. 
 
 THE TRUTH AT LAST. 
 
 TRUST you will not judge me here 
 A brutal, scoffing Vandal 
 
 For what remains yet to appear. 
 And what is past ; I'll handle 
 
 My subject with all charity ; 
 
 And if I spare no feeling. 
 The error will not lie with me 
 
 But with my topic, stealing 
 
 Its merciless, atrocious way 
 
 Through worlds and spheres and ages, 
 And standing soon full face at bay 
 
 On these presumptuous pages. 
 
 1 have no sympathy with those 
 
 Against whom I am writing. 
 And may be often acrimose, 
 
 These arguments inditing; 
 
 I hold most sacred what I touch, 
 
 So fear its desecration, 
 Nor can I stop to flatter such 
 
 As meet my condemnation. 
 
 Prepare to hear your fondest thoughts 
 
 Exposed to reason's pity. 
 Your truths exhibited as torts. 
 
 Defamed your holy city ; 
 
 I come to scorch, and not to scoff. 
 
 And shall not end in prayers ; 
 I cast all prejudices off. 
 
 And wait to meet gainsayers. 
 
 You are a sorry, wretched lot ; 
 
 ■At sight of you, I tremble 
 With loathing for your errors' rot. 
 And can me not dissemble. 
 
 I write not of my own free will ; ' 
 
 A force unseen is driving 
 Me on, and so these pages fill 
 
 With thoughts of its conniving. 
 
 Prepare to have your altars shorn 
 
 Of all their shallow vestige. 
 Prepare to have dragged through my scorn 
 
 Your living's ancient prestige. 
 
 I hate whatever you may love, 
 And side me with your foemen ; 
 
 I wear for you no soothing glove, 
 1 show no welcomed omen. 
 
 Prepare to have your dearest shrines 
 
 Despoiled of consecration, 
 Uprooted, and their intestines 
 
 Delivered to damnation. 
 
 To work you harm, I am a mite. 
 
 But still I breathe defiance ; 
 E'en fleas the greatest monsters bite : 
 
 There lies my whole reliance. 
 
 I may not live to see the day 
 
 That witnesses your going. 
 Yet still I chant my simple lay. 
 
 Extermination sowing. — 
 
THE INFERNAL HISTORY 
 
 59 
 
 The queen threw her reHectioiis ofl". 
 
 In memory well sinewed ; 
 A short, preliminary cough, 
 
 And then she thus continued : 
 
 '■ Ere yet on earth had broken life. 
 And its domains were steepled, 
 
 F.re history to act was rife. 
 And yet this hell was peopled. 
 
 There reigned in heaven a mighty king. 
 Well known to his descendants, 
 
 Whose praises still whole nations sing. 
 And thousand priests' dependents. 
 
 That king was Jove the Great, who ruled 
 
 His provinces like Nero, 
 His subjects into warfare schooled ; 
 
 Himself, howe'ei, no hero. 
 
 Tt was not fashion then to take 
 
 A mate in holy marriage : 
 The women lived for passion's sake. 
 
 And were of masters' carriage 
 
 A part, as was a house or horse ; 
 
 There was no wife, no cousin ; 
 Society was vile and coarse ; 
 
 A man had mates a dozen. 
 
 And so King Jove had many a wonch 
 
 His vanity to tickle, 
 His morbid thirsts to still and quench : 
 
 And every one vifas fickle. 
 
 His harem had two favorites. 
 
 Dark Lilith and fair Mary, 
 Who plied him with their charming wits, 
 
 Of which they were not chary. 
 
 And Lilith bore him first a child, 
 
 A boy so fine in feature. 
 So strong in form, in heart so wild : 
 
 And he surprised his teacher 
 
 With wondrous sense and iron will. 
 And heart to greatness swelling. 
 
 And spirit never fagged nor still, 
 Of fateful future telling. 
 
 They dubbed the youngster Lucifer ; 
 
 She was his slave, his mother: 
 But Jove no love had to aver; 
 
 And then there came a brother : 
 
 A gentle boy bore Mary's womb. 
 Of mien and form the sweetest. 
 
 With air that durst no pride assume. 
 With love that flew the fleetest. 
 
 And won the father's marble heart ; 
 
 He stroked his ringlets golden ; 
 The boy grew of himself a part ; 
 
 No fairer was beholden. 
 
 They called him Jesus, and his soul 
 In loveliness expanded, 
 
 Which everywhere about him stole. 
 But on his brother stranded. 
 
 They loved each other not, the boys ; 
 
 While Lilith's was outspoken 
 With hatred fierce, forsaken toys, 
 
 The other's words were spoken 
 
 In tender mood and loving art 
 
 And sweet conciliation. 
 But he never won the elder's heart. 
 
 So stood the situation. 
 
 When still another concubine 
 Of Jove's became a mother. 
 
 And offered to her master's lino 
 Of royal heirs another 
 
 Beloved boy; and Jove rejoiced. 
 And thanked the faithful madame. 
 
 And on his fathership did foist ; 
 They called the third one Adam. 
 
 A spoiled and wilful child was he. 
 And turned out craven-hearted : 
 
 He gave himself to forestry. 
 And from his brothers parted. 
 
 The palace halls were filled with noise. 
 And loud and youthful laughter ; 
 
 When on the ill-assorted boys 
 A maiden followed after 
 
 Born of a wench, the mate of one 
 Of Jove's most faithful sages, 
 
 As radiant as a summer sun. 
 The topic of all ages. 
 
 A maiden you could ne'er conceive 
 
 Who won so fast affection ; 
 You know her well, for she was Eve : 
 
 All caught the sweet infection. 
 
 And Lucifer and Adam fought 
 
 To win the maiden over. 
 Lentil the last her notice caught. 
 
 And warmed into her lover. 
 
 He swore that he would never care 
 
 For any other woman. 
 And woidd alone her colors bear ; 
 
 But then, the youth was human. 
 
 He sported 'round as best him pleased. 
 
 Unto the courtiers' scandal ; 
 His passions to such length appeased 
 
 That Jove reproved the Vandal. 
 
 And thenceforth lived he peacefully. 
 
 And down in Eden settled, 
 And passed his hours most blissfully ; 
 
 But Lucifer was nettled, 
 
 And in his suit the win the maid 
 From Adam's side was zealous. 
 
 And plans for his destruction laid. 
 So was he fierce and jealous. 
 
6o 
 
 THE INFERNAL COMEDY. 
 
 A man who such a purpose hath, 
 
 Will stop at no contriving; 
 And in his bold and bitter wrath 
 
 He set about conniving 
 
 How he could best destroy the bliss 
 
 Of the enamored couple. 
 Think you they heard a serpent's hiss, 
 
 A creature false and supple? 
 
 Nay, he surrounded her with snares 
 
 Of bountiful temptation, 
 And played about her loving cares 
 
 With honied 'fatuation. 
 
 And of an apple he'd prepared 
 
 To eat he her persuaded. 
 So that she fell to him, ensnared. 
 
 With poisoned lust pervaded. 
 
 And Adam's manly spirit broke 
 
 By poison by her given ; 
 Another apple wrought the stroke, 
 
 And there was woe in heaven. 
 
 Hut shortly after this had happed. 
 
 So different' from the fable. 
 The girl was down, in birth-pain wrapped; 
 
 There sprang forth Cain and Abel. 
 
 And while this plot was being scened, 
 Of Jove's three sons the second. 
 
 With Satan's sympathies not weened. 
 On satisfaction reckoned. 
 
 He spied about them night and day, 
 
 And the intrigue detected ; 
 Now Lucifer might pardon pray. 
 
 He would not be protected. 
 
 For Jesus from the garden chased 
 
 To Jove, and told his story, 
 And Lucifer was called in haste 
 
 Unto the father hoary. 
 
 ' What is 't I hear that thou hast done. 
 Thou villain ? Thou hast ravished 
 
 The mate whom Adam fairly won ; 
 In vain, then, have 1 lavished 
 
 My kindness upon thy head. 
 
 Speak not; disgrace dost merit ; 
 T turn thee from thy crown and bed ; 
 
 Thus do I disinherit 
 
 The serpent lain along my breast : 
 
 No succor will I lend thee ; 
 Such is my will and my behest ; 
 
 Go forth, and seek to mend thee. 
 
 But drop the title Lucifer ; 
 
 I have the last time named it; 
 'J'hou castedst on it naught but slur ; 
 
 Thou hast too much defamed it. 
 
 And she who gave herself to thee, 
 Be she from Eden driven ; 
 
 And he who lost her sanctity, 
 As her companion given. 
 
 Be thou called Satan, evil boy. 
 
 Thus ignominious' branded ; 
 Be rape and robbery thy joy, 
 
 With lust and revel banded.' 
 
 And Jesus smiled as thus disgrace 
 
 Was on his brother spoken ; 
 Then Satan spurned him to his face ; 
 
 His spirit was not broken : 
 
 ' Thinkst thou to rob me of my throne ? 
 
 Then art thou sad' mistaken ; 
 For my great fall wilt thou atone. 
 
 If th' empire shall be shaken 
 
 From end to end with civil strife, 
 
 And war and bloody riot ; 
 Thou shalt repay me with thy life 
 
 For breaking on the quiet 
 
 Of my career with callous tongue ; 
 
 Revenge you'll hear paroling, 
 From my indignant bosom wrung. 
 
 And thy destruction tolling. 
 
 I leave you to your triumph now : 
 
 When I return, then tremble. 
 For I will keep my present vow. 
 
 And followers assemble. 
 
 And father, you, who cast me off. 
 Have dealt with me in measures 
 
 Which will expose me to the scoff 
 Of idle tongues' foul pleasures. 
 
 Has not a man a right to win 
 
 A mistress from another? 
 Is it in our wild state a sin, 
 
 E'en though he be a brother? 
 
 He would have stole' her had I gained 
 
 Her heart to my possession. 
 And would with crime his hand have stained. 
 
 Nor brooked your intercession. 
 
 Your purpose I can see and parse ; 
 
 I understand the hidden 
 Conspiracy ; this is a farce : 
 
 Of me you would be ridden. 
 
 You love that fawning flatterer there ; 
 
 To make him your successor, 
 You would use means both foul and feir; 
 
 E'en stand up, my oppressor. 
 
 But you have gone too far, I vow ; 
 
 It is too weak, the tissue; 
 T leave your courtly splendor now ; 
 
 But tremble for the issue ! 
 
 I'm Satan, am I? You shall hear 
 
 That name again, your terror ; 
 And if we fall, your heirs shall fear 
 
 The chances of your error. 
 
THE INFERNAL HISTORY. 
 
 6i 
 
 Farewell 1 I go to meet my fate. 
 
 Farewell, my home, my mother : 
 Farewell, yoii faithless potentate, 
 
 Farewell, my precious brother ! ' 
 
 And Satan passed from out of sight 
 Of home and court, admonished 
 
 To come no more ; if he we right, 
 They were to be astonished 
 
 Ere long by the condemned's revolt, 
 
 So they prepared resistance, 
 And called to arms of bow and bolt 
 
 A thousand swains' enlistance. 
 
 Full many a trusted gallant knight 
 
 Appeared to render battle. 
 And wage a bloody civil fight, 
 
 With bundle, bag and chattel. 
 
 They were prepared, with Gabriel, 
 Their general, to direct them ; 
 
 Their foes were taken care of well : 
 No mercy would protect them. 
 
 And Jove gave to his son in hand 
 
 A trusty blade, and bid him 
 Take of his armies the command. 
 
 And of the rebels rid him. 
 
 'Go forth, my son,' spake he, ' and fighi 
 For country, throne and reason ; 
 
 You shall be victor, as the right 
 Lies with us 'gainst this treason." 
 
 And Jesus did as he was bid : 
 He heard that there assembled 
 
 A throng, with Satan in their mid. 
 Who at defeat not trembled. 
 
 The day came on, the fight was done, 
 
 The heralds came derisive' ; 
 And Jesus in the struggle won : 
 
 The battle proved decisive. 
 
 And Satan fled with all his crew. 
 
 With Gabriel pursuing. 
 And many in that fight he slew : 
 
 Much blood cost Satan's wooing. 
 
 Into these realms of cold and night. 
 
 At his defeat much nettled. 
 The vanquished went from out the fight. 
 
 And here a homestead .settled. 
 
 He often tried to win the field 
 He lost with so much sorrow, 
 
 But always had to flee and yield. 
 To 'wait another morrow. 
 
 He died lamented by the land ; 
 
 His will he left behind him : 
 'Armillus will resume command: 
 
 Let who me love remind him.' 
 
 And Jove was followed by the son 
 Who since the world's ' Redeemer ' 
 
 Has been installed ; he had his run ; 
 He was an idle dreamer 
 
 In all but his morality ; 
 
 That is in truth amazing ; 
 At his succinct philosophy 
 
 1 shall ne'er tire me gazing. — 
 
 But in the meanwhile sprang on earth 
 .\ race whom you've descended 
 
 Of, adding to our might and worth 
 By being with us blended 
 
 As you already have here learned ; 
 
 And so a mighty nation 
 Has sprung from those whom Jesus spurned 
 
 And doomed to emigration. 
 
 I am the heiress of the crown 
 
 That Satan has here founded : 
 You may yet add to its renown 
 
 When the attack is sounded. 
 
 In heaven, too, reigns a maiden queen. 
 So 'tis not man 'gainst woman ; 
 
 I only fear that when you've seen 
 The maid, you'll prove too human, 
 
 And me, poor girl, for her forsake. 
 
 And leave your pressing duty : 
 You smile in scorn, your head you shake : 
 
 Ah sir, she is a beauty." — 
 
 "And are not you ?" rejoined the youth, 
 " Can your charms find their equal ? 
 
 I shall prove true, and speak the truth." — 
 " We'll find that in the sequel." — 
 
 "Aye. that we will, for where a queen 
 Reigns over those who squandered 
 
 Below on earth the ray serene 
 Of reason, darkly wandered 
 
 In paths of most preposterous hue. 
 
 And proved in faith fanatic, 
 Who noblest sentiments fell slew. 
 
 And proved so high' emphatic 
 
 In what was rankest ignorance. 
 And brutish fear and blunder,— 
 
 Then will that queen me not entrance, 
 And we two fall asunder. 
 
 I hate that heaven you have described. 
 
 And may its queen be fairer 
 Than what I ever have imbibed, 
 
 I would not be the sharer 
 
 Of those delights that pin the mind 
 
 On such accursed opinions ; 
 .Another husband must she find 
 
 To rule o'er her dominions. 
 
 Nay, nay, you need not fear for me ; 
 
 I will not fail : I swear it ! 
 Place on me Satan's livery : 
 
 With honor will I wear it. 
 
62 
 
 THE INFERNAL COMEDY. 
 
 Prepare your armies for the fray ; 
 
 Great courage will I meed them. 
 And ere the dawn of many a day. 
 
 To victory I'll lead them, 
 
 To show the universe that I 
 
 Can tread upon the Bible, 
 To show the world the hideous lie 
 
 That lurks beneath its libel. 
 
 Girt on my sword, thy sweet lips purse 
 That I may once more kiss them. 
 
 And in that kiss your foemen curse ; 
 I shall not fail to miss them. 
 
 1 will avenge the mighty wrong . 
 
 That drove from throne and power 
 Thy ancestor with all his throng: 
 
 I will cut down this flower 
 
 That rules the heaven they have usurped 
 
 For her to bask within it ; 
 Her songsters have the last time chirped 
 
 When war 1 once begin it. 
 
 And be she beautiful howe'er, 
 
 1 will no mercy show her : 
 No smile nor tear can make me spare 
 
 Her royal pride to lower. 
 
 Aye, she will come to grievous harm ; 
 
 Her crown shall be your feather." 
 They passed to dinner arm in arm : 
 
 "Nay, we shall reign together!" 
 
 Some day, they'll leave these in the lurch. 
 And call them superstition. 
 
 The civilized on earth soon will 
 
 Be totally converted ; 
 It wants but little time to fill 
 
 What I have here asserted. 
 
 Among the obstinate remain 
 The children tressed in flaxen. 
 
 But even there, 'tis on the wane ; 
 He yields, the Anglo-Saxon : 
 
 He yields to Europe's trumpet voice ; 
 
 His faith but rests on fashion ; 
 And fashions change ; the present choice 
 
 Was, is no more, a passion. 
 
 I see the mighty edifice 
 
 In Its foundations crumbling : " 
 
 I almost hear the latent hiss 
 
 That breaks out with its tumbling; 
 
 I see the towers in ruins lie, 
 
 I see despoiled the altar, 
 I see its ancient prestige die ; 
 
 I see it bow and falter. 
 
 I see the light break o'er the world, 
 
 I see explode the fable 
 In which the faith was aptly furled : 
 
 I see this modern Babel 
 
 Destroyed by lightning in the flash 
 
 Of truth's emancipation. 
 Retreating 'fore the gallant dash 
 
 Of reason's concentration. 
 
 CANTO VI. 
 
 VIVE LE ROI ! 
 
 I HAVE no words at hand to speak 
 Of things apochryphally 
 At further length, and try to seek 
 Where this and that don't tally ; 
 
 I have no space to pour you out 
 
 In arguments the action 
 Against your Holy Writ, to spout 
 
 Upon its sense-infraction ; 
 
 1 have no time at length to dwell 
 
 Upon the contradictions 
 Presented in your heaven and hell. 
 
 Upon your curious fictions ; 
 
 1 could, so would I, fill a world 
 
 Of volumes on the topic 
 Of reason in distraction hurled : 
 
 But I'll be philantropic. 
 
 I leave the world its faith, its church, 
 Its sacrament and mission ; 
 
 I see all nations fraternize, 
 
 I see the sects united. 
 All things looked on with other eyes, 
 
 The naked truth invited. 
 
 I see the love of humankind 
 Affecting man and woman, 
 
 I see morality defined 
 A thing decisive' human. 
 
 I see proud science glorify 
 
 The whole civilization, 
 And former theologians vie 
 
 With atheists to station 
 
 The solemn fact of mortal life 
 
 Upon its proper bases : 
 I see the priest e.xpouse a wife, 
 
 I see rela.x the faces 
 
 Of hypocrites, to smile once more 
 Upon his man and brother 
 
 In honest frankness, see them pour 
 Their candor o'er each other. 
 
 I see the harlot rise from out 
 Her filth and degradation, 
 
 The hell that damns her put to rout ; 
 And fill another station ; 
 
THE INFERNAL HISTORY. 
 
 (>3 
 
 I see the thief return the gold 
 He stole ; I see the master. 
 
 To whom the slave was boimd and sold, 
 Release him ; I see faster 
 
 The wheels of industry revolve, 
 
 And capital and labor 
 Upon fraternity resolve; 
 
 I see the tattler's neighbor 
 
 Protected from his idle tongue ; 
 
 I see the proud official 
 Of his embezzled booty wrung; 
 
 I see the step initial 
 
 Inaugurated to destroy 
 
 The weapons used in battle, 
 No war to break upon our joy. 
 
 To hush our infant's prattle. 
 
 I see society reformed : 
 Its shams, its vice subtracted ; 
 
 I see its prejudices stormed. 
 Its erring rules infracted. 
 
 I see the world a paradise, 
 
 I envy me who follow ; 
 And yet, I fear some strange device ; 
 
 Mefears the thing is hollow : 
 
 For now and then I catch a glimpse 
 
 Of chaos and confusion. 
 Of darkness and its shadowy imps ; 
 
 But hope this is delusion. 
 
 But let us see whereto we tend, 
 
 And leave this speculation ; 
 Then follow me unto the end 
 
 Of this unique narration. 
 
 My task yet seems me but begun ; 
 
 I see long ways before me 
 A monstrous history outspun, 
 
 So will I on, and soar me 
 
 Into its fastnesses, and seek 
 
 The likely bloody sequel ; 
 It is for you to judge and speak 
 
 If to my task I'm equal.— 
 
 Armillus entered on his sphere 
 
 With ardor and precision. 
 And soon decided his career; 
 
 He came into collision 
 
 With sluggardness and with abuse. 
 And with the court's corruption. 
 
 And put his talents to the use 
 Of aught but its voluption. 
 
 He charmed with elegance and wit 
 
 And energy the college. 
 And showed that he was aptly fit 
 
 In the domain of knowledge 
 
 Of statesmanship, diplomacy. 
 And daring legal action. 
 
 While most conciliatingly 
 Observing every faction. 
 
 And as he ruled with subtle art 
 
 The whole infernal nations. 
 He filled their bosoms with the dart 
 
 Of vengeance, dealt out rations 
 
 Of wrapped intent in every turn 
 
 Of his expert devotion. 
 And taught the cabinet to burn ' 
 
 With his constrained emotion. 
 
 He pictured to their minds the scene 
 
 Of Satan's fall, and lectured 
 Upoh the feelings of their queen ; 
 
 He labored and conjectured 
 
 From morn till eve upon the cause 
 
 Of heaven's fell castigation. 
 And thrust in many a clever clause 
 
 To win their approbation. 
 
 And soon the scheme was wrought, and ripe. 
 
 And hell arose to action, 
 The insult with heaven's blood to wipe. 
 
 Resent its rights' infraction. 
 
 It needed but the call to arms 
 
 The warriors to assemble. 
 To sound the tocsin's wild alarms 
 
 To cause their foes to tremble. 
 
 "Well done, Armillus," quoth the queen, 
 " We'll put them on their mettle ; 
 
 The time has come to make the mien 
 Our old accounts to settle. 
 
 You've not in vain been called to serve 
 
 In this our revolution, 
 Nor shall we from our purpose swerve 
 
 Until the execution 
 
 In every manner is complete. 
 
 And they capitulate them ; 
 That flaxen hussy we'll unseat; 
 
 O Satan, how I hate them !" 
 
 'Twas in the royal library 
 
 The twain sat thus conversing, 
 Their ancient rights and liberty 
 
 Most vollubly rehearsing. 
 
 They sought the records of those days 
 
 To help their understanding 
 Of Jove's foul means and Jesus' ways. 
 
 And Satan's reprimanding. ~- 
 
 " I wonder," said the youth, " how we 
 
 The books of earth can enter 
 Into th' infernal library. 
 
 How every mortal mentor ' 
 
 Can find a place on these our shelves, 
 
 AVhen there is no connection 
 Between the earthly and ourselves ; 
 
 I find in every section 
 
64 
 
 THE INFERNAL CO MED V. 
 
 The books I read when 1 was ycmng. 
 Each dear, familiar volume, 
 
 The songs I have so often sung, 
 And papers to the column." — 
 
 " That was indeed stupendous work, 
 And yet we have succeeded ; 
 
 No time nor labor did we shirk. 
 And every mite was heeded. 
 
 VVe offer a reward for all 
 Who can a verse remember, 
 
 A passage or a line recall ; 
 And thus we stir the ember 
 
 Of every scholar's memory. 
 
 And put the links together, 
 Till the completed chain you see 
 
 Here boinid in Russia leather. — 
 
 But let us not on such things dwell 
 While we must soar the higher ; 
 
 A troubled time awaits this hell : 
 We must our efforts fire. 
 
 Say on, Armillus, is it right 
 That you should go to battle, 
 
 And risk your life in daily fight, 
 While I receive the tattle 
 
 Ofpraising tongues, and bear the palm 
 
 Of victory you've wrested 
 From heaven; I cannot stay me calm 
 
 While I am thus invested." 
 
 Armillus colored to the hair; 
 
 He guessed the hidden meaning 
 Her words conveyed ; he was to share 
 
 Alike with her ; and leaning 
 
 Him o'er to catch her by the hand, 
 He cried : " I'm not mistaken ; 
 
 1 am your slave, at your command. 
 To what do I awaken ! 
 
 My gracious queen, my dearest love, 
 
 Accept my life's devotion ; 
 Such honors I have ne'er dreamt of; 
 
 I stifle with emotion. 
 
 What can I do myself to nerve 
 To take the blushing blessing? 
 
 What have I done this to deserve? 
 That am I far from guessing." 
 
 And down he knelt, and kissed the hem 
 Of Mepha's robe ; she raised him; 
 
 Their passion's tide unmastered them ; 
 How willingly she gazed him 
 
 In those dark, burning, dancing eyes. 
 With soul-absorption brimming. 
 
 So full of ardent, mute replies, 
 A tear-drop fondly trimming 
 
 Their fulsomeness ; he pressed his lips 
 Upon her own, and kept them 
 
 So pressed, and drank in throbbing dips, 
 With naught to intercept them. 
 
 And then she led him forth in glee. 
 
 And issued proclamation 
 That she would maid no longer be, 
 
 Nor fill alone her station. 
 
 -And when the word was given out, 
 
 All hell in tumult bursted ; 
 Here was the crown without a doubi 
 
 For which so long he'd thirsted. 
 
 But far from being satisfied, 
 High flamed his bold ambition ; 
 
 And to the multitude he cried. 
 Wrapped up in his condition : 
 
 " I thank you, friends, for your esteem, 
 
 But I have not been chosen 
 To sit in state, and idly dream ; 
 
 Too long have we been frozen 
 
 In indolence and usurped reign 
 Of heaven's delightful region; 
 
 Our honor bears a hateful stain, 
 So let our host be legion. 
 
 To bear upon the enemy. 
 
 Regain the crown of Satan, 
 Restore his ancient dynasty, 
 
 As 1 have oft relaten. 
 
 In armor will you find your king. 
 
 To lead you to the border ; 
 With cannon shall his praise you sing 
 
 In bloody, thundering order. 
 
 Prepare to laugh and toast a while. 
 And dance, and shout, and prattle, 
 
 Your merry humor to beguile ; 
 And then prepare for battle!" 
 
 A storm of cheers arose to greet 
 
 Armillus when he'd ended. 
 And through each eager-peopled street 
 
 The hubbub far extended. 
 
 From town to hamlet flew the news. 
 
 Across the land and water, 
 Its fervor elsewhere to infuse 
 
 Into each son and daughter 
 
 Of hell's domain, to understand 
 
 The aim that was at issue. 
 And to await their king's command 
 
 To lead them to the fissue 
 
 That enters here, that enters there 
 
 Into the regions nether, 
 And whither they would now repair 
 
 Beneath their flag together. 
 
 The sons to fight, the maids to heal 
 The wounds that would await them ; 
 
 To wield the sword, to flash the steel; 
 To battle and berate them 
 
THE INFERNAL HISTORY. 
 
 65 
 
 Until the crcivvii nf heaven was won, 
 
 Until tlicir flag was planted 
 On topmost lower in blazing sun, 
 
 Until tlieni peace was grantetl. — 
 
 Anil so Arniillns came to wed 
 
 His i|ueen, herself her donor. 
 And place upon his manly head 
 
 Her crown, her love, her honor. 
 
 How yelled the crowd, how sang the court, 
 How flowed the wine in fountains, 
 
 How swelled in mad display the sport, 
 How 'rose to rugged mountains 
 
 The flashing lamps, the dazzling lights. 
 
 The bright illumination, 
 How grew in dizziness the sights, 
 
 Tlie glee, the animation ; 
 
 How pressed to heart his royal wife 
 The new'-made king, invoking 
 
 'l"hc fates to spare her precious life 
 I'o frosty age, and cloaking 
 
 In choicest epithet his glee ; 
 
 How 'rose his breast with ardor : 
 How sparkled fine' and royally 
 
 His crown ; how flew the harder 
 
 The jest, the sentiment about. 
 
 How highly went the revel, 
 How went in air the laughing shout 
 
 From thousands : " Vive the devil !" 
 
 How rolled their eyes in maddening maze, 
 How red their cheeks were burning, 
 
 How waxed th' exhiliarated craze ; 
 See how the dance is turning ! 
 
 Ai-Miillus (led at last the scene 
 Which beggars my description ; 
 
 As king, he had there honored been ; 
 As husband, no proscription 
 
 Would he another hour endure; 
 
 And Mepha was a woman. 
 And thirsted for the blissful lure ; 
 
 The devil is but human ! 
 
 They bid the merry crew gcjod-night. 
 And so, too, we will bid them ; 
 
 So let us screen them from our sight, 
 And of our presence rid them. 
 
 And, meanwhile, yet arose the glee. 
 
 And 'rose to exultation 
 In maddest, merriest degree 
 
 Of crazed intoxication. 
 
 They sang to woman, song and wine. 
 They drank and loved and boasted, 
 
 They felt that sentiment divine 
 Which Christians never toasted. 
 
 They outdid madness in a way 
 That swims my head to tell it. 
 
 That wants the wildest fancy's sway 
 With utterance to swell it. 
 
 They tasted what it meant to sieve 
 Bright pleasures from distraction ; 
 
 They knew then what it meant to live — 
 What wot you of such action? 
 
 Hear how they shout, list how thej sing: 
 " While wine and woman thrill us. 
 
 All hail, all hail unto our king ! 
 All hail to thee, ArmiUus !" 
 
 ?THE END OF THE INFERNAL HISTOKY. 
 
^BOOK IV.^ 
 
 opffiS (B®ir(©Wll©W ©IF WIM&W)! 
 
 CANTO I. 
 
 TH K sill iiiid the shame ami vice we see. 
 Frivolity we espy, 
 However attractive and gay 't may he, 
 However may laugh its eye, 
 
 Has yet to appear in culois bright 
 
 To moral philosophy. 
 Be other than virtue's foe and hliglit. 
 
 And bane of society. 
 
 How sweet in a maid tluit she is pure ; 
 
 A wretch who would see her fall : 
 And justice, 'though slow, how good 'tis sure : 
 
 A fnol who would end its thrall. 
 
 Who loves lint to see the sky wlien blue, 
 Tile meadows and woods when green, 
 
 The sun when it sets in golden hue, 
 A sight when is bright the scene '! 
 
 'Tis good that the wrong some love, 's luit right, 
 And good that all right 's not wrong, 
 
 That virtue is fair unto the sight. 
 And error is masked not long. 
 
 We love what is good to keep the peace : 
 What's pure, for our family's weal ; 
 
 Nor order nor law shall ever cease 
 While we unto these appeal. 
 
 A nation that lives in unity. 
 
 Obedient to all its laws, 
 We laud for its fame and probity, 
 
 And give it our best applause. 
 
 In short, we condemn whate'er 's not right, 
 We turn from what 's wrong away ; 
 
 In darkness we seek and search for light. 
 And revel in open day. 
 
 Yet must I oppose what fain you 'd draw 
 
 As moral from what I've said; 
 .■Xnother conclusion thence must thaw. 
 
 And differently 't must be read. 
 
 A saying sounds good that seems us true, 
 
 Yet fallacy may be there : 
 *Tis fallacy what I've just rhymed you : 
 
 I hasten to lay it bare. 
 
 If fallacy seems what I'll conclude. 
 
 To differ you have a right ; 
 My sentiments m.iy be different' viewed, 
 
 Infallible 's not my sight. 
 
 A woman is pure, and fair to see. 
 
 And men to her pur'ty bow ; 
 She claims on that strength society 
 
 Shiiuld hold to lier then as now. 
 
 Hut look on the woman, young and old: 
 How aim they to spend their life? 
 
 To not be a maiden nor a scold. 
 But simply to be a wife. 
 
 I'll' ambition we laud as quite correct. 
 But see what it brings them to : 
 
 With an.vious deliberation pecked 
 When silent' they favor sue. 
 
 In order to be adjudged as pure. 
 
 As modest, as learned in arts. 
 The judgment of virtue to secure, 
 
 They play us some hateful parts, 
 
 The girls are bred stupid, dull, demure. 
 Their spirit is bound and crushed. 
 
 The flashes of nature come out fewer. 
 The laughter is gradual' hushed. 
 
 A woman is nothing that's not held 
 
 As parcel and part of man : 
 Her beauty of spirit harsh' they weld 
 
 To serve them this rigid plan. 
 
 She looses her grace to be bound up 
 
 A puppy, a doll to seem ; 
 She's turned from the fountains of the cup, 
 
 And rudely 's dispelled her dream. 
 
 She dare not appear in all her light. 
 
 Her fulsome entirety. 
 Fur fear that to some it seem to bright, 
 
 And stepping o'er modesty. 
 
 I'he poor little thing is cooped and vexed. 
 
 And bred in a silent life, 
 Her feeling 's congealed, her mind perple.sed 
 
 The blossom is plucked e'er rife. 
 
 Her lesson is trick to catch a man ; 
 
 To this she must sacrifice 
 All else, to this end must work and plan 
 
 Until it becomes a vice. 
 
THE CONQUEST OF HEAVEN. 
 
 67 
 
 A woman ili.u's lirilliant is abused 
 As simictliinji that 's not quite straight; 
 
 She stands 'fore the world as sure' accused. 
 And looses beneath its weight. 
 
 l!ut girls who are laced in wrong ideas 
 
 Of hideous propriety, 
 'Though secretly they may far from please. 
 
 And have not a spark of glee, 
 
 Wlio play on the piano, sing a song. 
 
 Can dance, and be silent, dull. 
 Are weary and languid all day long. 
 
 Their temper not seen, and lull. 
 
 Who prattle a tongue that's not their t>\y\\. 
 
 Embroider a trifle, draw, 
 To virtues domestic slightly prone. 
 
 Whatever may be their flaw, — 
 
 Are those that are called the gems of youth, 
 
 The models and trumps of girls, 
 In face of full sense, delight and truth, 
 
 A creature of stays and curls. 
 
 But those who resplendent' shine and flash. 
 
 Reflecting their beauty, wit. 
 Displaying their vigor, girlish dash. 
 
 Who gaily throu.gh vision flit, 
 
 'Though they be endowed with wondrous love. 
 
 Be learned in whatever art, 
 Be true to the inner sterling'core. 
 
 And swell with a splendid heart. 
 
 The verdict 's against them : they 're too free; 
 
 Come down with the dash, they say : 
 You seem not to have us probity ; 
 
 Go fall on your knees, and pray. 
 
 And rather than woman be of wa.\, 
 
 I'd see her composed of sin ; 
 And rather than see her spirit lax, 
 
 I'd see it to rot within. 
 
 I like not a harlot : wrong me not : 
 
 That thing is too foul for sight. 
 Too shocking a sore, too dark a lilot. 
 
 Too sickening to see in light. 
 
 But hate do I well a dressed-up doll, 
 
 A victim of mothers' schemes. 
 Taught blabber as is a scarecrow poll — 
 
 Most hateful of all my themes. 
 
 And ho« does it come that one giil 's dull, 
 
 Another so bright and fair? 
 What system doth here the flowers cull. 
 
 And leaves them to blossom there? 
 
 Here comes in my point : what you deem pure 
 
 Deprives the sweet girl of life ; 
 The system that you denounce a lure, 
 
 Makes woman for what's my strife. 
 
 Is woman to live to shine in arts 
 To catch a rich husband but, 
 
 For sale in her own domestic marts, 
 1-ike birds in their cages shut? 
 
 < )r is she to be what may by wit 
 
 And wisdom in life she gain? 
 What odds if she stumble now a bit? 
 
 It was not a woiuid : — a sprain. 
 
 Your girls' education : " Marry, dear !" 
 
 1 say that the thing is wrong ; 
 Much better we stood of altar clear : 
 
 So run on, infernal song ! 
 
 Kilt then there's the nationality 
 
 Which claims in these thoughts a voice; 
 
 A woman must bred in climates be 
 Of certain blue blood, the choice 
 
 Of these my conditions' scope to seem, 
 
 To be what is bold yet pure, 
 To rise with the wealth of captious dream. 
 
 And yet on her foot be sure. 
 
 An Anglican maid should dull appear, 
 
 With innocent, sheepish air. 
 Or else would she vulgar, coarse be mere, 
 
 Disgusting her ardent stare. 
 
 No grace can her crown when out of tune 
 
 With weak and insipid taste, 
 To leave her to languor, 's e'er a boon. 
 
 Or else she would fall, and waste. 
 
 But go where the blood and juice of grapes 
 
 Are mingled in harmony : 
 There will you spy humors, tacts and shapes 
 
 That rise with their jollity. 
 
 There Anglican eyes view foul the scene 
 
 Of female depravity, 
 And see in the air infernal spleen. 
 
 And fall with a prayer to knee. 
 
 There woman's herself, secure and free 
 From straight-laced, suspected ways. 
 
 Alive in her spirit, sense and glee ; 
 In sunshine enwrapped, her days. 
 
 The chic that they bear, unknown to those 
 
 Who sour at the sight oi/etc, 
 Who blush at exposure gay of hose 
 
 By chance, and a sin it rate. 
 
 But think not that folly I applaud; 
 
 That burns like the mother in flame ; 
 \t >u must not construe my sense too broad 
 
 You shall not here blush for shame. 
 
 But there in the sunny lands of France, 
 
 I'he vine-clad precincts on Rhine, 
 Where jollity, fervor, fun and dance 
 ( )n holidays topmost shine. 
 
 There woman is wit, is life and soul. 
 
 The essence of joy and glee, 
 A glory, a triumph, true, heart-whole. 
 
 As woman should always be. 
 
THE INFERNAL COMEDY. 
 
 And if it you seem that there they fall 
 
 Too readily, then you 're wrong; 
 The sight, it is true, will on you pall. 
 
 But rest not in error long. 
 
 For there, when she falls, a woman falls 
 
 Into a next lower sphere. 
 And comes out anew in festive halls. 
 
 Not less to some sinner dear. 
 
 All know she's no more what ought to be, 
 
 And view her as her becomes, 
 Depraved, and out cast from sanctity; 
 
 They know that she's in the slums. 
 
 But where the staid Anglo-Sa.\on lives, 
 
 A woman must be demure ; 
 And if she not sours and weeps and grieves. 
 
 They take it she is not pure. 
 
 A woman who falls, falls low : to hell. 
 
 Where never they cast a look ; 
 She's damned; and they damn her, nh, so well ; 
 
 Her aspect they ne'er could brook. 
 
 Those virtuous dames who form the world 
 
 Of fashion as such it is. 
 In bigoted, narrow doctrines furled ; 
 
 They never go off and fizz. 
 
 But look them not deep into the soul 
 
 For fear you might start at sight 
 l)f what to your eye would there unroll ; 
 
 You'd shudder to see that night. 
 
 The woman of cast where thee and tlwii 
 
 Replaces the tii and dit. 
 Are worse than ^r/.fc/i'cs m France, I vow, 
 
 Who hide not their shame from view ; 
 
 Thus, rotten are families to the core 
 
 In Brooklyn, New York ct al, 
 The mother seducer, daughter more 
 
 Depraved than e'er think you shall. 
 
 In Liverpool, London it 's the same ; 
 
 'Tis good that the sin is hid ; 
 'Tis well it is buried deep, the shame. 
 
 Or all would there fly your mid. 
 
 The difference is plain : hypocrisy 
 
 Is worse than the open deed. 
 Much worse if it is depravity, 
 
 Which claims in the dark more meed. 
 
 And what does this prove? What I have said : 
 
 That wrong may be often right, 
 That life crops out there where thought you 't dead, 
 
 And day where you saw but night. 
 
 You think that morality there pines 
 
 Where women like men are free, 
 Where cluster the grapes on aching vines. 
 
 And people laugh merrily ? 
 
 Those lands have been wild in point ot real' 
 Unblemished, white virtue, true. 
 
 But now it turns out unto their weal — 
 And where are, dear Saxon, you? 
 
 They 're turning to right, you stick to wrong. 
 
 You're rotten within ; without 
 They seem, but do not, to hell to throng : 
 
 Your preaching is put to rout. 
 
 You claim to be e'er the champion of 
 What's virtue, what's right, what's true, 
 
 What's faith, what's devotion, what is love, 
 What's unctions, what's pure, what's blue ; 
 
 You claim that the Teutons delve in sin. 
 The French are gone down in vice, 
 
 That you have alone e'er righteous been, 
 And fit for a paradise. 
 
 You pitiful fool, you're worse than all : 
 
 They sin, but they do not lie ; 
 They leave all their virtue when they fall. 
 
 Nor Christians profess to die. 
 
 Your system is wrong; you say it 's right ? 
 
 Then wrong, as I said, bears fruit 
 Delicious, and day breaks out of night. 
 
 Your pretence to slay, to hoot. 
 
 I say let's be honest ; weak we are, 
 
 And much is our mortal sin ; 
 At nightfall we drag it on too far, 
 
 So let it not hide within. 
 
 1 hope that the day is near at hand 
 When vice and when sin's unknown, 
 
 Have ceased our escutcheons black to brand, 
 And out of the world are thrown. 
 
 And that can be done by giving up 
 
 The thralldom of priestly rule, 
 By ceasing on wafers yet to sup, 
 
 And routing the Christian school, 
 
 By throwing aside hypocrisy. 
 
 And being a trifle bold, 
 By setting the soul at liberty 
 
 Of ministers' crafty fold ; 
 
 By living a life without as you 
 
 Would rather you lived within ; 
 No white is so pure as mixed with blue, 
 
 No virtue as tinged with sin. 
 
 Confound your religion, woes and tears, 
 
 Live out as you feel at heart ; 
 Aside with your prayers, your sighs, your fears, 
 
 And play us an honest hart. 
 
 The devil's a fellow you'll all like, 
 
 Come join me to cry him hail ; 
 E'en Milton not cared him hard to strike; 
 
 I'll go for him freely bail. 
 
 I'm gilding not sin, nor stirring vice, 
 
 But sorting from wrong the right ; 
 I've sought not your virtues to entice, 
 
 To put your good thoughts to flight. 
 
THE C0N(2UEST OF HEAVEN. 
 
 69 
 
 1 have not taught folly linked with shame. 
 
 My moral came out in end ; 
 Mine was not a desperate, roguish game ; 
 
 Here virtue and honor blend. 
 
 Then follow me on to hear my song 
 
 From canto to canto, and 
 Compose yourselves well to come along 
 
 Into a new, heavenly land. 
 
 Armillus is roused, and Mepha stout 
 
 In purpose her cause to gain, 
 To put the old foe to flight, to rout — 
 
 Long may they together reign ! 
 
 Our hero resolved to send to her 
 Who ruled o'er the bright domains. 
 
 Their purpose in honor to aver 
 E'er entering upon those mains. 
 
 He went o'er the ground of Satan's fall, 
 
 And stated his testament. 
 Asserted the destiny of his call. 
 
 And showed her his will and bent. 
 
 He did not desire to spill the blood 
 Of those who sustained her crown, 
 
 Nor would with his minions heaven bold' flood : 
 But she must from throne come down. 
 
 He pledged her that she should fare as well 
 
 As though she still reigned alone. 
 But heaven must bow to the rod of hell, 
 
 And Satan's dominion own. 
 
 Thus wrote the young king, sustained by her 
 
 Who shared his exalted height ; 
 ' )ld Hugon, who ne'er was known to err, 
 
 Was sent ofi' that self-same night 
 
 To travel in haste to yonder court. 
 
 Deliver the message there. 
 Its manner of taking to report. 
 
 And bear him their charge with care. 
 
 They waited six days by hellish count. 
 
 When Hugon did there return, 
 High' welcomed, the palace steps to mount; 
 
 Now would they the answer learn. 
 
 He stepped 'fore the throne with vigor graced. 
 
 And bowed to his sovereign low ; 
 A murmur about th' assembled chased ; 
 
 He spoke 'midst their faces' glow : 
 
 " I came to the court ; her majesty- 
 Received me with some surprise : 
 
 She guessed not what mought my message be; 
 She took it in stately wise, 
 
 And read with calm eyes your majesty's 
 Most gracious command ; methought 
 
 'J'he blood in her purple veins woidd freeze, 
 So highly was she upwrought. 
 
 She prorogued her ministry, let thom see 
 Your majesty's hand and seal ; 
 
 And them, too, it touched as fearfully ; 
 I saw it their looks reveal, 
 
 I saw how the horror swelled their hearts, 
 
 I felt they'd fain strangle me. 
 And make me the aim of thousand darts 
 
 If such in their might could be. 
 
 I saw how the Christian troubled soul 
 
 Was harrowed e'en by th' idea 
 That hell, hated hell, should up, and roll 
 
 Upon their loved sanctity. 
 
 I noted the fear that seized their mind 
 When all that they held so dear 
 
 Should conquest at hand of Satan find ; 
 I saw them convulse with fear. 
 
 Yet saw I defiance line their brows 
 Still stark in the Christian faith. 
 
 Determined to hold unto their vows. 
 As likely their answer saith. 
 
 They parleyed in private two long days, 
 
 And left me to bide their time. 
 To notice their manners, learn their ways, 
 
 And study their sense and rhyme. 
 
 And then the queen came to have writ down 
 
 What she and the Parliament 
 Concluded to say for her renown. 
 
 And me on return forth sent. 
 
 Here am I, and this, sire, gave she me. 
 This parchment, to bring in haste ; 
 
 I know not its sense, your majesty ; 
 In seal hath she 't well encased." 
 
 And Hugon was still, and handed out 
 
 The message; Armillus read, 
 And left them not long its mind to doubt ; 
 
 This was what the queen had said : 
 
 " Armillus, Rex. We've received your hand. 
 And having us thought what word 
 
 To say in reply, at your command. 
 Our purpose have firm' averred. 
 
 You misunderstand your royal place. 
 
 And issue in blasphemy 
 What seems not unto your august grace ; 
 
 Our answer in friendship be. 
 
 We live side by side on unknown sphere, 
 But neither in heaven nor in hell ; 
 
 Still worldly is all we may see here ; 
 On this strange empyreal shell. 
 
 We knew not on earth or other globe 
 
 This land that there is between 
 The there and thereafter, still to probe 
 
 Our nature on such a scene. 
 
 The God you deny still dwells on high ; 
 
 We hope yet to see His face. 
 And shall us in ways of life yet try 
 
 To win us His godly grace. 
 
70 
 
 THE INFERNAL CO MED V. 
 
 And Christ our Redeemer you would seek 
 
 As dead, and in tomb here set, 
 Will yet show your wisdom where 'tis weak, 
 
 Unto your condign regret. 
 
 The Spirit Most Holy '11 teach you fly 
 
 From what you imagine right : 
 You have yet in care to live and die 
 
 Before the eternal night. 
 
 We pray you will see your royal state 
 
 Is not what it claims to be ; 
 It is of itself most high and great 
 
 Without you should set the plea 
 
 That we rule in heaven and you in hell ; 
 
 That we are the child of Jove, 
 And you in the line of Satan dwell, 
 
 He father of her you love. 
 
 May Jesus enlight' your royal heart 
 
 To rob it its dread conceit, 
 And show you your humble, rightful part ; 
 
 Repent, for the hoius fast fleet. 
 
 But if you persist you're Satan's child. 
 And we wear the crown of God, 
 
 Your sin will in heaven's archives be filed. 
 And truly be hell your sod. 
 
 We fear not your threat to fight the claim 
 
 You issue in sinful boast : 
 God's with us, will give us victors' fame ; 
 
 We stand by our word and post. 
 
 We're ready to teach by force of arms 
 How vain is your mad demand ; 
 
 Already we hear our host's alarms 
 To fight for their faith and land. 
 
 Our banners will fly to war-charged bree/e. 
 With cross on their colors wrought; 
 
 And if in our blood we wade to knees. 
 We stand by what was us taught. 
 
 Yea, verily, are you child of hell 
 To battle 'gainst Christian cross ; 
 
 With prayers we'll win, and win .so well 
 That you shall esteem your loss. 
 
 We crave not your night ; there may you go 
 You back when we whip you here ; 
 
 But ne'er must your face again you show- 
 When vanquished, where suns shine clear 
 
 To show us the greatness, grace of God 
 
 Who led us to victory ; 
 Ah, iron will prove for you His rod 
 
 In flaming eternity. 
 
 Come on with the legions 'neath your reign. 
 
 In God's name we you defy ; 
 You bring them to be by thousands slain. 
 
 To hear their poor orphans' cry. 
 
 God's curse be on you for what you think. 
 And what you would now attempt ; 
 
 In horror yet will from flames you shrink. 
 From mercy, t'rom grace e.xempt. 
 
 We sully the seal that binds this hand, 
 
 But send it our faith to screen. 
 Such is our reply ; and to command. 
 
 We sign it : Yours, Piva, Queen." 
 
 Armillus was struck, but none there knew 
 
 What struck him in this reply ; 
 His features assumed an ashen hue : 
 
 Nor saw they the reason why. 
 
 For next did he smile, and give command 
 
 That all should prepare for war. 
 To win him her crown and hated land 
 
 Which hell-fire, defeat him swore. 
 
 It went through the realm like thunder blast, 
 
 The call to infernal arms ; 
 In armor and valor all were cast ; 
 
 They came in unnumbered swarms. 
 
 They hurried to place their wealth and life 
 
 In hand of their monarch's will, 
 Prepared to do earnest, bloody strife ; 
 
 All hell was aroused, athrill. 
 
 And when they'd assembled on the plain 
 
 p'rom furthest and nearest strand, 
 .\rmillus him knew that not in vain 
 
 Had been his contemned demand. 
 
 He saw that the victory was theirs. 
 
 He saw the fanatic herd 
 Asunder, he heard the bugle-blares 
 
 That would her compel those words 
 
 So proudly she'd uttered, to eat ; he saw 
 
 Her sceptre delivered o'er. 
 And noted the carnage made, in awe. 
 
 The corpses in blood and gore. 
 
 The order to march like eagle shriek 
 
 Resounded throughout the ranks ; 
 And over the regions cold and bleak, 
 
 O'er rivers, along their banks. 
 
 Through gulches, o'er mountains, moved the train. 
 
 As though it would never end ; 
 Well might the young king himself then wain 
 
 As Satan in power, to send 
 
 His legions 'gainst Jove, to try once more 
 
 The cause so repeated' lost 
 As told in Miltonic, classic lore, 
 
 Whatever might prove the cost. 
 
 How fondly he kissed his queen good-bye, 
 
 And caught her in rapt' embrace ; 
 He saw the bright tears like dew in eye. 
 
 And rolling adown the face. 
 
 And then he was off like flying wind, 
 
 On horse of a royal breed ; 
 If Diva was right, so much he'd sinned 
 
 Him never as now. His steed 
 
THE CONQUEST OF HEAVEN. 
 
 71 
 
 Him Ciiiricd well o'er the frozen snow- 
 Till light came fnnii heaven's domain. 
 
 When thoughtful' he turned, his heart aglow, 
 And sang into hell this strain: 
 
 " Thou beautiful, peaceful, queenly night 
 
 J'hat lulls me soft" asleep, 
 Thai shroudest the naked truth from sight, 
 
 That closest the eyes that weep. 
 
 That bringcbt on joy in dreamy hue, 
 
 And rosiest, fondest bliss. 
 That hidest oiu- follies, sins from view, 
 That sealest our peace with kiss ; 
 
 That wakest at times to maddest heat 
 Our passions, emotions, thoughts; 
 
 And mak'st them now dread, and now so sweet. 
 With ghastly or fair consorts ; 
 
 That servedst my heart on earth of yore, 
 
 That art my companion now ; 
 It saddens my soul, my heart grows sore 
 
 To leave thee behind, I vow. 
 
 Farewell, fare thee well, fare long thee well, 
 
 But fare me not well fore'er ; 
 I long to return to thee and hell. 
 
 Thy darkness with thee to share. 
 
 Sweet night, with thy tresses soft and black. 
 
 Preserve me thy kisses ; 'though 
 I now must e'en turn awhile my back, 
 
 Await me from there below 
 
 My coming in haste, to woo fore'er 
 
 With ardent devot' thy love ; 
 So mayest thou well at present fare : 
 
 I go me not far to rove. 
 
 Farewell, thou still night, farewell to thee 
 
 Until we shall meet again. 
 Anil pray that Armillus may not be 
 
 Found munbered among the slain." 
 
 CANTO II. 
 
 YOU think that my rhyme 's a 
 Atrocious e'en in its way. 
 Its sentiments writ in hapless time. 
 Its morals some lengths astray. 
 
 Von think that the man I've pictured here. 
 And woman, too, I've described. 
 
 Are offals of healthy thought and cheer. 
 Their natures not well imbibed. 
 
 You tliink this eccentric, that is wrong, 
 Most wretchedly wrought my theme : 
 
 i;urious rhyme, 
 
 Vou think to descry throughout my song 
 A sordid, an idle dream. 
 
 You think me abnormal for my verse. 
 
 My characters rate you loose 
 Of natural feature, much too terse 
 
 My fancies, or too obtuse. 
 
 \'ou read of a man who 's not like those 
 
 You see in your daily life, 
 A woman who is not all the prose 
 
 You seek for in child and wife. 
 
 You see men engaged in heinous deeds, 
 And women who shock your sight. 
 
 In manner that no compassion pleads. 
 On others and selves a blight. 
 
 You read of a rape or other crime. 
 And shudder as if you thought 
 
 In no conditions of place and time 
 You such dreadful thing had wrought. 
 
 You hear of the foU'es of humankind 
 
 And think of them as if you 
 Could ne'er be so false, so weak, so blind, 
 
 Nor turn from the right and true. 
 
 You wonder at things you read each day 
 
 As if you were angel-bred ; 
 You smile at the claims of fiction's sway 
 
 When lovers .and maids are wed. 
 
 When villians intrigue and deftly plot. 
 
 As if it were all romance, 
 As if there exist' no human blot. 
 
 There was no such thing as chance. 
 
 And when you in papers read of sin. 
 
 Of horror, of crime, of death. 
 You marvel that in the heart within 
 
 There lives such a foetid breath. 
 
 Not strange nor so much perverse are you ; 
 
 You're human ; and so are they 
 Who write you in .such a dreadful hue, 
 
 .■Vnd chant an infernal lay. 
 
 Remember that man 's the tenement 
 Of all that's debased and false. 
 
 Of all that's on truth and honor bent. 
 Of all that at nothing halts. 
 
 I am not at all of other blood 
 Than you, for my wrathfid song ; 
 
 My fancies not flow in other flood 
 Than that which bears you along. 
 
 My hero is cast in human form ; 
 
 I know of a man, his like ; 
 The passion that sweeps him like a storm 
 
 Bears others upon its pike. 
 
 My heroine not differs from her sex 
 
 In many examples cast. 
 Nor see I wherefore she should perplex. 
 
 Nor why you should stand aghast. 
 
72 
 
 THE INFERNAL COMEDY. 
 
 The fiction that whets our appetite 
 
 For further fantastic plots, 
 Is less unlikely than what you sight 
 
 In palaces, pens and cots. 
 
 Each man lives a life he deems that he 
 
 Experiences here alone. 
 Each woman a strife to which thinlcs she 
 
 Herself but of all is prone. 
 
 These lives were as great, as nobly writ, 
 
 As dread and as black of tint. 
 If only the proper chance would flit 
 
 About them to rouse their dint. 
 
 Temptation to sin not comes to all. 
 
 And so some abound as pure 
 Who would, were they tempted, deep, deep fall ; 
 
 You'll grant me that truth, I'm sure. 
 
 Napoleons there live in humble hearts 
 
 Who want but the chance to rise : 
 They sally along in graceless parts 
 
 Unnoticed by other eyes. 
 
 A man has the elements within 
 
 To make him a devil or God, 
 An acme of virtue or of sin 
 
 To feel or to wield the rod. 
 
 Men differ in that they're bred to be 
 
 Of other design, instilled 
 With early, parental ministry, 
 
 With varied perception filled. 
 
 Some feel that they own the master hand 
 
 For this or the other art ; 
 Not all, it is true, take genius' stand. 
 
 But all have the thing at heart. 
 
 And all that men do and act and say 
 
 I deem not a whit perverse ; 
 For me they may steal and kill and pray, 
 
 And live out a grace or curse : 
 
 I mean to assert that man can ne'er 
 
 Astonish me with his acts ; 
 A man is but human; it is there 
 
 Behold I the germ of facts. 
 
 .So call me not strange, my verse a snare. 
 
 My characters falsely drawn ; 
 With them you the self-same foibles share, 
 
 And similar motives fawn. 
 
 In all this wide world all things are right 
 
 Because they exist, and Pope 
 Held never a thing so well in sight. 
 
 And was not a misanthrope. 
 
 Go seek to reform what's wrong, but know 
 
 That wrong is a trait of things. 
 And when you it deal its mortal blow 
 
 And rob it its poisoned stings. 
 
 You alter what e'er has been, and will 
 In spite of your efforts be ; 
 
 It lies not within your human skil. 
 To alter humanity. 
 
 If I should attempt to be as wild. 
 
 As mad as I ne'er have been. 
 The father of such a monstrous child 
 
 That flee would it you as sin. 
 
 If I should quadruple horrors pa.ssed. 
 
 And add to my railing still. 
 Should hold to yet fiercer doctrines fast. 
 
 Run riot with pest and ill. 
 
 Confound institutions, break your peace, 
 Play hell with your fondest ties. 
 
 Your wrath with my blasphemies increase, 
 Sift truth with the foulest lies, — 
 
 I still would you have but think my mind 
 
 As if it were all your own, 
 A rightful adjunct of humankind. 
 
 In normal condition shown. 
 
 I'll make not a stroke to rescue this 
 
 From censure and e'en abuse. 
 From animadversion, scorn and hiss ; 
 
 I 'wait that the storm break loose. 
 
 But this will I say : a fool 's a fool, 
 
 The worse if he critic be ; 
 He'll plaster and slash in various school. 
 
 In folly and vanity. 
 
 A critic's a man like all small men, 
 
 All-wise in his own conceit. 
 With fickle, perverse and forward pen. 
 
 To thunder, to frown, to beat. 
 
 I rest not my hopes on such as these 
 
 To rescue my name from out 
 Oblivion, but only seek to please 
 
 Those few whom remains no doubt 
 
 In questions of plain philosophy. 
 Who read me between the lines. 
 
 Who question me not the honesty 
 Of purpose that here out shines. 
 
 Methinks I can read this life aright ; 
 
 I doubt if my view be wrong; 
 And what I have swept up with my sight 
 
 I .give you again in song. 
 
 I have not the patience nor the gift 
 
 My subject to treat in full. 
 The chaff from its wheat to pick and sift, 
 
 The weeds from its bed to pull. 
 
 It is but a youth who pens this verse, 
 
 Unmannered in poet's art ; 
 So if you at all these lines rehearse, 
 
 Take what I have said to heart. 
 
 Armillus will seem you less a knave 
 
 If he is but judged a man. 
 And Mepha not needs your grace to crave 
 
 If rightly the sex you scan. 
 
THE CON(2('ES/' OF HEAVEN. 
 
 73 
 
 Go sec where he rides liy Hugon's side. 
 And leaves his dcimains behind ; 
 
 1 would you had half his hellish pride, 
 And half of his steadfast mind. 
 
 To Hiigon he spake: " The dawn's at hand, 
 
 I notice its shimmer there ; 
 1 wonder if in that heavenly land 
 
 My purpose will happ'ly fare." 
 
 And Hugon replied: "As yonder cone 
 Of fulgence there stands on end. 
 
 So shall in the heavens Armillus" throne 
 Its glory the old transcend. 
 
 See how in the darkness stands the light 
 Out thrown from th' empyreal shell's 
 
 fair bowels, a column proud to sight, 
 .\s if to announce oin- hell's 
 
 Staunch legions the triumph them awaits ; 
 
 And note how the air grows mild 
 As now we approach these rocky straits 
 
 There yawning so deep, so wild. 
 
 But fear not. my sire, to climb them tlown 
 
 As if they were eartlily refts ; 
 Our builders have earned them much renuwn 
 
 By wonderful cars and hefts 
 
 On which to descend to that bright realm : 
 We'll on e'er the rest catch up ; 
 
 It would not be fair to overwhelm 
 Queen Diva. Suppose we sup 
 
 In friendliest wise within her court 
 
 As heralds her sent to tell 
 That now she must strengthen every fort 
 
 To cope with the arms of hell? 
 
 Your majesty's unbeknown to her ; 
 
 She'll surely not know what quest 
 She harbors in such a knightly sir; 
 
 ^'ou'll leave to my care the rest. 
 
 Besides, sir, you'll learn to know the queen 
 
 Whom destiny made your foe ; 
 She's worth, T am told, to well be seen ; 
 
 So look e'er you strike the blow." 
 
 Armillus him smiled : "Our wife at home 
 Would scold if she knew that we 
 
 On frivolous pleasure were to roam. 
 While silent and sad is she. 
 
 She's jealous, I fear, of Diva's face; 
 
 They tell me that beauty sits 
 Upon it, and regal, melting grace. 
 
 While goldenest sunshine flits 
 
 Around and within the tresses fair : 
 
 If rumor here speak the truth. 
 Then Mepha may well concern it bear, 
 
 For beauty love I, in sooth. 
 
 But love is a thing I ne'er could feel 
 For one who is thus endowed 
 
 With faith which I must and dn 
 As ne'er by myself avowed. 
 
 epcal 
 
 Vet will I this paragon observe. 
 
 And see if so fair she be; 
 To 'scape from the charms will I me nerve. 
 
 And think that my foe is she. 
 
 Come hither, thou page : thee backward hie, 
 
 And say that we go ahead ; 
 And ere we command their arms to try, 
 
 No blood must in heaven be shed. 
 
 Let's haste, my old friend, now he is gone 
 
 To bear my behest to them 
 Who led my dark arms to conquest on ; 
 
 Here have we now gained the hem 
 
 Of hell's wide domains. Hallo there, swain, 
 
 Await us to tread thy car : 
 This day we must be in heaven, I wain ; 
 
 The way, as I hear, 's not far." 
 
 The briefest delay, and off were they 
 
 The rocky defile adown ; 
 And nearer and nearer came the day, 
 
 And nigher the heavenly crown. 
 
 Here happened a wonder to the king : 
 The train thundered down the steep 
 
 With slackening speed, nor failed to bring 
 Concern and amazement deep. 
 
 The vertical horizontal seemed, 
 
 A level became the fall. 
 But when upon heaven's fair fields they beamed. 
 
 The sight there explained it all : 
 
 For once more they righted, turned about, 
 
 And then did Armillus learn 
 That gravity thrice had in their route 
 
 Been different, and changed at turn 
 
 Of hell to the chasm, chasm to heaven; 
 
 That gravity centred in 
 Th' empyreal shell, and had him given 
 
 Sensation he ne'er had seen. 
 
 They shot into light, the brimming light 
 
 That dwells in a summer zone : 
 Their hearts beat anew within the sight. 
 
 As used to the dark alone. 
 
 How different the scene, how mild the air, 
 How green were the woods around ; 
 
 So bounteous a nature had he ne'er 
 Yet seen. What melodious sound. 
 
 The singing of birds ; how deep' they thrilled 
 
 Armillus into the soul ; 
 Tt softened his heart ; he fain had willed 
 
 To turn from the bloody goal. 
 
 How shone through the green the sea so blue 
 
 As though it had ne'er seen gales ; 
 How scudded the ships, and passed review. 
 
 How gleamed in the light the sails. 
 
74 
 
 THE INFERNAL COMEDY. 
 
 And now came a valley, peaceful, still, 
 Sweet" nestling among the mounts. 
 
 Traversed by a rippling, sparkling rill : 
 How gaily its course it flounts. 
 
 Here broken by rocks, there held by twigs. 
 
 Here eddied by unseen pools, 
 And carrying onward tiny rigs 
 
 Of verdure, or splashing schools 
 
 Of silvery fishes — then the scene 
 Was changed in a moment's flash ; 
 
 There came an extent of endless green, 
 And o'er it they rumbling dash. 
 
 Armillus looked up into the sky. 
 
 And wondered to see not one, 
 But thousands of orbs, to beautify 
 
 The country they over-run. 
 
 It was as he e'er had tutored been 
 
 While yet in his dark domain : 
 The shell was lit up by suns within 
 
 Which myriads of systems reign. 
 
 Some flashed with a face that blinded sight 
 Which caught but an instant's glance ; 
 
 And others, far off, gave lesser light. 
 Or sent but a ray by chance. 
 
 And as he yet looked, a village passed 
 Them by, in their headlong course ; 
 
 The look that upon Hugon cast 
 Struck t'other as strange, perforce. 
 
 He scowled when the steeple of a church 
 
 Unwillingly met his eye ; 
 And other concern his glances search 
 
 As madly they dashed it by. 
 
 Armillus him hardened in his heart, 
 
 And hated the land that bore 
 Within its society such a part ; 
 
 It scorched him unto the core : 
 
 "Out on you, vile fanatics, fools and knaves 
 
 That keep such a faith as this. 
 And carry it e'en beyond your graves. 
 
 When here in fair heaven you miss 
 
 The Trinity you adored on earth. 
 
 The glory you sighted here. 
 The bliss that awaited heavenly birth. 
 
 The welcoming angels cheer. 
 
 I paused for a while ere I would raise 
 My sword to attack your peace. 
 
 But now you have wounded thus my gaze, 
 I'll not for a moment cease, 
 
 When onoe I've begun, to do you harm. 
 
 To fell to the last your race ; 
 So may you come on, your legions arm ; 
 
 Defy will I you to face. 
 
 And scatter your corpses o'er the plain 
 As though they were mown grass blades. 
 
 And blood shall the verdure 'round you stain 
 Till pestilence haunt these glades. 
 
 A day but I'll wait to tell your queen 
 
 Armillus has come to fight. 
 And leave her to sorrow o'er the scene 
 
 To which she'd no title, right 
 
 To reign. May she fair as sunlight be. 
 She shall not me move my will ; 
 
 My Mepha is far too dear to me ; 
 Of vengeance she '11 have her fill." 
 
 Alas for the words ; his heart beat high ; 
 
 It grieved for what here he'd said. 
 It gave to his cruel boast the lie ; 
 
 'Twas filled with an unknown dread. 
 
 CANTO III. 
 
 THE QUEEN OH HEAVE.V. 
 
 METHINKS that 1 saw you smile, when I 
 Have read you of things sublime. 
 At words not alwaj' in poet's eye 
 Nor introduced oft in rhyme, 
 
 At terms scientific, theories 
 
 Of modern demand, and thought 
 That with the didactic sole' agrees. 
 
 In sturdy expression wrought. 
 
 1 ask you : is poetry the same 
 
 It was in the days of yore 
 When minstrels to mart it off there came 
 
 Their mistress or king before. 
 
 And sang about gallant knights, fair maids. 
 Of dragons' and monsters' keeps. 
 
 Of robbers engaged in bloody raids. 
 Of charges in gallant leaps'.' 
 
 Of armor, of bow-strings, lances, shields. 
 
 Of helmets and trusty blades, 
 Of gory and fiery battle fields, 
 
 Of castles and rich arcades? 
 
 Of woodcraft, of witches, goblins dread. 
 
 Of ballads and twanging lyres. 
 Of banners, of might, and nuptial bed, 
 
 Of valiant and faithful squires? 
 
 Is that not a poem which not sings 
 
 Of such now enfossiled themes? 
 A paean not that which no more rings 
 
 With such long forgotten dreams? 
 
 Must verses be 'strict' to love and war, 
 
 To flowers and knightly deeds, 
 To chivalry, clumsy ancient lore, 
 
 To sentiment, foolish creeds ? 
 
THE CONQUEST OF HEAVEN. 
 
 75 
 
 C:iii poems iiol licar llie llic-im-s of tho\ii;hls 
 
 Of modern coiueil, design : 
 Discuss the vain follies, ruinous tons 
 
 Of matters in social line, 
 
 Philosophy, science, history. 
 
 Cosmogony, life and law : 
 Kxamine the natural mystery : 
 
 From such its conclusions ilrau ? 
 
 Were Pope but a bard had he but writ 
 
 His essay on man, were spent 
 To purposelessness his caustic wit. 
 
 His practical sentiment':' 
 
 \'oiu' answer I pass: it suits my style 
 To bring you in rhyth' and rhyme 
 
 My topic in modern rank and file, 
 To bow to the thought of time. 
 
 1 write not of threadbare subjects here. 
 
 And follow will not your verse 
 In similar radiance, cast off gear, 
 
 To merit my public's curse. 
 
 Accustom yourselves to words I bring 
 
 In metre to speak my will, 
 And listen to terms in which I sing 
 
 As though they had by-gone thrill. 
 
 Didactic I'll be at times, I know, 
 But that must not hurt the rest : 
 
 I feel for my topic all the glow- 
 Contained in the minstrel's zest. 
 
 Armillus may not a hero be 
 
 For whom you would pant and sigh. 
 But now is the sign of poesy 
 
 Quite aught than in days gone by. 
 
 Vou see him in heaven on purpose bent 
 
 Its glory to fell destroy. 
 The treachery ancient to resent, 
 
 To INIepha's eternal joy. 
 
 He went to the city where the queen 
 Held court with her saintly band : 
 
 Incognito came he on the scene 
 To view him that sunlit land. 
 
 What Paris in hell was throne and crown. 
 Was London in heaven, he found : 
 
 Appropriate even to renown, 
 The centie of priestly ground 
 
 In Protestant sense ; heaven had its Rome, 
 But Diva was queen for atight ; 
 
 Her gospel had proved the rod of home. 
 And so were her subjects taught. 
 
 Armillus soon learned that th' older church 
 Was loathe to then aid the new, 
 
 But could not well leave it in the lurch 
 'Gainst Satan's infernal crew, 
 
 So sent on its knights to aid the cause. 
 And then to dispute the crown 
 
 With Diva for making heavenly laws, 
 .\nd trod the usurper down. 
 
 Armillus and Hugon 'rived at court 
 
 As messengers sent from hell 
 I'd bring her the sense of their retort 
 
 To what she had writ' so well. 
 
 When hardly announced, they were received 
 
 In presence of majesty ; 
 The answer, she said, her sorely grieved : 
 
 To war she could not agree. 
 
 And yet she nuist stand in her defence. 
 
 And give them an eye for eye ; 
 So might they come on, and fight commence ; 
 
 She 'd triumph or she would die. 
 
 And as she thus spoke, Armillus turned 
 
 His looks from her own away : 
 She saw not his cheeks how red they btirned. 
 
 And brought to an end her say. 
 
 And Hugon bowed low to take the word 
 
 And carry it to his king. 
 To tell him what he had seen and heard. 
 
 In arms her his will to bring. 
 
 He sorrowed to think that one so young. 
 
 So wondrously bright and fair, 
 Should thus of her crown and throne be wrung. 
 
 And bitter defeat her bear. 
 
 For Diva looked not a thing to spite. 
 
 But rather to dearly love : 
 He fain would him draw from out the fight. 
 
 Return to his hell above. 
 
 She was but a girl, but glorious girl. 
 
 With sunniest, softest hair ; 
 Of all of her sex the brightest pearl : 
 
 How sad she should ill her fare. 
 
 The brow was as smooth as marble block. 
 
 The eye was so loving' brown 
 Nor looked not a glance that served to mock, 
 
 To go with a telling frown : 
 
 It looked like a fawn's, and struck the heart 
 
 With tenderest chivalry ; 
 It looked it could never prove the dart 
 
 Of him that enjoyed its glee. 
 
 The cheeks were a trifle fine and pale, 
 But raised her rare charm to height ; 
 
 Those lips Hugon seemed as though no tale 
 Could issue their bloom to blight. 
 
 The chin was as childish as could be, 
 And warded oflf thoughts of guile ; 
 
 The form was a gem of symmetry ; 
 You melted to see her smile. 
 
 Her voice was as silver from a bell, 
 
 As though it an angel owned ; 
 The heart in her boson seemed to swell 
 
 As full as those sounds sweet' toned. 
 
76 
 
 THE INFERNAL COMED V. 
 
 The soul that enwrapped that woman fair. 
 
 That spoke in her every grace, 
 Seemed more than a goddess' gift and share 
 
 Than held in a mortal's face. 
 
 Armillus was shaken Hke a reed ; 
 
 It looked as his heart would burst. 
 Nor seemed him her presence then a heed : 
 
 Though look up, his eye not durst. 
 
 She wondered to see that manly form 
 
 Thus taken with unsuppressed 
 Emotion and fiercest passions' storm ; 
 
 Her mhid not the cause yet guessed. 
 
 When Hugou turned 'round to leave the hall, 
 
 Armillus not stirred a limb ; 
 He saw on his friend the cm-tain fall, 
 
 And yet he not followed him, . 
 
 But turned on the queen a maddened face, 
 
 And caught her in blazing eye : 
 And Diva fell back a startled pace, 
 
 And sounded a painful cry. 
 
 Emotion brought beauty on that cheek 
 
 And into those flashing orbs 
 No stylus can 'grave, no tongue can speak. 
 
 No Venus in grace absorbs. 
 
 She turned from the king of hell as thonijh 
 
 She stood in the sight of pest, 
 Yet did she his office far from know. 
 
 And still did her looks invest 
 
 This man with the attributes cf all 
 
 That seemed her of bad repute. 
 So did she in haste from him back fall. 
 
 Aversion her glances shoot. 
 
 " Methought," she addressed him with, " that you 
 
 Would seek an abode with those 
 Who deem themselves part of Satan's crew ; 
 
 I wonder not thus you chose. 
 
 You know that I hate your very sight — 
 
 Then why do you seek me out ? 
 Return to your wrong and shame and night. 
 
 Your sacrilege, sinful doubt." 
 
 Armillus recovered sense and speech : 
 
 ■' Your majesty, let me say 
 That you I believed without my reach, 
 
 And ne'er in my humble way. 
 
 I knew not that she I loved on earth. 
 In heaven here doth rule a queen " 
 
 " Enough; you mistake my crown and worth. 
 And miscomprehend the scene. 
 
 Our audience is over ; leave us, sir; 
 
 Return to the land you chose ; 
 We cannot us more or less aver ; 
 
 So leave us to our repose." 
 
 Armillus inclined his stately head. 
 Made gesture with graceful hand : 
 
 " Most willingly would I right be led. 
 And everything understand. 
 
 Dismiss me in anger not, I pray ; 
 
 Let what you onpe felt for me 
 Determine to say me now not nay, 
 
 -And merciful to me be. 
 
 You left me to mourn for years your death. 
 
 Decided my future life. 
 And passed us away, resigned ynur breath 
 
 Before you became my wife. 
 
 Then wonder not that I now request 
 
 You tell me what you befell 
 When you 'd passed away to what seemed rest 
 
 On this our empyreal shell. 
 
 I ne'er saw a face when you had died 
 
 That blotted your memory ; 
 Your passing-off robbed me all my pride. 
 
 My joy and my vanity. 
 
 You followed me through my whole career. 
 
 Monopolized every thought. 
 And left me a future blank and bear ; 
 
 In vain for respite I've sought. 
 
 1 know that your soul exceeds your heart, 
 
 But pity me in my strait. 
 And let us in wrath and spite nol part. 
 
 Nor villain me wholly rate. 
 
 I see that I am your bitter foe 
 
 Where politics are concerned, 
 But let us awhile that fact not know, 
 
 .•\nd let me not thus be spurned. 
 
 The blows to be struck have yet to cimie ; 
 
 Till then let us have a truce : 
 And let what our hate therewhile be munb. 
 
 And put the few hours to use." 
 
 Queen Diva frowned heavily, bit her lip, 
 
 And shot him a graceless glance, 
 And colored with anger to the tip. 
 
 Her beauty yet to enhance. 
 
 Then spake she : " I have no word for you ; 
 
 What would you, I pray, with me? 
 What have I that can be deemed your due? 
 
 In nothing do we agree. 
 
 You think me a queen in heaven e'en set. 
 And think you are bound with hell ; 
 
 Then why should we quarrel here and fret? 
 What would you that I should tell ? 
 
 You cannot me shake my simple creed, 
 
 And I can't redeem your sin ; 
 It were me sheer foil' with you to plead ; 
 
 Then why would you I begin ? 
 
 My heart, it is true, with yours was linked 
 
 While yet it on earth owned life ; 
 But soon was my love for you extinct; 
 
 I'd never have been your wife. 
 
THE CONQUEST OF HEAVEN. 
 
 77 
 
 Ami why'.' Ask yourself if I could share 
 
 An infidel's house and bed. 
 His name and his sin with him could bear? 
 
 No, no ; we had ne'er been wed. 
 
 You trampled on all that I adored, 
 
 Vdii sneered when 1 sang and prayed, 
 \'c)in- ril)aldry evei on me poured : 
 
 What \M>nder our love did fade? 
 
 \\ hy would you once more revive those days 
 
 Of misery, cruel tears, 
 ( )f iliscord and most unhappy frays : 
 
 We knew but a dearth of cheers. 
 
 ( !ood bye. I have said mucli more than 1 
 
 Intended when I began ; 
 Then leave me, for I must earnest' try 
 
 My victory yet to plan." 
 
 Armillus still moved not: " I'm amazed 
 
 To hear what you tell me now : 
 Your sentiments have me almost dazed ; 
 
 I cannot thus leave, I vow. 
 
 Your majesty must take off her crow n 
 
 A moment, and speak with me 
 As though a girl still. I brook yom- frown, 
 
 Rut satisfied will I be. 
 
 You tell me that after all the love 
 
 You've showered upon my own, 
 Y'our thoughts went astray to things above 
 
 To leave me at length alone? 
 
 Ah, vain, heartless girl, I guessed it not. 
 
 But read I my folly now ; 
 Unhappy has been my earthly lot : 
 
 To much did I bend and bow. 
 
 Is love, then, a thing to be cast off 
 
 Because we could not agree 
 On faith? And seemed all my words you scoff? 
 
 I would I had e'er been free 
 
 From such a false love ; from each bright curl 
 
 1 read out a curse at last ; 
 I thought to have won me such a pearl : 
 
 And now I must stand aghast." 
 
 The queen knit her brows. — " Go on," said she, 
 
 " Now you have so well begun, 
 And let me attend this homily ; 
 
 That space have you fairly won." 
 
 Armillus not flinched. — '■' 'Tis well: I speak : 
 
 I cannot have much to say ; 
 Your manner has left me stunned and w eak ; 
 ^et dear' will for this you pay. 
 
 I was yet a boy, my heart as free 
 
 As bird in the greenwood shade ; 
 We met, and I saw my destiny, 
 
 My lot at your mercy laid. 
 
 tjuite other were you in those bright days : 
 A guileless, an artless girl ; 
 
 You won me with all your simple ways, 
 A love-sick, a verdant churl. 
 
 I gave you my heart the ntomenl 1 
 
 But saw you, and left distressed 
 My duties, my home ; I had no eye 
 
 For .inght but fur you, no rest. 
 
 I hovered about you day and night. 
 
 And saw I was not all wrong ; 
 I feasted my soul upon your sight, 
 
 I praised you in burning song. 
 
 Remember the stormy night we sat 
 
 Alone in your island home ; 
 'Twas there that my love return begat. 
 
 And hi.cher my hopes bright clomb. 
 
 That night you asked not if God or Christ 
 
 Us ever might come between. 
 For Cupid had both of us enticed. 
 
 And everything seemed serene. 
 
 We romped by the hour to feel the thrill 
 A touch would produce, and sought 
 
 By various sharp means and clever skill 
 To be into contact brought. 
 
 JNhich reason was there against our love. 
 And much was 'fore me adduced ; 
 
 But demons below, nor elfs above 
 Me could have from you seduced. 
 
 I bore them all down with might and main, 
 
 My fervor too great to break ; 
 I bowed to no threats and no disdain ; 
 
 But stood it for your dear sake. 
 
 I won you e'er reason bid yuu halt : 
 You threw in my arms yourself: 
 
 The sugar was mi.xed with too much salt, 
 The jewel with too much pelf 
 
 You loved me in folly, and when sense 
 O'er-mastered your feeble heart. 
 
 In vain might I stand in my defence : 
 You coldly me bid depart. 
 
 Nine months you endured the absent swain. 
 And then you but thought to fail. 
 
 And drew to your side me on again, 
 And bid me once more you hail. 
 
 And then, — what a broil was not our life. 
 
 Distract' with the wildest woe; 
 Y'ou promised yourself to be my wife. 
 
 And turned out my bitter foe. 
 
 You followed your dreams and whims to end. 
 
 And I might stand by in pain. 
 My trouble you deigned not to befriend ; 
 
 You met it with cold disdain. 
 
 You granted me promise once to be 
 
 In future your better half. 
 And left me unto my misery 
 
 To spend on all else your laugh. 
 
78 
 
 THE INFERNAL COMEDY 
 
 You sneered at my utterance, met with scorn 
 
 M3' wishes and humble pleas ; 
 I often me wished I'd ne'er been born ; 
 
 What horrors on me did seize ! 
 
 Vciu quoted against what you'd find 
 
 To wound me in deepest soul ; 
 To all my solicitude proved you blind : 
 
 Yovi left me in grief to roll. 
 
 At last 1 could stand no more the strain. 
 And broke from the heartless tie ; 
 
 And broke in my flight my heart in twain. 
 And saw through the hideous lie. 
 
 You suffered and fretted much, 1 know, 
 
 But I was dismissed of fault 
 By all who there knew my endless woe ; 
 
 But 1 knew me not to halt : 
 
 I worried until my joy was fled ; 
 
 And vanished, nay boyish glee ; 
 My heart to fair woman ever dead : 
 
 1 rushed into revel me. 
 
 At last you succumbed to sombre life, 
 
 And I wept till tears were gall. 
 For shameful exploit and error rife ; 
 
 I answered to folly's call. 
 
 You left me to curse my later days. 
 And cursed have I them so well 
 
 That sin grew upon me dreadful craze; 
 I gloated to end in hell. 
 
 I see in ;our look vindictive joy 
 To have me thus ruin wrought, 
 
 And make a detested wretch the boy 
 Who ever your pleasure sought. 
 
 I see on your brow the mind within 
 Full choked with its poisoned dart. 
 
 More hateful than e'en the gauntest sin, 
 A beauty without a heart. 
 
 You call that a Christian soul when hate 
 
 Runs riot therein with rot? 
 I now see the truth, alas, too late; 
 
 Oh, aw ful then was my lot. 
 
 But let me forget the grief you brought 
 
 Upon my poor, broken frame ; 
 Enough have we two dissension wrought; 
 
 Die out in the air, wild flame ! 
 
 My interest in you can never fade, 
 
 And e'en as I here rehearse 
 The wrong you did me while yet maid ; 
 
 I cannot your acts now curse. 
 
 'Tis over, ray passion ; but still were you 
 
 The one that I loved on earth ; 
 In honor no more did there I woo. 
 
 And not till my hellish birth. 
 
 Then frown ; still I ask to hear how came 
 My love to be here the queen ; 
 
 I buried in hell the by-gone shame ; 
 In honor may I be seen. 
 
 Forget we once loved and hated thus, 
 And tell me your wondrous tale : 
 
 Then will I depart; and ne'er shall us 
 A meeting again detail. 
 
 We are on the eve of war and strife, 
 
 And enemies must we be ; 
 We never again will meet in life ; 
 
 Then tell me your history." 
 
 And just as the word he last had spoke 
 
 Died out on the summer air. 
 In haste on the twain a warrior broke. 
 
 With head of his helmet bare. 
 
 " Forgive, gracious liege, that I intrude," 
 
 He gasped as he sank on knee, 
 With breathless alarm and haste imbued ; 
 
 "Speak!" ordered her majesty. 
 
 " The foe has arrived on Tartar plains 
 
 In numbers we failed to count. 
 And ever and e'er in forces gains. 
 
 And stretching from moimt to moinit, 
 
 He does not advance, but stays in camp ; 
 
 Our armies are on the move : 
 Their spirits, howe'er, are lax and damp ; 
 
 I doubt we shall valiant prove." 
 
 The queen shot a glance of fretful rage 
 
 Upon the unfortunate ; 
 With such as Armillus in the stage. 
 
 She heard with a sullen hate 
 
 The tale of dismay ; the hell-king smiled ; 
 
 A thunder cloud waxed her brow. 
 With tempest and passion on it piled, 
 
 That caused even him to cow. 
 
 " 'Tis well," she replied unto the knight, 
 " Go forth and let strife be done, 
 
 And God will be with the cause that's right ; 
 Already I feel we've won." 
 
 The herald arose and looked about. 
 
 And when he Armillus spied, 
 He could not refrain a start and shout ; 
 
 " What is it "?" Queen Diva cried. 
 
 " I cannot be wrong; I know him well," 
 E.xclaimed the astonished man, 
 
 " My liege, you behold the king of hell !" 
 .And tumult and hue began. 
 
 The queen grew as pale as snow, and cried : 
 " Arrest him ! Secure his sword !" 
 
 A rush, and the king was seized and tied : 
 " We have him, th' infernal lord !" — 
 
 " Then let him be led to dungeon deep. 
 And burdened with heavy chains ; 
 
 Now may the reward deserved he reap. 
 And see who will cure his pains. 
 
77/ A" COA()UEST OF HEAVEN. 
 
 79 
 
 He stole like a ihief at night to see 
 \Vhat*;trength to oppose was here 
 
 Before he attacked ; a spy is ho. 
 And now we have naught to fear. 
 
 The armies witlioia their ruling mind 
 
 We'll put in dismay to (light 
 When they in a corpse their monarch fnul : 
 
 So God helps the cause of right. 
 
 He puts in oiu- grasp the enemy 
 Who is at same time His own ; 
 
 His instruments in this work are we : 
 This man must for all atone. 
 
 Then lead him away, and hold him safe ; 
 
 Ourself will we him attend; 
 In vain shall he plead and sigh and chafe : 
 
 He shall not our will unhencl. 
 
 His armies shall scattered be like dust, 
 
 His widow shall weep aloud. 
 His orphans shall learn to welcome crust. 
 
 Himself shall be wrapped in shroud. 
 
 This blasphemy shall be punished well ; 
 
 Armillus, your mission's o'er ; 
 In truth shall you taste of fire and hell. 
 
 And mercy of heaven implore." 
 
 ( )ur hero flashed back defiant glance, 
 
 And followed his jailers out, 
 Nor feared that this luckless circumstance 
 
 Would give o'er his might to rout. 
 
 They placed him within a diuigeon cell. 
 And threw him a loaf of bread ; 
 
 The captive bore out misfortune well : 
 " Laugh on, I am not yet dead !" 
 
 CANTO IV. 
 
 A DIVINE FIEND. 
 
 AND now you shall hear how beauty's 
 May cover a rotten mind. 
 What labors it takes itself to task, 
 Atrocities seeks to find. 
 
 I show you a woman as she lived 
 
 On earth in my own regard, 
 How deeply my every sense she grieved, 
 
 My sympathies foully marred ; 
 
 And I will adduce from rigid fact 
 The damnable fruits that grow 
 
 (Jn breeding with Christian error racked. 
 What horrors and sins thence flow. 
 
 There lived a fair maid, of girlish mien. 
 With innocent, childish glee 
 
 In infancy ; now observe the spleen 
 That comes with maturity. 
 
 The heart is a void, the mind a haze. 
 
 The soul is a hateful thing ; 
 The mind is a knot, all thought a craze. 
 
 Their issue a dreadful fling. 
 
 The crimes that some parents thus commit 
 In maddening the crumbling brain 
 
 With mockery for no heathen fit, 
 And driving the mind insane, 
 
 I ne'er can forgive them : I have reaped 
 The harvest that they have sown. 
 
 And with it you'll find this canto steeped. 
 Its gloom and distress you shown. — 
 
 In foulest and deepest dungeon cell, 
 
 Unpierced by a ray of light, 
 Tay chained to the wall the king of hell, 
 
 A piteous, disheartening sight. 
 
 His eyelids were closed, but not in sleep ; 
 
 The mind was but too awake : 
 The heart was a wreck, it throbbed so weak 
 
 It seemed him as though 'twould break. 
 
 What ending was here to his campaign : 
 
 A prisoner to the foe 
 Himself, and his followers mayhap slain — 
 
 Oh bitter, oh burning woe ! 
 
 His armies, encamped in foreign land, 
 
 Would wait for the word in vain 
 That was to the onslaught to command ; 
 
 His absence who could explain? 
 
 Had he not commanded they should not 
 Shed blood till he gave the word '? 
 
 How could from the depths of such a spot 
 His word of command be heard? 
 
 He saw them demoralized, foot and horse. 
 
 His generals at counsel's end. 
 At variance to pursue a course, — 
 
 Where now was a succoring friend ? 
 
 He saw the young queen sweep o'er the plain 
 And take them in sheer surprise. 
 
 To last gallant knight despoiled and slain, — 
 Where now were his fondest ties ? 
 
 He pictured a widow stunned with grief, 
 
 The country distract' and poor, 
 At mercy of every heavenly thief 
 
 Of Diva's protection sure. 
 
 Could Mepha avenge his own defeat? 
 
 Alas, she would crippled be ; 
 The carnage that went with the retreat 
 
 At hand, would her death-knell be. 
 
 His boy but just born he saw exposed 
 To strangers' slow mercy, waifed, 
 
 His royal career forever closed — 
 How tortured his heart-strings chafed ! 
 
So 
 
 THE INFERNAL COMEDY. 
 
 But still there was hope, for Hugon 'd know 
 
 That he was a captive held 
 In forcible bonds by this their foe- — 
 
 His heart with the new thought swelled. 
 
 So was the mind torn with this and that 
 
 To feel and to hope and fear, 
 The rising despair to hard combat, 
 
 His doubts to dispel and clear. 
 
 And hours thus passed on, and wearily watched 
 
 The prisoner for relief; 
 On empty, dark tablets periods notched 
 
 That marked him his joy or grief. 
 
 The liiiurs sped to days, the days to weeks. 
 
 And still there was not a sign ; 
 Had Diva then tired of further freaks"' 
 
 How hmg would he have to pine? 
 
 Had battle been done? The victor, who? 
 
 Was Diva now queen of hell ? 
 What agony sped his vigils through. 
 
 His misery who shall tell ? 
 
 His figure grew waste, his spirit nigh 
 
 'Neath all this distraction broke, 
 .4nd still the blear days went slowly by. 
 
 Nor came there a voice that spoke 
 
 A cheerful accost ; the uniform 
 
 That once was so grand and fine. 
 Too ragged to further keep him warm. 
 
 Was tearing in every line : 
 
 And chilly the dampness crept apace 
 
 On I'eeling, on heart and brain, 
 And deepened the shades on thinning face ; 
 
 Dread horrors came in its train. 
 
 The crust that was flung to serve his meal 
 
 Was mockery, for he starved ; 
 He noted the faintness o'er him steal. 
 
 With lowering phantasms larved. 
 
 The water he drank was stale, nor quenched 
 
 A spark of his burning thirst : 
 He drank it ; and drinking, hand he clenched, 
 
 And Diva's unfeeling cursed. 
 
 He sank as the night sinks on the wood 
 
 There down on his native earth. 
 He altered in temper, changed in mood. 
 
 And wished he had ne'er known birth. 
 
 The hate that arose 'gainst humankind 
 
 Within that envenomed heart 
 Could parallel in no bosom find. 
 
 So cutting had grown its smart ; 
 
 The malice he bore 'gainst Christendom 
 
 Would frighten the queen to see. 
 His better dictates had waxed so numb. 
 
 So narrowed his charity. 
 
 And by went the weeks, and yet no word. 
 To tell him he still was king, 
 
 Was through those confines of darkness heard. 
 His tortures relief to bring : • 
 
 Until, of an hour, the jailer's key 
 Was thrust in the dungeon's lock, 
 
 The bolts were slid back, and horribly 
 They grated, and jarred the rock. 
 
 And open the iron door went wide ; 
 
 He saw — not the man austere 
 Who there in that gloom vocation plied. 
 
 But her he had held so dear. 
 
 Queen Diva herself, with lantern dim 
 
 That flashed a dull ray about 
 And lit up a space to show the grim 
 
 .Seclusion. There was no doubt 
 
 But that she had come in triumph there : 
 Her eyes blazed with poisoned light — 
 
 Armillus' heart sank, he could not dare 
 To hope that it all was right 
 
 Without with his troops : she could yet smile. 
 
 And smiled not in mad despair 
 As if her defeat thus to beguile ; 
 
 Now must he damnation bear. 
 
 She set the lamp down, and shot a fierce 
 
 And cruel, quick look at him. 
 His mind with its poignant shaft to pierce, 
 
 In bitter, vindictive whim. 
 
 " So this is Armillus, king of hell," 
 
 She laughed with a harsh refrain, 
 " You look your so sorry office well : 
 
 You'll ne'er look yourself again. 
 
 But I did not come to you in jest." 
 And as she pronounced these words, 
 
 Her brow was lit up with dreadful zest ; 
 His blood seemed to lump in curds. 
 
 She looked such a fury, j'et so fair 
 
 As goddess of wrath were she. 
 So royally did her glances flare. 
 
 As armed 'gainst a sinner's plea. 
 
 " List' well, fallen king, to what I say," 
 Began the young queen, " for you 
 
 Will never again see light of day. 
 So be to your manhood true. 
 
 I'll put it to test, for 'though the love 
 
 I once in my j'ounger days 
 Was able to give, was yours, a dove 
 
 Not always to love true stays. 
 
 And learns to despise what once was tlear : 
 
 So I, too, now bear you hate ; 
 And bleed shall you now for every tear 
 
 You caused me in girlish state. 
 
 \c)u came with eccentric thoughts and ways. 
 
 And won me against my will, 
 'Though struggling against the ardent lays 
 
 You penned me my heart to thrill. 
 
THE CONQUEST OF HEAVEN. 
 
 8j 
 
 I came to my sense betimes, and spurned 
 
 The love that I felt was false ; 
 And 'though you with thoughtful passion burned, 
 
 You now, in these gloomy vaults, 
 
 Must see that no spark of love was left 
 
 When you from my side did stray, 
 That I am of pity's sense bereft. 
 
 Have ceased to be young and gay. 
 
 You ask what has changed my heart to this ? 
 
 I bid you observe your own. 
 Where feelings of prayer have gone amiss. 
 
 Religion has turned to stone. 
 
 As you hate Christianity, I hate 
 
 Your heresy, and I mean 
 To punish you in your direful strait. 
 
 And vent on yourself the spleen 
 
 I bear toward those who sneer at prayer. 
 
 At faith, and devout intent ; 
 That vow have I made, and you shall ne'er 
 
 To keep it me find relent. 
 
 The hatred you feel for me and mine 
 
 Has led you to storm my crown, 
 To rob me the prestige of my line, 
 
 And hound me to ruin down. 
 
 A merciful providence has willed 
 Your plan should not come to pass. 
 
 Your mission should never be fulfilled ; 
 Your soldiers in vain here mass. 
 
 You know what I feel, can realize 
 
 What actuates me this hour 
 To torture you in this cruel wise. 
 
 What goads me to use my power. 
 
 I feel as 'though I could cause you pain 
 
 As mortal on earth ne'er bore. 
 Until you dismembered, racked, insane. 
 
 Were rotting unto the core. 
 
 This will 1 perform, my victim you 
 
 To die here a martyr death 
 To heresy, ever lost to view. 
 
 Passed off in an anguished breath. 
 
 You start as if these were unreal, strange. 
 
 As if I were not the same. 
 And yet I did since then not much change 
 
 In sentiment nor in frame. 
 
 You cannot forget the maid you won. 
 
 You pressed to your boyish breast 
 Beneath the mild rays of summer sun. 
 
 With hatred and strife at rest. 
 
 'Tis true I am now a mighty queen, 
 
 But I am that Diva still 
 Who struck on your heart no more than seen. 
 
 Now strong with intent to kill. 
 
 I died when still young on earth below. 
 In sorrow and stinging pain, 
 
 And thought me in heaven with all its glow 
 When here I awoke again. 
 
 The king had but died without an heir 
 
 Or relative to assume 
 The crown ; there arose no little care 
 
 To place it on some one whom 
 
 The gift might well honor; there was none 
 
 Who seemed for the sceptre fit. 
 Who Parliament's approbation won; 
 
 It passed the legation's wit. 
 
 So finally did they all agree 
 
 That they would the crown bestow 
 
 On her who should maiden fairest be, 
 And Christendom's precepts know. 
 
 And me did they choose, without a voice 
 To say there was one more fair. 
 
 Nor did they repent them of the choice, 
 Or factions a grudge me bear. 
 
 My heart was my own since free from you. 
 
 And here am I well beloved ; 
 The honor not long appeared me new. 
 
 And wanting have I not proved. 
 
 My armies are eager for the fray. 
 
 And wait but for my command 
 To make all your force a ready prey. 
 
 And drive it from out the land. 
 
 And now that I've spoken thus at length. 
 Have answered what you have asked. 
 
 Collect what remains of all your strength ; 
 Too long have in ease you basked. 
 
 Arise, while your jailer breaks your chains. 
 
 And follow us where we go ; 
 We'll see how you bear your ills and pains, 
 
 Your tortures and fright and woe," 
 
 And while she yet spoke, his chains fell off. 
 
 And brutally was he bid 
 To rise, 'midst his jailer's sneers and scoff 
 
 Who him of his fetters rid. 
 
 The queen left the cell, her lips hard pressed. 
 
 Her eye with a fiendish look 
 Aglow, and her brow aflash with zest 
 
 Of hatred sight could not brook. 
 
 Armillus arose in pain, so weak 
 
 He staggered against the wall. 
 With fever so parched he could not speak, 
 
 'Scarce strong to prevent a fall. 
 
 And coldly she looked upon his pain. 
 And bade him be quick and spry — 
 
 " A sorry Armillus you, I wain !" 
 She sneered ; " Come, the hours go by." 
 
 He dragged his frail frame through corridor 
 
 Aslirae with cold damp and rot. 
 With vermin ascamper on the floor, 
 
 A drear and a frightful spot. 
 
82 
 
 THE INFERNAL CO MED V. 
 
 And finally stood they in a hall 
 
 With import of dreadest kind; 
 How welcome now seemed the chain and ball 
 
 'Gainst what his eyes here did find. 
 
 From ceiling there hung a lantern which 
 Threw 'round a dim radiance there. 
 
 How gloomy and dark appeared each nich. 
 How heavy, how chill the air. 
 
 A chamber of torture 's what he saw, 
 With instruments standing 'round 
 
 That filled him with horror and with awe, 
 And caused his weak heart to bound. 
 
 Full masked, were assembled those who were 
 To do their young queen's foul will, 
 
 To cast on hell's king this shameless slur. 
 " Keep still, my poor heart, keep still !" 
 
 He whispered, while Diva assumed a seat. 
 
 He stood 'gainst a pillar leaned. 
 Scarce able to stand upon his feet. 
 
 Addressed by that beauteous fiend : 
 
 " You see what awaits you in this night, 
 And fear that you want the strength 
 
 To bear what I threaten you of fright 
 And torturous pain, at length. 
 
 I'll spare you it all if you will swear 
 
 On knee, and the Bible kissed. 
 To leave off your heresy fore'er, 
 
 And unbelief to resist, 
 
 If you will renounce philosophy, 
 
 And Christian hereafter be. 
 Then will I relieve your misery. 
 
 And let you go off scot-free. 
 
 What say you ?" — " I say that I defy 
 Your threats ; you may do your worst ; 
 
 Ere I be a Christian, will I die. 
 And hold you fore'er accursed." — 
 
 •' I thought you would answer thus, proud king. 
 But think not my threats are vain ; 
 
 I have me no fear but that I'll bring 
 You 'round to repeat my strain." — • 
 
 " I swear you will not, by all that's dear !" — 
 
 " Swear not ; 'twill be perjury ; 
 You might want to break your word when fear 
 
 Will visit your misery. 
 
 Be obstinate ; we shall see ere long 
 
 If you can bear out your woe ; 
 Your spirit, how brave, how staunch, how strong 
 
 'Neath every new anguished throe. 
 
 Lay hold, and him bind unto the rack. 
 
 Secure him as well 's you can, 
 And stretch his vile frame till 's sinews crack : 
 
 We'll see what he bears, the man." 
 
 And even as bid, they stretched and tore. 
 But he was as mute as though 
 
 All iron unto the deepest core, 
 Yet horrible was his woe. 
 
 She watched by his face till blue it waxed. 
 
 And reason had fled its seat. 
 Each fibre was strung and overtaxed. 
 
 And heart had nigh ceased to beat. 
 
 And yet he was true to soul and sense ; 
 
 They racked the poor wretch in vain ; 
 He set up no plea, no frail defence ; 
 
 He bore out the awful strain. 
 
 And finally they released his frame, 
 
 And gave him a cooling draft ; 
 Still Diva appeared to own no shame ; 
 
 She 'd trj' him till he was daft. 
 
 And so they secured and screwed his thumb 
 
 Until it out spirted blood. 
 Until it was dead, distort' and numb. 
 
 Despoiled of its vital flood. 
 
 And still he refused th' inhuman queen 
 
 Her mad and unheard request ; 
 And still it went on, the frightful scene. 
 
 With crueller, fiercer zest. 
 
 They tortured as it was ne'er conceived 
 In Spain's most disgraceful days. 
 
 Nor could it have ever been believed 
 That woman could go such ways 
 
 Though she be the worst of all her sex. 
 Been wronged to the last degree ; 
 
 Such matters might well the sage perplex 
 Who broods o'er sociology. 
 
 I will not delay what suffered here 
 
 Armillus of this fair fiend ; 
 Enough that she drew him scarce' a tear. 
 
 So well had his pain he screened. 
 
 He answered her nay until his tongue 
 
 Hung out and refused to speak. 
 His body him scorched, his skin sore' stung ; 
 
 And rendered a craze, her pique. 
 
 Exhausted in means to pain him more. 
 
 They rested from further tasks. 
 And back to his dungeon cell him bore. 
 
 Foul' cursing beneath their masks. 
 
 And there the poor wretch was chained anew. 
 
 And left to bemourn his fate. 
 While Diva set out fresh plans to brew 
 
 To heighten her victim's strait. 
 
 What horror had not his life e'er been 
 
 From birth to his fearful death ! 
 In youth, he'd atoned for love and sin. 
 
 And now he was racked for faith. 
 
 He hardly had strength to grasp his crust. 
 
 To moisten his feverish lip, 
 For yet he not felt that sink he must. 
 
 That death had outstretched its grip 
 
THE CONQUEST OF HEAVEN. 
 
 83 
 
 Once more to retard his mad career ; 
 
 In spite of the pangs he bore, 
 He thought he could yet not pass from here 
 
 Unto a still other shore. 
 
 For where 'd be the mission he 'd been told 
 That he would fulfill e'er long : 
 
 If death was now nigh? He 'd make so bold 
 To think the advent was wrong. 
 
 Armillus he felt himself at soul, 
 
 Arniillus would meet success ; 
 This was not the end, the final goal, 
 
 'Though dire might be th' distress. 
 
 And as he there lay and suffered on. 
 And hoped, it well seemed, in vain. 
 
 With features that grew each day more wan. 
 And limbs that increased in pain. 
 
 He heard in the night a cautious voice 
 Through keyhole impressive' sound, 
 
 That made his fast-sinking heart rejoice ; 
 Aha ! The escape was found ! 
 
 But no, for the voice was heard to say : 
 
 " Your majesty, it is I, 
 Old Hugon, who found to you his way ; 
 
 To see you I had to try. 
 
 So have I sought friendship with the man 
 Who sends you your daily food 
 
 And keeps you beneath the girl-queen's ban ; 
 He proved me a tithe too good. 
 
 He would not allow me to approach. 
 But now I have left him drunk' ; 
 
 So hither I sped my cause to broach 
 Ere out my reach you 'd sunk. 
 
 I could not obtain the keys, for he 
 
 Delivered them to the queen ; 
 She watches you, sire, too carefully 
 
 That I could her come between. 
 
 This hour must I leave, e'er they suspect 
 That we have exchanged a word, 
 
 And into our camp my course direct 
 Before I am seen and heard. 
 
 I knew they had recognized our king. 
 
 And made him a captive here; 
 The news of your death they think I'll bring. 
 
 But now they will have no fear 
 
 When I shall announce that you're alive; 
 
 Full energy will they 'rouse 
 Themselves for your freedom soon to strive. 
 
 And aid you to keep your vows 
 
 To raze from her stolen throne this girl. 
 
 And humble her in the dust ; 
 Our banners shall in the breeze unfurl 
 
 To save you from cell and crust. 
 
 Queen Mepha has come to take command 
 And act in your time and place ; 
 
 She masters the reins with gallant hand 
 And shows a determined face. 
 
 So rest you in hope, my gracious sire; 
 
 Soon will you be out and free ; 
 This palace will crumble 'neath the fire 
 
 Of cannons and musketry. 
 
 And speak but a word that all is well. 
 
 And that there is no mistake ; 
 The victory rests with those of hell; 
 
 That hope can me no man shake." 
 
 Armillus drank in each precious sound, 
 
 And fiery his heart did burn. 
 And with a new life in valor bound; 
 
 These words did he him return : 
 
 " Away, my old friend, and speed in haste ; 
 
 Tell Mepha she must not grieve. 
 But gather her strength for war and waste ; 
 
 And tell her I love and live. 
 
 And bid her be quick, for dreadful pain 
 
 Must I in this dungeon bear ; 
 Then say that if me she 'd see again. 
 
 The fight she at once must dare !" 
 
 And Hugon replied : " 'Tis well, I fly ; 
 
 Adieu til! we meet when hell 
 Shall triumph as hither we us hie 
 
 To open your dungeon cell !" 
 
 And then he was off, and silence reigned 
 Once more in those regions dark ; 
 
 His terrible wounds him fiercer pained. 
 The gloom seemed him twice as stark. 
 
 When hark, there came footsteps o'er the stone. 
 
 But lightly, as if a child 
 Was tripping along them, and alone ; 
 
 What meant it? Was not reviled 
 
 Armillus enough ? For 'twas the queen 
 
 Who came to survey the man 
 She 'd offered so frightful, dread a scene. 
 
 Her hatred so fierce' to fan. 
 
 She opened the door, and streamed the light 
 
 Of lantern upon his face : 
 A pitiful, granite-softening sight; 
 
 Yet loosened not Diva's grace. 
 
 " I come to inquire," she said, " if you 
 
 Are still of the olden mind. 
 If you have not changed a tithe your view. 
 
 Conviction you could not find." 
 
 Armillus burst out : " I am the same. 
 
 And fear me not now to die ; 
 What meeds it I live with such a frame? 
 
 For succor what care have I ?" 
 
 With devilish mien she him replied : 
 
 " Your suffering can yet be worse ; 
 I have but the least persuasion tried. 
 
 And am to extremes averse. 
 
THE INFERNAL COMED\. 
 
 But tempt me too far, and you shall feel 
 
 That monstrous can be my rage, 
 And deal you some wounds that ne'er can heal. 
 
 No remedy can assuage." 
 
 And he : " I'm content to see how far 
 
 Your torture I can me bear ; 
 So may you my flesh and features mar, 
 
 Your doctrines I will not share." 
 
 And she : " It is well, and I will show 
 
 You how I'll avenge the speech, 
 That none .shall ere say they knew your woe, 
 
 My boast to defy, impeach." 
 
 She turned on her heel, and slammed the door 
 That even the rocks 'round shook; 
 
 He sank on the pitiless stone floor. 
 By mercy and grace forsook. 
 
 And how did the queen fulfill the threat, 
 How words with their acts invest ? 
 
 She caused in his dungeon to be set 
 A being alive with pest, 
 
 A leper whose breath was death to breathe^ 
 
 Whose contact was foul disease, 
 Whose tumors with putrid flow did seethe 
 
 And horror none might appease. 
 
 In stinking and putrid atmosphere 
 
 Armillus th' infliction bore. 
 With poison infested every tear. 
 
 And tainted unto the core. 
 
 And still he defied the queen, and said 
 He never would budge nor shrink, 
 
 But answer the same till he was dead. 
 And tottered upon the brink. 
 
 Nor did she desist in that foul work. 
 
 But tortures for him devised 
 With water and fire, with rope and dirk. 
 
 In terror and craft disguised : 
 
 Until the poor wretch had lost the sense 
 
 To suffer another pang. 
 Nor could by a gesture make defence 
 
 On which an appeal to hang. 
 
 So finally Diva bid him starve, 
 
 And die like a dog, that he 
 Who would in the heavens his fortune carve. 
 
 Should finish in misery, 
 
 To those an example dread who might 
 Feel tempted to war 'gamst Christ; 
 
 In thought or in act His fall indite ; 
 That honor should come high-priced ! 
 
 And so it died out, the golden spark 
 
 That fired th' infernal realm ; 
 He ended in shame, in pain and dark, 
 
 To nevermore overwhelm 
 
 These heavens with his forces — what a pass 
 To had our Armillus come ! 
 
 The prophecy, where was that? Alas, 
 That voice was at present dumb. 
 
 He lay on the mouldy straw, a wreck. 
 With poisoned and cancered frame. 
 
 No soothing to mind his anguished beck ; 
 'Twas played, the infernal game. 
 
 He breathed, 'tis true, but oh, so low 
 That life seemed a glimmer but 
 
 That at the least warning out would go, 
 His page be forever shut. 
 
 And yet it endured, that spark of life. 
 Through hours and through days of pain, 
 
 Of horrible fits, of dreadful strife, 
 Of ravings and cries insane. 
 
 He uttered : " Armillus must not die. 
 
 His mission is not yet done. 
 This heaven must in war yet conquer I ; 
 
 The cause must be fought and won !" 
 
 Alas for the boast : it was the last 
 
 He made on empyreal shell ; 
 His glorious command and might were past. 
 
 Armillus, farewell ! Farewell ! 
 
 CANTO V. 
 
 THE INFERNAL VICTORY. 
 
 ALL heaven was inarms, 'neath banners ranged 
 All nations to war 'gainst hell ; 
 And brothers met there long years estranged. 
 To join in the wild pell-mell. 
 
 All trade was at end, profession closed. 
 
 All answered the royal call. 
 And faith in their arms and strength reposed ; 
 
 The devil must yield, must fall ! 
 
 Here came the staunch Prussians, helmet topped, 
 
 A small but a sturdy band. 
 There came the brave Gauls in line well dropped 
 
 To succor their mother land. 
 
 The Britons came flocked in gallant file. 
 
 The Spaniards in sombre hue, 
 Italians in gay Berzerker style. 
 
 The Norsemen in stalwart view. 
 
 There came the wild Turk with cymbal sound. 
 
 The Russians in fur out-decked. 
 The Arabs with desert chargers' bound. 
 
 The Indians with head erect. 
 
 There came who could carry musket, there 
 
 Came all who could trudge along 
 And join in the nation's cry and air, 
 
 And join in the common song. 
 
THE C0N(2UEST OF HEAVEN. 
 
 S3 
 
 They came from all lands, all climes and Eones, 
 
 With cannons and baggage carts 
 Aclattering over the roads and stones. 
 
 With fiery and valiant hearts. 
 
 A motley array to meet and fight. 
 
 Ten thousands to rout, destroy, 
 A powerful force to put to flight 
 
 To dampen tlie hellers' joy. 
 
 Queen Diva reviewed the monstrous throng, 
 
 And called the assemblage well : 
 This army so great, so fierce, so strong. 
 
 To sweep off the sons of hell. 
 
 Each city was fortified to last. 
 
 Provided with shell and food. 
 With garrisons from the bravest cast 
 
 To hold them unto the blood. 
 
 On seas floated ships of all degree : 
 
 Fast cruisers, torpedo boats, 
 Great iron-clads, men-o'-war, to see 
 
 No men in infernal coats 
 
 Steal marches with oars ; all was prepared. 
 
 The enemy, where was he? 
 Still there where he first his tents had aired ; 
 
 He fought not, nor did he flee. 
 
 Then was it commanded charge be made 
 
 To see what the foe would do. 
 But gallantly were the shots repaid. 
 
 And valiantly did he hew. 
 
 The heaveners retreated, but no foe 
 
 Came after to cut them down ; 
 He backed to his tents without ado, 
 
 With silence and sulky frown. 
 
 How looked it within the hellers' camp? 
 
 Alas, it looked none too well : 
 Their energj' flagged, their spirits damp, 
 
 A wrapped in some unknown spell. 
 
 Their king was away, and none knew where 
 He 'd gone ; and Queen Mepha cried ; 
 
 Alarm was fast brewing in the air. 
 And spreading out far and wide. 
 
 What meant this inaction? Discontent 
 
 Grew higher from day to day ; 
 Their journey began they to repent; 
 
 Still nothing the storm to 'lay. 
 
 When suddenly life seemed new' infused 
 
 Into the disheartened ranks, 
 And soldiers no more the queen abused. 
 
 Nor played their unseemly pranks. 
 
 Old Hugon arrived in deep disguise 
 
 With message unto the queen ; 
 His coming each heart was there to prize ; 
 
 Quite different now waxed the scene. 
 
 The king had been seen, so ran the tale. 
 And suffered most grievous harms 
 
 A captive in Diva's hand and pale ; 
 And everyone cried : " To arms ! 
 
 To arms ! To the rescue ! Save our king!" 
 
 High sounded the loud alarms: 
 " To horse ! To the gims ! To everything ! 
 
 To victory ! War! To arms !" 
 
 The tents were soon struck ; in rank and file 
 
 Marched column on column on 
 In endless array; by rod and mile. 
 
 Came pioneer, zouave, uhlan. 
 
 Came cuirrassier, footman, cavalry. 
 
 Came janizar, came dragoon. 
 Came elephants, camels, infantry. 
 
 In company and platoon. 
 
 Then hark to the fife that cheerily 
 
 Pipes piercing a rousing air. 
 The drum as it rattles merrily. 
 
 The bugle in brazen blare ; 
 
 The burst of the instruments of brass, 
 
 The pibroch's quaint melody ; 
 In stirring conclave they onward pass 
 
 To death or to victory. 
 
 Then left, and then left, then left, left, left. 
 
 Huzza, and huzza, huzza ; 
 Still left, and still left, still loft, left, left, 
 
 Hurrah, and hurrah, hurrah! 
 
 And noisily clatter hoofs of horse 
 
 On rubble, on stick and stone, 
 On hallowing, noisy, dusty course. 
 
 To win them the heavenly throne. 
 
 And on, on to war, to glee, to fight, 
 
 To powder, to shot and shell ; 
 Then right, and then right, then right, right, right. 
 
 Huzza and hurrah for hell ! 
 
 O'er meads, o'er the fields, o'er rock and sand, 
 Through canyon and mountain pass. 
 
 O'er blooming and over desert land. 
 In solid and singing mass. 
 
 The hearts how they swell, the souls how great, 
 
 The sentiments rise on high. 
 Excitement without the least abate. 
 
 All eager, all roused, all spry. 
 
 And march, and then march, then march, march, 
 march. 
 
 And march in unbroken tread ; 
 The suns might shine down, the tongues all parch, 
 
 Through carnage fields they be led. 
 
 They'd march, and they'd sing, and sing, sing, sing, 
 'Though everything might go wrong, 
 
 'Though this might them hunger, suffering bring. 
 They 'd sing their enrapturing song. 
 
 The foe might be great, the prospect drear. 
 
 The faces grow flushed or wan. 
 They 'd cheer, they would cheer, and cheer, cheer, 
 cheer ; 
 
 And cheering, march bravely on. 
 
86 
 
 THE INFERNAL COMEDY. 
 
 Hurrah for the war, the queen, the king, 
 
 Huzza for the wine and beer. 
 They 'd sing, they would sing, and succor bring. 
 
 They 'd cheer, and they 'd cheer, and cheer. 
 
 They came to the walls of sullen fort : 
 
 " Surrender !" was their demand ; 
 But those there behind were not that sort ; 
 
 They lengthy defence had planned. 
 
 " Then up with the guns, the shot and shells. 
 
 And level the thing to ground !" 
 And bullets and balls and leaden hells 
 
 Made dreadful and booming sound, 
 
 And splintered the walls, like pallisades 
 
 Blow down in a hurricane ; 
 The first blow was struck to win this Hades ; 
 
 Its glory was on the wane. 
 
 They butchered resistance, tore down weft ; 
 
 No stone on a stone remained ; 
 And left, and then left, and left, left, left. 
 
 Left ruins full bloody stained. 
 
 Resistance they met at every town, 
 
 But victory crowned their arms ; 
 They battered the walls and houses down. 
 
 And spread through the land alarms 
 
 That terror and panic seized the foe 
 
 Who fled to be strongly met. 
 And heap on the conquerors fell ivoe. 
 
 With teeth in defiance set. 
 
 The day came at last when force and force 
 
 Was measured on level plain. 
 To battle and slay without remorse. 
 
 Till neither should rise again. 
 
 They glared at each other, while a truce 
 
 Was being arranged that each 
 Might put a few hours to any use 
 
 He pleased, or lend ear to speech. 
 
 Queen Mepha rode forth 'neath pennant white. 
 
 Surrounded by all her court ; 
 Queen Diva appeared, full hate and spite. 
 
 With gallant and rich consort. 
 
 " Say on," Diva cried, " what means this rise 
 
 In fierce and unhallowed arms. 
 To come in this rash and uncouth wise. 
 
 And spread through our realms alarms?" — 
 
 " The question is idle, sister sweet," 
 
 In humor hell's queen replied, 
 " We offer you now a safe retreat. 
 
 So you by our will abide." — 
 
 " And what is that will 1" Queen Diva sneered. 
 
 " That you will revise your tone. 
 Your sceptre of claim and title cleared, 
 
 Our husband set on the throne." — 
 
 " So so. We refuse. Your king is dead. 
 So wholly we can't comply; 
 
 This hand has him lopped his royal head \" 
 " A wicked, malicious lie ! 
 
 But if he be harmed, then woe be yours. 
 
 And all 'neath your banner ranged ; 
 Then mercy and hope no more endures 
 
 For you, and we are estranged. 
 
 Return as you came, with curling lip ; 
 
 Our arms shall our cause decide ; 
 From sabres your heavenly blood shall drip 
 
 If we are at length defied. 
 
 Adieu !" and she galloped from the spot, 
 
 While Diva was pale with rage, 
 And cried: " I'll prepare you such a lot. 
 
 Such carnage and blood you wage, 
 
 Armillus shall think that he was nursed 
 
 With honey and milk and wine ; 
 So shall you yet find your fate accursed, 
 
 So piteous shall be your whine !" 
 
 And she, too, rode oflf; the field was cleared ; 
 
 Now might it begin, the fight; 
 The trumpets were blown, the horses reared ; 
 
 Now providence aid the right ! 
 
 The charge, how it sounded 'cross the plain ! 
 
 Like monsters the armies moved. 
 And met with a shock of blood and pain 
 
 That ruinous, bitter proved. 
 
 Then belched forth the cannons fire and flame. 
 
 And flesh-razing, whizzing ball ; 
 Then roars of mad pain which lines acclaim ; 
 
 They struggle and fret and fall. 
 
 Then trampled the horse on luckless head. 
 The elephants crushed through ranks 
 
 Of harrowed detachments, gory, red. 
 And played them some fatal pranks. — 
 
 By all that is sacred, great and true, 
 
 I ask you, can such things be? 
 Can man his own brother thus down hew. 
 
 And hate him so terribly 
 
 That with their whole might and strength and main 
 
 They hound down each other's joy, 
 Their lands with each other's blood thus stain. 
 
 Each other defeat, destroy ? 
 
 Are men, then, such beasts that arms decide 
 
 Among them, as if they wild 
 Ran 'round like hyenas, warfare plied 
 
 From morning till night, defiled 
 
 Their living with constant sight of blood. 
 
 And owned neither art nor sense. 
 Were happy alone when gory flood 
 
 Came over their wild pretense ? 
 
 I trust that foul war fore'er is past. 
 
 Its measures may soon be fled. 
 The battle last fought indeed the last. 
 
 The feeling of carnage dead. 
 
 J 
 
THE CONQUEST OF HEAVEN. 
 
 87 
 
 See but how they fly Hke tiger cats. 
 
 These men, on the others down ; 
 How fiercely his ground each man combats — 
 
 Is this worth a monarch's crown ? 
 
 How coolly they stand and aim their shot 
 
 One man on another ! See 
 How grows the thick field more fierce, more hot. 
 
 And breeds animosity. 
 
 The crisis has come, the columns close. 
 Now heaven or now hell must yield ; 
 
 So bitter were ne'er on earth two foes. 
 So bloody was ne'er a field. 
 
 At last the one gains, the other falls. 
 
 The cries grow exultant' wild. 
 And thicker and thicker rain the balls. 
 
 And deeper 's the foeman riled. 
 
 An effort to gain the stand once lost. 
 
 And then came the fatal flight 
 At frightfully bloody, dear a cost ; 
 
 It was a disgraceful sight. 
 
 Yea, hell had her won ! " Huzza, huzza ! 
 
 Hew down what you find and can ! 
 The victory 's ours ! Hurrah, hurrah ! 
 
 Cut down every flag and man !" 
 
 In headless confusion fled the foe. 
 
 The flight being fair' begun : 
 Resistance now made no more a show 
 
 The day and the heaven were won ! 
 
 Queen Mepha raced on to London's walls. 
 
 And shattered the bulwarks down 
 With murderous shells and gimlet balls. 
 
 And entered the stricken town. 
 
 She galloped unto the palace door. 
 
 Took headlong her fiery course. 
 With frenzy alive unto the core, 
 
 And sprang from her foaming horse. 
 
 She dashed up the steps, into the hall. 
 
 And up to the royal throne 
 Where Diva stood, all around the wall 
 
 Her courtiers like men of stone 
 
 Full ranged. " It is yours," Queen Diva cried, 
 " My country, my throne, my crown. 
 
 My sceptre that reigns so far and wide. 
 My palace, my arming gown. 
 
 And more can I give ; and will, in truth ; 
 
 And give will I all I've said ; 
 And here is the gift of gifts, in sooth. 
 
 Your husband's devoted head !" 
 
 And shrieking the words, she drew from out 
 
 Of royal robe's purple fold 
 A head ; and appalled, each bosom stout. 
 
 However depraved and bold. 
 
 Was filled with a sickening, shocking sense ; 
 The head rolled at Mepha's feet. 
 
 Who, standing in ghastly, cold suspense. 
 As pale as a winding sheet, 
 
 Bent down with intent and burning eye. 
 And shuddered to inmost core ; 
 
 She uttered a piercing, awful cry, 
 And fell on the marble floor. 
 
 Spectators grew statues at the sight. 
 
 Or fainted, and Diva smiled. 
 And gloated fiiU o'er the fearful blight 
 
 She had on her rival piled. 
 
 They seized on the wretch with cries of loud 
 Resentment, and would have torn 
 
 Her mantle to serve instead as shroud. 
 But that she was freed their scorn 
 
 By Hugon, who held the crowd at bay. 
 
 And thundered them to retreat 
 Or they would the penalty for it pay ; 
 
 So Diva was saved their heat. 
 
 Hell triumphed, but oh, at what a cost ! 
 
 What horrors had not been done ! 
 The next dreadful thing to battle lost 
 
 Is surely a battle won. 
 
 CANTO VI. 
 
 HELL-FIRE. 
 
 ^rpi 
 
 ''IS wonderful how the human heart 
 Is open to fiction's sway. 
 How readily into action dart 
 The thoughts that we reap from lay. 
 
 From romance and tale, from fancy's fields, 
 
 From sketches of human life. 
 From poem that food for purpose yields. 
 
 From story that speaks of strife. 
 
 A man sees his hero here described, 
 
 A woman her heroine there ; 
 And spite of the hits with which they're gibed. 
 
 They gather a goodly share 
 
 Of nature from these, and bide their time 
 To act as they've read these did. 
 
 In eloquent prose and flowing rhyme. 
 In novel or poem hid. 
 
 They like to resemble they admire 
 
 Thus pictured in fervent tongue. 
 And to the same acts and deeds aspire 
 
 As they have observed there strung ; 
 
 And writers of fiction are the source 
 
 Of doings in modern life. 
 Bring action to play, dictate the course 
 
 Of mother, of maid and wife, 
 
88 
 
 THE INFERNAL COMEDY. 
 
 Of youths and of men, of love-sick boys. 
 
 Of ardent and gallant swains, 
 The authors of hopes, of griefs, of joys. 
 
 Of effort in wondrous strains. 
 
 Thus youths would be just such men as they 
 
 Saw pictured in idle tales. 
 Appear in the same romantic way, 
 
 And fill up, perchance, our jails. 
 
 Philosophers, Hamlets, roues, kings 
 Find semblance in would-be such ; 
 
 Some sigh for a seraph's supple wings. 
 Some ache for infernal touch. 
 
 I know me a youth who'd sell his soul, 
 Like Faust, and indulge himself 
 
 In Croesus-like might and wealth to roll, 
 And fling out the golden pelf. 
 
 So maids would be Haidees, Juliets, Eves, 
 And Mephas as I've described. 
 
 Be goddesses or be fallen leaves, 
 To sin with a jewel bribed. 
 
 And wondrous it is that most would be 
 
 As wicked, as bad, as vile 
 A.5 possible, if but wealth and glee 
 
 Eternally on them smile. 
 
 So Diva came out in heaven what she 
 On earth had her dreamt so oft, 
 
 Armillus in all his deviltry 
 When he had attained aloft 
 
 The station he wished so much to hold ; 
 
 Alas, it was over now : 
 What meeds him his glory and his gold 
 
 When he must to death dark bow ? 
 
 His tortured remains were brought away 
 From whence he had suffered so. 
 
 Embalmed to resist their quick decay 
 And laid in his kingdom low. 
 
 A monument to his might and worth 
 
 Now graces in hell his grave. 
 Remembers his death, infernal birth. 
 
 Commends him unto the brave. 
 
 Queen Diva, a queen no more, is held 
 
 A captive in Mepha's hand, 
 Her prestige, her pride, her glory felled. 
 
 Her torture and ruin planned. 
 
 They brought her to trial, ruled that she 
 Had murdered their liege most foul', 
 
 Condemned her to death in stern degree 
 Amid the enraged mob's howl. 
 
 But Mepha requested them to give 
 
 This woman to her, that she 
 Might then, by her own design and leave, 
 
 Speak sentence, ignominy 
 
 On her who had slain her loving king. 
 Had blighted her happy life. 
 
 Had done such a vile, a heartless thing. 
 And widowed a faithful wife. 
 
 They granted her wish as she had willed. 
 
 And Hugon and she oft met. 
 With feelings of dire revenge instilled, 
 
 The punishment her to set. 
 
 In chamber of regal luxury 
 
 The murderess was secured. 
 And treated with generosity 
 
 Armillus had ne'er endured. 
 
 And Mepha and Hugon entered there 
 To tell her what they 'd decreed; 
 
 They found her on knee, at silent prayer. 
 Indulging in faith and creed. 
 
 Queen Mepha grew crimson, as, in scorn 
 
 She bid the fair captive rise : 
 " I wished that I never had been born 
 
 Since you have bedimmed my eyes. 
 
 You drove in the rapier to the hilt ; 
 
 What prayer can your crime condole? 
 How dare you approach a God when guilt 
 
 So heavily burds your soul ? 
 
 Then up, lest my wrath be not aroused 
 
 To visit on you the pain 
 You have in my king, my husband housed. 
 
 So pitiful', monstrous' slain. 
 
 You know what your judges granted me : 
 
 That I should decide yovir fate ; 
 I come to impart you my decree. 
 
 How highly your crime I rate. 
 
 I offer you freedom, station, gold 
 
 If you will forswear your creed. 
 Your faith a confess delusion hold. 
 
 Its tenets in heaven stampede. 
 
 Refuse, and I give jou o'er to death : 
 
 So have you Armillus told : 
 I utter the words in like fell breath, 
 
 My arms for an answer fold." 
 
 Then Diva arose, th' unruffled brow 
 
 As set and as pale as though 
 It changed into spotless marble now. 
 
 And faced her determined foe ; 
 
 Her lips were as colorless, her eye 
 
 Forbiddingly rolled, her cheek 
 Was ashen, while raven dye 
 
 Was gathered in frantic freak 
 
 Just over the lids ; .she tried to say 
 
 A fitting reply to this. 
 But obstinate did her tongue fixed stay ; 
 
 The answer turned out a hiss. 
 
 " Speak not," went gn Mepha, " if you choke 
 With words that will bear no speech ; 
 
 Your faith you will not, I see, revoke ; 
 Then listen, nor me beseech. 
 
 i 
 
THE CONQUEST OF HEAVEN. 
 
 89 
 
 Aniiilhis is dead. Wliy did he die ? 
 
 Because he has answered you 
 As you have this moment made reply 
 
 To me. That, 1 think, is true. 
 
 And more, he was tortured cruelly, 
 And racked was his soul and frame ; 
 
 Shall you suffer less of Mepha, me ? 
 That would be indeed a shame. 
 
 I have it at heart to bid you go. 
 
 And nevermore form and face 
 In these my infernal regions show. 
 
 But such would not please the grace 
 
 Of Congress, nor heal my wounded pride ; 
 
 So must I not think of that: 
 This day must your destiny decide, 
 
 Your fate you with nerve combat. 
 
 No punishment can be too severe 
 
 For such an atrocious crime : 
 So start not your sentence now to hear. 
 
 How judgment and justice chime ! 
 
 You were a great queen. A queen ne'er take 
 Advantage of throne and crown. 
 
 Her dignity, mercy ne'er forsakes 
 To hew an oflfender down. 
 
 Therefore that you outraged royal throne. 
 
 Shall sit you, in mockery. 
 On brow a huge crown, this to atone. 
 
 You think this a mild decree ? 
 
 That is because you have lost the sense 
 
 Of honor. But I've not done. 
 To womanhood made you, too, pretense: 
 
 But woman would such deeds shun 
 
 As you have performed in woman's name. 
 
 The chastisement must be rude : 
 In public must you expose your shame. 
 
 To pillar be bounden, nude. 
 
 I see that you do not even blush. 
 Nor faster comes forth your breath : 
 
 Yet would I not stand in sullen hush 
 But pray of my judge my death 
 
 The sooner than suffer such disgrace. 
 
 What wot you of shame and pride 
 That stand me before with brazen face, 
 
 When horror and grief 't should hide? 
 
 That chastises woman and queen, but there 
 
 Remains yet the mortal deed. 
 Who murders, must death herself here bear; 
 
 No smaller can be her meed. 
 
 Yours was an infernal, fiendish act, 
 And fiendish miisfbe th' reward. 
 
 So cannot the reins for you be slacked. 
 Nor edged off for you the sword. 
 
 Then be you condemned, to-morrow morn, 
 As which it is known with us. 
 
 To be of your cloak and vestments torn. 
 Be crowned, and to be led thus 
 
 Along the full-peopled avenues 
 
 E'en unto the Place Vendome, 
 Exposed to the rude and brutal views 
 
 Of those who about you roam. 
 
 There shall you be fastened to the stake. 
 
 With fagots around you piled. 
 And these shall be lit for judgment's sake. 
 
 And you shall be martyr styled 
 
 To Christian belief, hypocrisy. 
 
 To which you might well aspire ; 
 And so shall it end, your misery. 
 
 In horror, in pain, hell-fire." 
 
 And Diva said not a word, but turned 
 
 From Mepha's stern look away. 
 But unto the soul the speech had burned, 
 
 And kindled a fearful fray. 
 
 And Mepha and Hugon left her to 
 
 Her anguish, her shame, her grief, 
 Forgetfulness of her fate to woo, 
 
 To cling to her vain belief. 
 
 She slept not a wink athrough the night. 
 
 But waited in mad dismay 
 For Mepha's revenge and all its fright. 
 
 In shame to be brought away. 
 
 They came at the hour as they had said, 
 
 And merciless, cruel hands 
 Tore down from the heart that anguished bled 
 
 Its shroud at the queen's commands. 
 
 She stood in her beauty, nude and bare, 
 
 With angry and crimson face. 
 And bosom that heaved with high-wrought care, 
 
 In all her fine, native grace. 
 
 They led her away into the street 
 
 Where thousands were bent to see 
 The murderess from their gaze retreat 
 
 In hornir and misery. 
 
 They bound her unto the stake, and lit 
 
 The fagots about her feet ; 
 M'hey saw the alarm her brow o'erflit. 
 
 They saw how that heart wild' beat. 
 
 The wind caught the flame and wrapped it 'round 
 
 The supple and girlish form ; 
 .'Vnd higher and fiercer 'rose the sound 
 
 Of voices into a storm. 
 
 And as the flames grew and licked her breast. 
 
 She uttered a fearful shriek 
 That added luito the tumult zest. 
 
 Augmented its cruel freak. 
 
 It crackles and hisses 'bout the limbs, 
 
 And blisters the marble skin. 
 And frenzies the eye that fairly brims 
 
 With terror amid the din. 
 
go 
 
 THE INFERNAL CO MED Y. 
 
 The lips tried in vain to hold the cries 
 That 'rose from the throbbing heart 
 
 Now bursting in such a horrid wise, 
 Receiving so dire a dart. 
 
 The orbs from their sockets started out, 
 The fingers clutched wild' in air; 
 
 And louder and madder 'rose the shout 
 From those who 'd assembled there. 
 
 And so it went on, until the fire 
 Had finished its fearful task, 
 
 Until it had done the queen's desire. 
 Who might in her triumph bask. 
 
 But triumph not hovered in that eye. 
 Naught but a subdued, sad care, 
 
 A fever she could not from them cry, 
 In silence and grief must bear. 
 
 And Diva's soul sped inito the shell 
 That clasped that huge universe. 
 
 And fled from this horror, pain and hell, 
 Its monarch to hate and curse. 
 
 Queen Mepha but lived to nurse the boy 
 Armillus had her conceived ; 
 
 He now was her last, her only joy. 
 As well it may be believed. 
 
 And Hugon took pride in tutorship 
 
 Until he succumbed to years ; 
 He blessed him with quivering, dying lip, 
 
 And fled the infernal cares. 
 
 Queen Mepha soon followed in the wake. 
 Bowed down with her sorrow, and 
 
 Awoke in the future, there to take 
 Of hell in its train command. 
 
 Armillus she saw not there, for he 
 
 Had fled to another sphere ; 
 She carried his sacred memory 
 
 Unto the remotest tear. 
 
 Prince Mara assumed the reins of hell. 
 
 And royally wore the crown ; 
 They say he performed the service well ; 
 
 We'll leave him to his renown. 
 
 Now reader, we bid this hell adieu ; 
 
 If there we perchance should meet. 
 Most cordially will I welcome you. 
 
 So far is my song complete. 
 
 I've led you through sorrow and through night, 
 To heaven have I e'en you drawn ; 
 
 Now have we to greet but one more light ; 
 Of reason the glorious dawn ! 
 
 .1 
 
 -THE END OF THE CONQUEST OF HEAVEN.. 
 

 CANTO I. 
 
 THE DAWN OF REASON. 
 
 I BREATHE again, as though 1 come 
 Once more into the light 
 From out of fancy cumbersome, 
 
 From out of gloomy night. 
 
 From out a cave of dark design, 
 
 And issue into day. 
 And hail the sun's effulgent shine 
 
 To bask within each ray. 
 
 Yet do I feel a deep regret 
 
 To leave that hell behind. 
 In memory's oblivion set. 
 
 Dismiss it from the mind. 
 
 I fondled every phase and thought 
 
 That led my soul to dwell. 
 With so much animation frought. 
 
 On this my cherished hell. 
 
 I have not done it justice, I 
 
 Know well ; that makes me sad ; 
 
 Yet did I earnest' seek and try 
 To make it bright and glad. 
 
 I mixed much chaflf with glowing wheat ; 
 
 Too much, I fear, to please ; 
 I spoke much madness in my heat. 
 
 And uttered much to freeze. 
 
 But la, the thing is done, nor would 
 
 One line I now drop out ; 
 I've said enough that you not should 
 
 My thought and purpose doubt. 
 
 And now that I've the burdens off 
 
 My mind that it oppressed, 
 I am prepared to meet your scoff. 
 
 And let damnation rest. 
 
 I feel less bitter than I felt 
 
 Now I my mind have said ; 
 My topic shall be gentler dealt 
 
 In what 's yet to be read. 
 
 The light affects the sight that roved 
 Through realms of sombre hue. 
 
 And each gaunt, spectral aspect loved, 
 The devil gave his due. 
 
 The glare's too great, but time will give 
 
 It back its strength and use. 
 For brighter views and scenes to live, 
 
 With laughter more in truce. 
 
 So you who followed me along 
 
 Through death and hellish life. 
 Who saw but horror in my song 
 
 Prolonged and fearful strife. 
 
 Read to the end, and brighter views 
 
 Will, I to you unfold. 
 No more distract' with torture's hues. 
 
 Nor feelings hot and cold. 
 
 I bid you leave the scenes where war 
 
 Had just so bitter' raged. 
 And left the fancy sad and sore. 
 
 And sympathy engaged. 
 
 For fresher scenes where tropic' calms. 
 
 And perfume-laden mists 
 Dream through the zephyr's fragrant balms, 
 
 And sweet, secluded trysts. 
 
 Look on the still meridian sea. 
 
 So beautiful and blue, 
 Asplash with murmuring harmony, 
 
 The golden rays to woo 
 
 That scintillate upon its face. 
 
 And burn into its breast. 
 Its innermost confines to trace, 
 
 With loving, ardent zest. 
 
 A single sun 's upon the sky 
 
 To laugh upon the wave ; 
 Where may my scene, then, think you, lie 
 
 Before, beyond the grave? 
 
 Before. For we are back on earth. 
 
 The same that saw the breath 
 Armillus there acquired at birth 
 
 Fierce' given o'er to death. 
 
 The sea lies golden, blue and green 
 
 In lonely splendor there, 
 A dazzling, dreamy, beauteous scene ; 
 
 The heat hangs in the air 
 
 With heavy grace, and seems to lie 
 
 Upon the flashing glass 
 With heaving breath, in lullaby, 
 
 A mobile, glowing mass. 
 
gs 
 
 THE INFERNAL COMEDY. 
 
 No shore as far as eye can reach, 
 
 No far-off, swelling sail, 
 No cloud, no albatross's screech. 
 
 No sign of nighing gale. 
 
 It rocked in ceaseless heave and swell, 
 As though 'twere breathing hard, 
 
 With burdens on its soul to tell 
 Unto some idle bard. 
 
 My soul is rocked upon its peace 
 
 Into a languid haze. 
 Its fearful passions gradual' cease 
 
 Into a loving maze 
 
 For natural delights and joys, 
 'Though not less earnest they, 
 
 Not altogether silly toys 
 To fill a rhythmic lay : 
 
 For every scene and every view 
 
 Has deeper sense for me 
 Than merely born in brilliant hue 
 
 Of childish harmony. 
 
 I see the world with other eyes, 
 Through other glasses' cut, 
 
 Observe its every move and wise. 
 Spy in its every rut, 
 
 With laden heart of deep design 
 
 Seen in its every trace, 
 Seen in its every curve and line. 
 
 In its expressive face. 
 
 I am no thorough pessimist 
 
 To oote the death in life. 
 Its sweets with horrid venom kissed. 
 
 Its peace distract' with strife. 
 
 But all seems as if all were not 
 
 As much and earnest' seen 
 As I should wish, as though a spot 
 
 Were shadowed on the screen. 
 
 These people live their every day, 
 
 .\nd labor at their task. 
 Or spend their time at idle play. 
 But never stop to ask 
 
 The meaning of what meets them here. 
 This play, this life, this work ; 
 
 They pause not in their dull career. 
 Their labor do not shirk. 
 
 All thoughts of hence are answered by 
 
 The verdict of a priest ; 
 They pass all other edict by 
 
 As coming last and least. 
 
 A man should smile at every sight 
 
 .^s though he knew it well. 
 As though familiar with its light. 
 
 And could its purpose tell ; 
 
 Nor should a scene be so much new 
 That he should at it start 
 
 If seen at first ; lie should be true 
 To his exalted part. 
 
 There is a meaning in all things. 
 
 Or they were not at all ; 
 The beggars and the highest kings 
 
 Come under one same thrall 
 
 Of wisdom, accident and whirl ; 
 
 And he that sees in dross 
 The truth-imparting, shimmering pearl. 
 
 Sees half the way across 
 
 This life ; who sees the rest of way. 
 
 Is truly great a man ; 
 He holds the threads of this great fray, 
 
 ."^nd may its purpose span. 
 
 So every man who lives at all 
 Should be, and know the truth, 
 
 Conversant with his state and call. 
 His living and his youth. 
 
 Alas, the world lives on, and dies. 
 
 And lives again, to live 
 On lying lives and living lies, 
 
 With not a thought to give 
 
 To undercurrent ways and means, 
 
 E.xcept some cho.sen few 
 Who study out the sense of scenes, 
 
 And take the proper view. 
 
 The naked truth is fright to see, 
 
 'Tis true, as Schiller wrote, 
 But should not be a mystery 
 
 On which the people dote. 
 
 Humanity is racked with vice. 
 
 With sin, dishonor, shame, 
 With fa.shion paid with heavy price, 
 
 With pretense hollow, lame. 
 
 The passions of a by-gone age 
 Which graced the public mind, 
 
 With falsity and treason wage, 
 And follow far behind. 
 
 'I'o-day a friend 's a friend as long 
 As interest bids him be 
 
 Sincere at heart, but will go wrong 
 ."^t opportunity. 
 
 For gold a man will sell his name. 
 
 His every virtue blight ; 
 A woman sacrifice her fame, 
 
 And bury shame from sight. 
 
 A smile derides a noble thought 
 That chimes not with success, 
 
 Consideration coimts for naught. 
 And pity meets distress. 
 
 But all this filth may pass away, 
 
 Humanity be saved. 
 And live to see another day. 
 
 In virtue's glory laved. 
 
THE DAWN OF REASON. 
 
 93 
 
 Look to the stars for the reply 
 To nature's mighty scheme, 
 
 And let iis pass the present by 
 As though it were a dream. 
 
 Philosophy will teach how mucli 
 
 We all have yet to learn, 
 What wonders yet to reach and touch, 
 
 To what our minds to (urn. 
 
 The sentiment of priestly lore 
 
 Must first be blotted out, 
 Expunged unto the deepest core, 
 
 And given up to doubt. 
 
 Then may we swell with brighter looks 
 
 Into the vast design 
 Of nature's yet unopened books, 
 
 And road their every line. 
 
 All earth is yet in state so crude 
 That thinkers must astound 
 
 To see how knowledge is yet nude. 
 And by delusion bound. 
 
 But that will change ; the vista clears, 
 
 And breaks into delight 
 To kiss away the idle tears 
 
 That now bedim the sight. 
 
 Look on the sea, the shimmering sea. 
 
 Warm' nestled in the sun. 
 And note another regency 
 
 In beauty there begun. 
 
 Look on the light, the love of day. 
 
 And think it is the note 
 That sounds the darker thoughts away. 
 
 And sets new joys afloat. 
 
 My hell was blotched with incident 
 
 Most foul in many a line. 
 But ever on the truthful bent ; 
 
 And ne'er did right repine. 
 
 But glorious is the on-come ray 
 
 Of dreamy, hazy light : 
 See where it basks within the day, 
 
 ,\ diamond to the sight. 
 
 Look on the sea, the breathing sea. 
 
 And let its mighty swell 
 Now be your feelings' ministry, 
 
 And cha.se the shades of hell 
 
 Into the past : let merry glee 
 Find entrance in your heart. 
 
 And float with me upon the sea, 
 The gurgling brine athwart. 
 
 Thou peaceful sea, thou splendid sea. 
 Thou breathing field of peace, 
 
 I sing to thee, I melt with thee 
 Into each watery crease. 
 
 I lean to thee, I sink in thee, 
 I fall into thy dream, 
 
 I drown in iheo, thou tender sea, 
 I fade into thy beam. 
 
 I burn with all the heat the suu 
 Pours down into thy soul, 
 
 I turn to thee with facile run 
 Of pen, in thee to roll. 
 
 But look, what is that thing I wist 
 There floating on the wave. 
 
 Half woven in the crested mist. 
 As risen from the grave ? 
 
 It is a head, a human head. 
 With earnest, up-turned eye. 
 
 There rising from the watery bed. 
 And ever coming nigh. 
 
 1 know that head, I know that face, 
 I know that eye, that mien, 
 
 And so do you know every grace 
 In lineament there seen. 
 
 There is but one who has that look, 
 Who owns that noble brow : 
 
 He cannot be misjudged, mistook ; 
 It is himself, I vow. 
 
 'Tis he himself, Armillus, my 
 Loved hero there I see ; . 
 
 Do you him welcome here as I 
 Now welcome him with glee. 
 
 It is not o'er, his strange career ; 
 
 His mission 's not fulfilled ; 
 He has not wept his latest tear, 
 
 His latest passion stilled. 
 
 He lives again to fight anew 
 
 The problem of the age. 
 Until the wrong shall beg the true 
 
 No further war to wage. 
 
 I see it in his steadfast glance 
 
 That he is born again 
 To throw another crushing lance 
 
 At clerical disdain. 
 
 And rise above the havoc made 
 
 Of superstition's force 
 With reason's unpolluted blade. 
 
 Thus follow on his course. 
 
 He has outlived a two-fold death 
 
 To see another sphere 
 Of action, to revive in breath. 
 
 To make himself more dear 
 
 To such as I, and such as you. 
 
 If you have sympathy 
 For what is right and what is true, 
 And will with sense agree. 
 
 Oh cannot you now understand 
 
 The world is shaking off 
 Rank orthodoxy's heavy hand? 
 
 Can you mistake the scoff 
 
94 
 
 THE INFERNAL COMEDY. 
 
 With which is met the faith of old, 
 
 Now reason's on the dawn, 
 Now common sense has grown more bold. 
 
 And will no longer fawn 
 
 On usage as expressed in prayer 
 
 And worship for a God ? 
 Last century I could not dare 
 
 On you this wise to trod. 
 
 They would have burned me on the stake 
 
 For this infernal song. 
 But now they will to heart mc take, 
 
 'Though much be crude and wrong. 
 
 The world's awakening from its dream 
 
 Of blear theology. 
 And reason soon will stand supreme 
 
 To shame your heresy. 
 
 It is for this Armillus comes 
 Once more : to end the work. 
 
 To raise you from your senses' slums, 
 To drive you from your kirk, 
 
 To teach you now to throw aside 
 To what so long you 've clung, 
 
 And set afloat you on the tide 
 Of wisdom rightly sung. 
 
 You must explore the skies above 
 With other eyes and thought, 
 
 With quite another sense and love. 
 In different meaning caught. 
 
 You must appreciate that we 
 Have much to search and learn, 
 
 You must in our new industry 
 In ardor with us biu-n 
 
 To solve the mystery of life, 
 
 Of action and of sense. 
 Of nature's ever changing strife, 
 
 And lay aside pretense 
 
 To antiquated monkish lore 
 
 As obsolete and blind. 
 And cease your Savior to adore ; 
 
 He has been too unkind 
 
 With you in all but in his theme 
 
 Of sweet fraternity ; 
 For that may hold you him in dream ; 
 
 The rest is lunacy. 
 
 Armillus lives again ; all hail 
 
 To him ; learn him to love ; 
 Forsake the standard proven frail. 
 
 Nor hope for things above. 
 
 'Tis but the Anglo-Saxon race 
 
 That holds on to the cross. 
 Except the herds whose sunken face 
 
 Is pallid with the dross 
 
 Of Catholic design and fraud ; 
 All else have turned to sense. 
 
 Cast off the cruel, misty God 
 
 Why will not you commence? 
 
 You will commence, you do commence. 
 
 You will yet think with shame 
 That you believed this mad pretense. 
 
 Theocracy wild, lame. 
 
 Look on where proud Armillus floats 
 
 Into another clime. 
 And on the self-same mission dotes 
 
 Through all his three lives' time. 
 
 His brow is heavy with the load 
 
 Of what lies factured there. 
 Philosophy to spur and goad 
 
 Into a better care. 
 
 He floats along, he drifts along 
 
 On with the listless tide, 
 Adown with my infernal song, 
 
 The cleric' sharks defied. 
 
 He floats all day, he drifts all night; 
 
 And, on another morn, 
 A far-offshore looms into sight. 
 
 The misty curtain torn. 
 
 It is a sweet and verdant isle 
 
 There nestling on the sea. 
 Lit up by old King Sol's bright smile ; 
 
 The birds pipe merrily. 
 
 The leaves flap languor, woods breathe shade. 
 
 The surf sing well along. 
 The quadrupeds hide in the glade. 
 
 The zephyr joins the song. 
 
 Armillus lands upon the beach 
 
 As manly and as nude 
 As though escaped a sea-nymph's reach, 
 
 With energy imbued. 
 
 And as he pierces with his look 
 
 The forest there outstretched. 
 There come from out its every nook 
 
 In sombre nature etched, 
 
 A throng of dusky forms, to spy 
 
 The guest upon their shore. 
 To learn the wherefore and the why 
 
 He comes, and what's in store. 
 
 They welcome him with friendly mien. 
 
 And bid him come more near ; 
 They place him food upon the green. 
 
 And water flashing clear. 
 
 And he' partakes of food and drink, 
 
 And dusky maidens' smile. 
 Who half approach and half off shrink. 
 
 Without a sense of guile. 
 
 And they receive him in their mid. 
 
 And touch his soft, white skin, 
 And him a hearty welcome bid : 
 
 His like they ne'er had seen. 
 
THE DA WM OF REASON. 
 
 95 
 
 The men extend a friendly hand, 
 
 And seat him at their side, 
 As though to hid him join their band. 
 
 And choose himself a bride. 
 
 Armilhis looked upon the scene. 
 
 And seemed to guess its sense; 
 He had not lived for naught yestreen 
 
 In the infernal hence. 
 
 He saw his mission on this isle. 
 
 And took the task to heart. 
 And went about it in his style 
 
 To play his blessed part. 
 
 And as he oped his lips to speak. 
 
 He saw he knew their tongue ; 
 This was no silly nature's freak 
 
 On vanity him hung. 
 
 And they rejoiced to hear his word 
 
 In accents known so well, 
 In measures they had always heard 
 
 E'ach one the other tell. 
 
 And so Armillus soon became 
 
 One of that dusky band ; 
 Familiar grew his splendid name 
 
 Within that sunny land. 
 
 He studied them in all their ways. 
 
 Their faith, their mode of life; 
 He joined them in their sports antl plays. 
 
 Their hunts and daily strife. — 
 
 Thus happened it Armillus 'rose 
 
 Once more upon the earth, 
 To heal of its fanatic woes 
 
 The globe that saw his birth. 
 
 Nor Christ, Mahommed, India's liudilh. 
 
 Nor Hiawath's fame, 
 C'onfucius with his honors stud. 
 
 Might equal him in name. 
 
 Where these had dawned upon earth's parts, 
 
 And banners there unfurled, 
 Armillus won all nations' hearts, 
 
 And blessed th' entire world. 
 
 CANTO 11. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF A FAITH. 
 
 THE tropic' sun in golden phase 
 Sent down its dazzling gold 
 In ardent zest and sultry blaze. 
 In mighty r^ys unrolled, 
 
 Upon the bright, devoted isle 
 There grown from out the sea, 
 
 In sweet repose and verdant smile. 
 And swelling harmony. 
 
 Its centre 'rose into a mount 
 
 High towering in the air 
 With bold disdain and wooded flount. 
 
 The skies to pert' outstare. 
 
 And there, upon the summit's height. 
 
 Two figures stood oudined 
 Against the sun's refulgent light, 
 
 E.xtended view to find. 
 
 Armillus was the one, with eyes 
 
 Turned out upon the wave. 
 In solemn and majestic wise ; 
 
 A dusky warrior brave, 
 
 A nerveful youth, companion he 
 
 Unto the other stood ; 
 Both gazed upon the breathless sea, 
 
 Each in a thoughtful mood. 
 
 " What is that spol?," Armillus asked, 
 
 " The far horizon nigh. 
 In misty, vaporous distance basked, 
 
 I yet distinctly spy? 
 
 Thine eyes have doubtless' long explored 
 
 What may the vision mean. 
 And to its nature frequent' soared ; 
 
 Thou know'st what 'tis, I ween." — 
 
 " That, sir, is yet another isle 
 
 Like this on which we stand, 
 A verdant and vulcanic pile 
 
 Of ocean-laved high land." — 
 
 " What say'st thou, then, to thither hie 
 
 In yonder thy canoe ? 
 I gladly would our neighbors spy : 
 
 Are they, too, dark of hue?" 
 
 The dusky youth stepped back a pace 
 
 As if in dire alarm. 
 And gazed upon the other's face ; 
 
 Then caught him by the arm : 
 
 "Unhappy man, gainsay the thought; 
 
 Ne'er steer there thy canoe ; 
 That were with greatest peril frought ; 
 
 That islet is taboo !" — 
 
 " ' Taboo !' How so ? What means the word ? 
 
 And why art thou so pale ? 
 Such accent strange I never heard ; 
 
 Why must not there I sail?" — 
 
 " Because a sacrilege were that, 
 
 Here punished but with death : 
 Nor could thy friends thy fate combat : 
 
 It were thy latest breath." — 
 
 "A sacrilege, to see that isle? 
 
 Why, what is there to see 
 To bring on death? Thou mak'st me smile; 
 
 (Jr dost thou scoff at me?" 
 
96 
 
 THE INFERNAL COMEDY. 
 
 The native's eye with horror blazed ; 
 
 He knelt upon the sod ; 
 In superstitious terror gazed 
 
 As though upon a god, 
 
 On that far isle. "Arise, arise," 
 
 Armillus earnest' cried, 
 " And tell me, in thy calmest wise. 
 
 What may out there he spied."— 
 
 " Then say not that I scoff at thee 
 
 When of that isle I speak ; 
 My endless woe and misery 
 
 Were such a sinful freak." 
 
 And as he spoke, he grew more calm. 
 
 And even smiled again ; 
 It seemed at end, the passing qualm. 
 
 " Come, Loti, me e.vplain 
 
 What means this terror on thy part. 
 
 And what it has to do. 
 That thou shouldst thus go and start, 
 
 With what thou call'st taboo?" 
 
 And Loti heaved a heavy sigh, 
 
 And knit his dusky brow ; 
 And gazed into the azure sky. 
 
 As though 't should him endow 
 
 With facile speech to tell his tale : 
 He pressed his woolly head. 
 
 That it might now his tongue not fail ; 
 And this is what he said : 
 
 " A many years ago the ground 
 On which we live and stand. 
 
 Was yet not to be seen and foimd ; 
 There was no such green land. 
 
 This was, like all the watery rest, 
 
 A briny, flowing sea, 
 A foaming waste at winds' behest, 
 
 Or calm monotony. 
 
 And yonder isle, so small t(^ sight. 
 
 Was all the spot we knew, 
 (3n which we had full many a fight ; 
 
 There prospered we and grew. 
 
 We were a mighty nation then. 
 Which all its neighbors speared. 
 
 When men were eaten up by men. 
 Whom all their foemen feared. 
 
 We waged great wars with other tribes 
 Far down toward the south. 
 
 Who trembled at our bloody gibes. 
 And filled our hungry mouth. 
 
 We 'rose in power until we'd won 
 
 All rebels to our crown. 
 Full smiled on by fair fortune's sun ; 
 
 We owned a great renown. 
 
 We knew no god but then our king, 
 A mighty warrior he. 
 
 Who let us dance and feast and sing ; 
 The scourge of all the sea. 
 
 We nuiltiplied, and lived serene', 
 
 And had a splendid trade 
 With nations far beyond our scene, 
 
 So was our fortune made. 
 
 Until, one day, a gallant .ship 
 
 Bore down upon our shores. 
 Of swelling saifs and graceful dips; 
 
 With sturdily swept oars 
 
 Its crew approached us in its boats. 
 
 And came into our mid. 
 In new blue shirts and gold-trimmed coats ; 
 
 They were not welcome bid : 
 
 We'd had a feast, and mind and brain 
 Were crazed with ardent drink ; 
 
 It proved our downfall and our bane ; 
 To tell it, do I shrink. 
 
 The crew was seized upon and bound, 
 The ship was robbed and burned. 
 
 The women outraged whom we found, 
 And pleas for mercy spurned. 
 
 And when the fearful crime was done. 
 And we were wrapped in sleep, 
 
 1'he sun its daily course had run, 
 And silence on the deep 
 
 Dark' reigned, there was a rumbling noise. 
 And smoke filled through the air, 
 
 A fearful damp upon our joys. 
 That filled our hearts with care. 
 
 The very bottom of the isle 
 
 Was shaken, and the ground 
 Upheaved, high did the billows pile. 
 
 And made a dreadful sound. 
 
 And high upon tlic mountain steep 
 
 In centre of the land. 
 There did a crimson fountain leap. 
 
 To terrify oiu" band. 
 
 A shower of rocks and earth rained down. 
 
 And higher 'rose the flame ; 
 In ashes lay our woods and town ; 
 
 A fright us all o'ercame. 
 
 We ran like shadows here and there, 
 
 And wailed aloud and cried ; 
 Destruction was our monarch's share : 
 
 Struck down, that night he died. 
 
 And many a promising fine boy. 
 
 And daughter fair to see, 
 Their parents' life and hope and joy. 
 
 Too, ended shamefully. 
 
 Crushed under falling stones and trees. 
 
 Or swallowed h^ a wave. 
 That we did to the marrow freeze ; 
 
 Whole families found their grave 
 
TH1-: DAWN OF REASON. 
 
 97 
 
 K'er yet the worst had come ui)Oii 
 
 Our isle, for ere the morn 
 Was seen on eastern line to dawn, 
 
 No tree was there not torn 
 
 With all its roots from out the sod. 
 No stone not moved from base : 
 
 It was the first we knew of (jod ; 
 We ne'er had seen His facr. 
 
 This was to punish us for all 
 
 Our crime and shame and sin ; 
 He let us feel His wrath and thrall 
 
 In deafening, fiery din. 
 
 He stood upon the mountain's height, 
 
 And thundered down His rage 
 With flaming eye and direful blight ; 
 
 Our grief might none assuage. 
 
 And none escaped but those who daslied 
 
 Themselves into the sea ; 
 These, battling with the waves, were washed 
 
 Upon the isle that we 
 
 Now stand upon, come up that niglu 
 
 From out beneath the brine ; 
 No tree or shrub was there in sight 
 
 On which the sim might shine. 
 
 In after years, the rocky pile 
 Changed into what may'st view 
 
 In this so richly verdured isle 
 Soft' pillowed on the blue. 
 
 We ne'er went near the woeful scene 
 
 That saw our nation's fall 
 Ffir many a year, but reared this green 
 
 And blooming tract : and all 
 
 .\re once more happy as can be, 
 .■\nd thrive and laugh once inore ; 
 
 We have no power, but yet we're free, 
 And love our mother shore. 
 
 Since then the angry God has done 
 
 No further violence ; 
 The green's to spout once more begun 
 
 In forests dark and dense 
 
 On yonder late forsaken land, 
 
 And now it blooms again; 
 But it is lost to our command. 
 
 As thou shalt of me wain. 
 
 Some fifteen years ago, one night. 
 There was an awful gale ; • 
 
 A ship went down before our sight. 
 From water-line to sail : 
 
 And there was thrown on shore a maii 
 
 Who clasped a little child ; 
 Full mountain-high the billows ran, 
 
 The wind raged fierce and wild. 
 
 That man and child we lodged and fed. 
 And nursed through pain and ill ; 
 
 They were so fagged, wc tleemeil them dead, 
 'J'hey lay so cold and still. 
 
 But they revived, and then wc found 
 
 We'd saved a holy two ; 
 They dwell upon yon hallowed ground, 
 
 The island called taboo. 
 
 The stranger thanked us for our care 
 
 In deep and broken tongue, 
 Conunended us for cheer and fare, 
 
 Our hands us kindly wrung. 
 
 .'Vnd then he told us he had come, 
 
 A i)rophet, to defend 
 Our nation and our island from 
 
 Ciod's wrath, and he would scn<l 
 
 l''ull many a prayer unto the grace 
 
 Divine, and live a life 
 Devout before the godly face. 
 
 And spare us further strife. 
 
 He taught us many themes of wise 
 
 Design and import good. 
 And brought the tears into our eyes. 
 
 In earnest, tender mood. 
 
 He preached fraternity and love. 
 
 Morality and peace, 
 And vowed we all should meet above, 
 
 If we our sins would cease. 
 
 In realms of balmy, rare delight. 
 
 Of joy, and endless feast, 
 -\ field of marvels to the sight. 
 
 Of woe and error fleeced. 
 
 He said the God was just' incensed 
 
 At all our bloody crimes, 
 Hut we might of our sins be cleansed, 
 
 And gain those beauteous climes 
 
 He spoke about, if we'd be meek. 
 
 And bow unto his power : 
 Then would he grace us all bespeak ; 
 
 It was a gladsome hmir. 
 
 He dwelt upon the mercy throned 
 
 Upon the godly brow, 
 The love for all of us ensconed 
 
 There ; we had but to bow 
 
 Our heads, and fall upon our knees. 
 
 And yonder turn our view. 
 Then were we sure the God to please ; 
 
 Our troubles would be few. 
 
 And then he gave our sons conunand 
 
 To row him to yon isle ; 
 Our warriors lent a willing hand : 
 
 He left us with a smile. 
 
 A few days later he returned. 
 
 But came without his child ; 
 Much holiness we of him learned. 
 
 He was so good and mild. 
 
98 
 
 THE INFERNAL CO MED Y. 
 
 He told us he had been to hear 
 
 The pleasure of our God, 
 And brought us word and welcome cheer 
 
 To cherish on our sod. 
 
 He said that he would settle down 
 
 Upon that isle in prayer. 
 And win for us the heavenly crown 
 
 The God him promised there. 
 
 If we had troubles, we should light 
 
 A fire on this our shore, 
 And he would come to set us right, 
 
 And weal for us implore, 
 
 If he our troubles fearful found; 
 
 Else would he simply ask 
 The God our misery to bound, 
 
 And lighten us our task. 
 
 And every morn and every eve 
 Should we kneel down and pray. 
 
 And for salvation should not grieve 
 While o'er us peace held sway. 
 
 And he forbade us e'er to near 
 
 The islet there in view. 
 Or we should our destruction fear, 
 
 For that ground was taboo. 
 
 And from that day we've never seen 
 
 Our prophet, for we fare 
 Us happy ; sad we've since not been. 
 
 And we've had ne'er a care. 
 
 He dwells there still, for oft we see 
 
 The fires he lights at night 
 Unto our weal and ministry. 
 
 Within the godly sight. 
 
 We often send him food and wine 
 
 Secure within a boat 
 With swelling sail, when, in that line 
 
 The wind blows fresh', to float 
 
 The messenger of love across 
 
 The water to his shore. 
 And we have never known a loss 
 
 To him we so adore. 
 
 And once, not many moons ago, 
 
 There came a vision sweet 
 Across the waves, in saintly glow. 
 
 Us tenderly to greet. 
 
 And thanked us for our kindly gifts 
 
 From him who is our priest ; 
 She brought the words with blushing shifts. 
 
 Her loveliness increased. 
 
 Our people fell to earth at sight 
 
 Of her who lives in grace ; 
 She was sjo beautiful and bright. 
 
 Had such a lovely face. 
 
 She wore a garb of spotless hue 
 About the supple shape ; 
 
 Her eyes were dark and deep and true. 
 And sparkling as the grape. 
 
 Her tresses black flew in the breeze. 
 And waved us her farewell ; 
 
 We watched her from the highest trees 
 Far out upon the swell 
 
 Until her craft was lost to view, 
 
 And landed on the isle 
 Which was than her no more taboo. 
 
 She with the tender smile. 
 
 Methinks our prophet sent her here 
 
 To show us what a pearl 
 We had to shed for us a tear. 
 
 In this so lovely girl. 
 
 The heart of every youth around 
 Was touched with burning fire. 
 
 But as she is divinely crowned. 
 They cannot but admire 
 
 At distance, for it were their death 
 
 That island to invade ; 
 To risk for her the wrathful breath 
 
 Of him, they are afraid. 
 
 So now thou knowest why that land 
 
 Is not for us to view. 
 Since it is our loved priest's command 
 
 That it must be taboo. 
 
 And so remain, or else we die 
 
 In night and horror out ; 
 We would not have our end so nigh. 
 
 Nor bring on woe and rout. 
 
 I, too, was fired of that fair form, 
 
 And of those melting eyes. 
 But I crushed out my passion's storm, 
 
 For she is not a prize 
 
 To win, in this our nether life. 
 
 For love and quiet bliss. 
 To be a warrior's slave and wife. 
 
 To fondle and to kiss." 
 
 And Loti heaved a heavy sigh. 
 
 And wiped away a tear ; 
 ArmiUus stood in pity by ; 
 
 He held the savage dear. 
 
 And then our hero turned away 
 
 To brood upon the words 
 He just had heard the young man say 
 
 In rude, pathetic surds. 
 
 Here lay his mission well defined : 
 
 To fell this narrow creed, 
 To see its tenets undermined. 
 
 And plant another seed. 
 
 And then he thought upon the maid — 
 Queen Mepha, where was she? 
 
 His love for her, I am afraid, 
 Lies buried in the sea. 
 
 ^ 
 
THE DA WN OF REASON. 
 
 99 
 
 He dreamt of other kiss and bliss ; 
 
 He had not ceased to be ; 
 He'd find other love in this 
 
 Infernal comedy. 
 
 He gazed upon the far-off isle, 
 
 Aflash with thought and fire ; 
 And Loti's storj' with a smile 
 
 He paused to still admire 
 
 For its simplicity, its want 
 
 Of tenure and of base, 
 A thing to mock, to strike, to taunt 
 
 Fair reason to her face. 
 
 So every faith has grown from out 
 
 A simple, small event. 
 Gives over common sense to doubt 
 
 And idle sentiment. 
 
 Thus, in old Egypt's infant days. 
 
 Before that fabled sod 
 E'er knew of priesthood's tricks and w.iys. 
 
 Before it knew a god. 
 
 The Nile arose from out its banks 
 
 To flood the dried-up fields, 
 And earned the fellah's fervent thanks 
 
 For richer, larger yields. 
 
 And every time the flood on came. 
 
 There came the dog-star too ; 
 And so that star achieved a fame 
 
 It never sought nor knew. 
 
 The fellah thanked the twinkling star 
 
 For raising up the Nile 
 From out its bed o'er meadows far 
 
 And near: and, e'er a while. 
 
 The star was worshiped as a god ; 
 
 A faith was the result ; 
 The fellah knelt and kissed the rod, 
 
 And bowed to creeds occult. 
 
 And since that day all nations bowed 
 
 Aside the fellah down. 
 And cried for heaven and grace aloud : 
 
 Not less has the renown 
 
 Of that bright, worshiped star since grown. 
 
 But that the star has changed 
 Here into flesh, there into stone. 
 
 Through many doctrines ranged. 
 
 Armillus thought upon the birth 
 
 Of faith with earnest smile; 
 It had since won th' entire earth. 
 
 And, too, that far-off isle. 
 
 It was for him to strip it off 
 
 The human heart and mind. 
 Expose its articles to scoff. 
 
 And tear from off the blind 
 
 And sunken eye of active thought 
 The creed that holds it dark. 
 
 That had it wrongful vision wrought. 
 And kept out reason's spark. 
 
 These dusky fools were not less mad 
 
 Than those in cities dwell. 
 Their ignorance was no less sad ; 
 
 It was the self-same spell 
 
 That binds all ignorant and dull 
 
 Of men into one band. 
 The same delights from faith to cull 
 
 Of grace and angel-land. 
 
 Our hero would not leave them to 
 
 Their terror, and belief 
 In idle myths, a maid to woo. 
 
 The daughter of a thief 
 
 Of intellect, of common sense. 
 
 Of thought in reason's glow ; 
 He'd show how lame this man's pretense : 
 
 The thief would have to go. 
 
 His daughter fair might yet be pure ; 
 
 And he, our hero, young; 
 His heart could still a love endure ; 
 
 He was not much unstrung 
 
 By tenfold love and twofold death 
 
 And one devoted wife. 
 By heavenly gasp and hellish breath ; 
 
 He was yet good for life. 
 
 " When I return unto this shore," 
 
 He said, " 'twill be to teach 
 That he whom they so much adore 
 
 Is hardly fit to preach 
 
 Them faith and heaven and creed and hell ; 
 
 They need these not at all ; 
 They lived without these things as well; 
 
 Nor labor 'neath their thrall 
 
 Shall they while I own strength and nerve 
 
 The villain to unmask. 
 Him from his throne and path to swerve. 
 
 And take him hard to task. 
 
 I'll go and see what he is like. 
 
 And him his daughter woo. 
 Examine him e'er I shall strike 
 
 A blow at his taboo." 
 
 Armillus hastened to the strand ; 
 
 He felt so strong and brave ; 
 He looked upon the promised land. 
 
 And plunged into the wave. 
 
 CANTO III. 
 
 THE SHATTERED CROSS. 
 
 ARMILLUS swam athrough the eve. 
 And swam athrough the night. 
 And swam until the shades took leave 
 Of earth, and proud to sight 
 
loo 
 
 THE INFERNAL COMEDY. 
 
 The sun arose the morrow morn 
 
 To smile upon the shore 
 Where that benighted faith was born, 
 
 These fools learnt to adore. 
 
 He reached it safely, sank adown 
 
 In weariness of limb 
 Upon the sand, in study brown ; 
 
 The isle he'd left, so dim 
 
 To view, it seemed a floating spot 
 
 Far out upon the sea ; 
 It was a strange, adventurous lot 
 
 This man's, you will agree. 
 
 And when he'd rested, he arose 
 
 With flashing mien and eye. 
 Full ready to receive the foes 
 
 Of reason, and defy 
 
 Unto his teeth this meddling priest. 
 
 And tear away the screen, 
 With so much bold presumption creased. 
 
 As though it ne'er had been. 
 
 He looked upon his strange attire : 
 
 A cloth girt 'round his loins, 
 With nothing else there to inspire. 
 
 Nor gifts, nor golden coins. 
 
 This charlatan ; his dignity 
 
 As hero to sustain. 
 Wherein to wrap his vanity. 
 
 And end this foolish reign. 
 
 His soft, white skin shone in the beams 
 
 Of sunlight strewn about; 
 His eyes looked forth with piercing gleams 
 
 Of confidence ; no doubt 
 
 Was in them traced of his success 
 
 In this his mission there ; 
 He saw naught but the priest's distress 
 
 Which he him yet would bear. 
 
 He entered on the forest's shade 
 
 Outspread before his view, 
 The foeman's precincts to invade, 
 
 E'en to his purpose true. 
 
 Here fled a startled bird from sight 
 
 Into a higher branch. 
 There chased a quadruped with fright 
 
 He had surprised by chance ; 
 
 But naught about showed signs of life 
 
 Of mortal hand's design ; 
 No axe nor plow disturbed the strife 
 
 Of nature, to combine 
 
 'Gainst further growth of primitive, 
 
 Primeval brush and rock, 
 A modern aspect things to give, 
 
 And raise another stock. 
 
 The peace that.lay upon the scene 
 Was grateful and intense, 
 
 And so enwrapped he ne'er had been 
 By nature's influence. 
 
 With measured pace he went his way. 
 
 Awake in eye and ear. 
 To sight the young and beauteous fay. 
 
 The slightest noise to hear. 
 
 He strayed about, nor knowing where 
 The weary search would end ; 
 
 To call aloud, he did not dare, 
 p'or here there was no friend 
 
 To guide him to the priest's abode ; 
 
 The priest himself might hear, 
 And slay him, as he onward strode, 
 
 With coward' stroke in rear 
 
 From out some covert ambush aimed. 
 
 And that would never do ; 
 To bear defeat, he was ashamed ; 
 
 He 'd win o'er this taboo. 
 
 The hours wore by, and still no sign 
 
 Of temple, house or hut 
 To which his footsteps to incline, 
 
 Whereto his path to cut. 
 
 But still he would persist and search ; 
 
 He must at some time find 
 This worshiped couple's hidden perch, 
 
 And let them know his mind. 
 
 And presently, a rising ground 
 
 Invited an ascent ; 
 With eager haste and rapid bound. 
 
 Until his breath was spent, 
 
 Armillus flew unto the height, 
 Where now he wondering stood ; 
 
 Here was the whole outstretched to sight. 
 To brighten up his mood. 
 
 He was no longer lame nor stiff, 
 
 Nor careworn in his mien ; 
 He stood upon a mantling cliff : 
 
 Below, the waves were seen 
 
 With sullen wash to rinse the sand ; 
 
 He thanked the long-sought chance 
 By which he might survey the land 
 
 At one broad, sweeping glance. 
 
 And out upon the furthest ledge, 
 There stood a ranch, and crude. 
 
 As if in balance on the edge, 
 Which now Armillus viewed 
 
 With wrapt intent ; he stepped unto 
 
 The threshold, to surprise 
 The unsuspecting inmates who 
 
 Had never met his eyes. 
 
 But he was disappointed, for 
 
 No one was there within : 
 From broken hinges hung the door, 
 
 As though for long time 'd been 
 
THE DA WN OF REASON. 
 
 lOI 
 
 No lcn;im there to stir the ash 
 
 Upon the rude stone grate ; 
 The roof had suffered 'neath some crash 
 
 Of falling rock ; no plate 
 
 Or dish was there upon the shelf; 
 
 Upon the hed of leaves. 
 There slumbered no entrancing elf; 
 
 The roof was bare of sheaves. 
 
 A night-bird fluttered into light. 
 
 And winged off with a cry 
 Into the verdant forest's night. 
 
 The bold intruder by. 
 
 It seemed the hut had long been left 
 
 To ruin and decay. 
 Of every care and comfort 'reft, 
 
 To 'wait the latest day. 
 
 Armillus stood irresolute. 
 Nor knowing what was ne.\t 
 
 To do or come, and he was mute 
 In thought, and sore' perple,\ed. 
 
 And as he frowned upon his luck, 
 There fluttered from the wood 
 
 His idle stare about amuck, 
 K'en up to where he stood, 
 
 A turtle-dove ; it was so tame, 
 
 It settled on a branch 
 Right by his side : and after came 
 
 Unto the crazy ranch, 
 
 A ringing peal of laughter from 
 
 A sweet and silvery voice 
 That struck his every feeling dumb. 
 
 And made his heart rejoice. 
 
 This could but be the beauteous girl 
 
 Whom Loti had so praised ; 
 He was at last to see this pearl ; 
 
 High was his interest raised. 
 
 His eye flashed light, his heart beat fast, 
 
 A tremor shook his frame ; 
 In e.xpectation he was cast 
 
 As him there never came 
 
 Again, or he experienced had 
 
 In brightest days gone by ; 
 So was his heart now wild and glad, 
 
 So did his pulses fly. 
 
 The bushes parted — there they stood 
 
 In wonder face to face ; 
 No pen or pencil ever could 
 
 You reproduce the grace. 
 
 The fluttering coyness, supple charms 
 Of that sweet nymph, abashed, 
 
 There palpitating with alarms. 
 In whose fair vision clashed 
 
 The rarest beauty, freshest youth. 
 The greatest, deepest soul, 
 
 With eyes that shone with love and truth, 
 In innocence did roll. 
 
 Her faultless limbs were half exposed. 
 And, too, the heaving breast; 
 
 So had ne'er classic statue posed ; 
 Who sighted her, was blessed. 
 
 She came of pure Caucasian stock. 
 
 But into dusky tan 
 Had grown the skin and waving lock 
 
 That 'round her forehead ran. 
 
 About the 'luring form was wound 
 
 A loose and spotless sheet, 
 A wreath of flowers clasped around 
 
 The waist ; and on the feet 
 
 Were moccasins of curious weft. 
 Worn 'gainst the stones and sand ; 
 
 A stick she 'd carried in her left. 
 But now dropped from the hand. 
 
 A leafy crown adorned her head : 
 
 Just parted were her lips : 
 They looked so sweet, so ripe, su red ; 
 
 She crimsoned to the tips 
 
 Of ruffled brows ; she held her breath ; 
 
 Armillus was entranced ; 
 Here would he suffer once more death 
 
 To see those charms enhanced 
 
 By rapture into her instilled 
 
 Through love of him, aglow 
 With harmony of heart-strings thrilled 
 
 By bliss he would bestow. 
 
 She looked upon the rooted swain. 
 
 And then upon her bird. 
 And then upon him looked again, 
 
 With animation stirred. 
 
 Armillus smiled and her approached. 
 
 And held her out his hand ; 
 His welcome to the beauty broached, 
 
 With ardent longing fanned. 
 
 She never moved, but stood stock-still. 
 
 In helpless wonderment ; 
 To speak or move, she 'd not the will ; 
 
 Her color came and went. 
 
 Her lovely eyes were spell-bound fixed 
 
 Upon his earnest own ; 
 There blank amaze' and coyness, mixed, 
 
 In gallant colors shone. 
 
 Her dusky bosom 'rose and fell 
 
 Above the fallen robe 
 Beneath his wondrous dark eyes' spell ; 
 
 An undulating lobe, 
 
 Most fair to see, formed each contoiiy 
 
 Of palpitating breast; 
 Each looked so round, so firm, so pure. 
 
 Each in its sweet unrest. 
 
102 
 
 THE INFERNAL COMEDY. 
 
 Armillus looked and gazed till he 
 
 Recovered sense and speech 
 By slow return ; and soon, too, she 
 
 Normality did reach. 
 
 He spoke to her : " Thou beauteous child, 
 What dost thou in this place? 
 
 I did not think that 'mong its wild 
 Precincts so fair a race 
 
 Was represented. Art thou she 
 
 Who once paid visit there 
 To far-off isle across the sea. 
 
 Thy father's thanks to bear?" 
 
 The charming girl seemed re-assured ; 
 
 She took his outstretched hand, 
 Of bashfulness and wonder cured ; 
 
 Armillus stood unmanned 
 
 Again, for that so gentle touch 
 
 Nigh reached unto the soul ; 
 He never yet had burned so much 
 
 Of woman ; like a coal 
 
 In livid heat his heart was laid 
 
 Within a bosom thrilled ; 
 In vain it quiet be he bade ; 
 
 It would not thus be stilled. 
 
 A moment but she looked on him. 
 
 And then she fell on knee ; 
 Before him shone the well-formed limb. 
 
 " To show thyself to me, 
 
 Art thou an angel come on earth ? 
 
 Thou art so pure and white ; 
 I pray me tell what is thy worth ; 
 
 Thou art so fair to sight. 
 
 Come with me to my father now. 
 
 To have him worship thee ; 
 He'll prize thy coming here, I vow ; 
 
 Then wilt thou follow me ? 
 
 Carelta will on thee attend. 
 
 Prepare thee any dish. 
 To thy commands in duty bend. 
 
 Fulfill thy every wish." 
 
 Armillus saw the danger lurk 
 
 In granting her request : 
 He must from such a meeting shirk 
 
 At present, nor a guest 
 
 Appear unto the aged priest 
 
 Who'd call the isle to arms. 
 And set the savages to feast 
 
 Upon him ; no alarms 
 
 Must he permit the old man e'er 
 
 To give, or he was lost ; 
 So he must watch and have a care. 
 
 Whatever it might cost. 
 
 " 1 am no angel, maiden sweet," 
 He spoke unto the maid. 
 
 " I prithee, rise upon thy feet. 
 Nor be of me afraid. 
 
 I am a mortal man, who came 
 
 From other clime and sphere ; 
 And see, Armillus is my name ; 
 
 Thou need'st no harm thee fear. 
 
 Adventurous destiny me drove 
 
 Upon this sunlit isle. 
 Me wondrous haps and mishaps wove ; 
 
 Thou canst securely smile. 
 
 I do not mean thy father harm. 
 
 Nor thee, thou pretty child ; 
 Then do not take of me alarm ; 
 
 Cast off that look so wild." — 
 
 " Thou art no demon, then ?" she asked ; 
 
 My father oft has told 
 Me of the imps who furious' basked 
 
 Below in hell's foul hold." — 
 
 '■ Am I a demon to the sight ?" 
 
 He smiled so winningly. 
 And looked so true, so frank, so bright. 
 
 She could not but agree 
 
 With him that such a thought she could 
 
 Not entertain 'gainst him 
 Who came in such a loving mood. 
 
 And was so fine of limb. 
 
 " No, no, thou look'st not such," she smiled, 
 
 " Thou hast so sweet a face ; 
 I am a silly, foolish child." 
 
 She spoke with charming grace. 
 
 " But then my father prophecied 
 
 The downfall of these isles. 
 That I should be a demon's bride. 
 
 Ensnared by hellish wiles. 
 
 If once the evil being came 
 
 He told me of so oft. 
 Upon our shores ; it were my shame 
 
 To not ascend aloft 
 
 Into the heaven on high where God 
 
 Sits on a golden throne. 
 And looks down on this wicked sod : 
 
 There would I go alone. 
 
 In order to avert this fate 
 
 For me, and ward the blow, 
 To keep us from the demon's hate 
 
 And his domain below. 
 
 My father set this isle apart, 
 
 Our God's kind aid to woo. 
 To touch with prayer his mighty heart ; 
 
 And therefore this taboo. 
 
 My father also often said 
 
 This demon would appear 
 In pleasant shape, my trust to wed. 
 
 That I might pause and hear 
 
THE DA WN OF REASON. 
 
 103 
 
 His honied words unwittingly 
 Of aught of harm and woe. 
 
 That I might all the sooner be 
 Won over to the foe." 
 
 Armillus smiled again ; he knew 
 
 So well to win in love, 
 A woman's fond esteem to woo ; 
 
 In that he was above 
 
 All heroes ever planned or born : 
 He caught her hand once more. 
 
 His heart with love and rapture torn, 
 And trembling to the core. 
 
 He let her feel his soft, white skin : 
 " Do demons feel that way? 
 
 Think'st thou I harbor hell within 
 My body, thee to slay?" 
 
 Carelta smiled — that was her name : 
 
 Can you of better think 
 To wed with greatness, love and fame ? 
 
 With such as his to link? 
 
 Her fingers closed upon his hand 
 With fearless candor, while 
 
 She sense of danger from her banned ; 
 She thought no more of guile 
 
 In this so handsome, staunch a swain ; 
 
 She grew so frank and free 
 He felt as young and fresh again 
 
 As e'er he'd ceased to be 
 
 On earth before ; he had a heart 
 That bent beneath each shock. 
 
 But never broke ; it played its part 
 Again at call ; the stock 
 
 He came from was a stalwart one ; 
 
 No other could have braved 
 The pain and torture he'd through run. 
 
 And still at end be saved. 
 
 He squeezed her hand within his own. 
 Her hand so brown and soft; 
 
 He would have sacrificed his throne 
 To have that pleasure oft. 
 
 And she : " It feels so fine and nice ; 
 
 Please squeeze me once again." 
 Such bliss was his, it had no price ; 
 
 He was no longer sane. 
 
 But suddenly she changed her mood. 
 And snatched her hand away : 
 
 " Thou art so sweet, so fair, so good ; 
 Thou must no longer stay 
 
 Upon the isle ; my father might 
 
 Detect thee, and would call 
 The warriors o'er yet e'er the night 
 
 Could on thy presence fall. 
 
 And then it would be up with thee. 
 And that I could not brook ; 
 
 I could not on thy misery. 
 Thy death in torture look. 
 
 Whence didst thou come ? Where's thy canoe ? 
 
 But no, that's not the way ; 
 My father might obtain a view 
 
 Of thee, for yet 'tis day. 
 
 Upon the sea." She stood perplexed, 
 
 And knit the gentle brow. 
 Not knowing what to utter next, 
 
 And undecided how 
 
 Him to advise. Then suddenly 
 
 She came possessed of thought; 
 She grasped his hand most tenderly. 
 
 And thus she him besought : 
 
 " Stay here until the fall of night ; 
 
 Here canst thou safe' remain ; 
 Here will nobody seek thy sight 
 
 Until thou go'st again. 
 
 Here on this spot, some years ago. 
 
 My father built this hut 
 To seek the sunshine's grateful glow 
 
 When, most' by clouds in shut, 
 
 Athrough the rainy season's time. 
 
 It came an hour or two. 
 As though 'twere guilty of a crime, 
 
 Its sins were not too few. 
 
 And here my father read his books, 
 
 And carved a wooden cross. 
 Neglected all his other nooks. 
 
 And sat there on the moss 
 
 And leaves, and carved and read 
 
 Until the cross was done ; 
 He went forth with uncovered head. 
 
 And placed it in the sun. 
 
 But lo, the sun behind a cloud 
 
 Quick' fled, as though in fright. 
 And all the heaven became a shroud 
 
 As though it soon was night. 
 
 And then it rained, the winds did toss 
 
 The torn-ofT leaves around ; 
 A thunderbolt lit on the cross. 
 
 And felled it on the ground. 
 
 It lay in splinters on the grass. 
 
 The work of weary days ; 
 Since then my father ne'er would pass 
 
 Again these fatal ways. 
 
 And when I saw thee standing there, 
 
 Methought at first thou wert 
 A demon foul 'stead mortal fair ; 
 
 Thou dost not feel thee hurt ?" 
 
 Armillus' face was in a glow 
 
 While thus she told her tale ; 
 With whate'er else the maid might know, 
 
 She could not him regale 
 
I04 
 
 THE INFERNAL COMEDY. 
 
 As high' ; it did his spirit good 
 To hear this priest's distress ; 
 
 He was in a vindictive mood 
 The while ; nor could she guess 
 
 That he was happy 'stead of sad. 
 
 Her father's woe to hear ; 
 Yet was she most content and glad 
 
 To have him her so near 
 
 To prattle to, and fondle too, 
 To see and squeeze and kiss. 
 
 His epithets of love to woo : 
 It was exquisite bliss. 
 
 He threw himself beneath the shade 
 
 Of several mighty trees; 
 Beside him sat the dusky maid, 
 
 Hair waving in the breeze 
 
 That fanned delightfully the face 
 On this high point from west 
 
 Soft' wafted through the dreamy space 
 To where he lay at rest. 
 
 At first she touched him on the cheek 
 
 Or shoulder playfully. 
 With smiling mien and childish freak ; 
 
 And then, more tenderly, 
 
 She swept her hand his bosom o'er. 
 
 And twined about his arm 
 Her fingers soft, till to the core 
 
 Her heart took love's alarm. 
 
 And then she pressed her ruby lips 
 
 Upon his twitching own ; 
 He thrilled unto his fingers' tips ; 
 
 Such joy he 'd seldom known. 
 
 And slowly stole his arm about 
 
 The maiden's supple waist. 
 Her early coyness put to rout. 
 
 Her bashfulness off chased. 
 
 She nestled on his beating heart. 
 
 In contact face and face ; 
 Each bore the wound of Cupid's dart ; 
 
 It was a scene of grace, 
 
 Of tender love, of simple charm. 
 
 Of passionate affect' ; 
 Armillus meant and knew no harm ; 
 
 His honor would protect 
 
 This bud of nature in her love ; 
 
 She might lie there and swim 
 In drunken bliss, through rapture rove, 
 
 Entwined in every limb. 
 
 And yet be pure and undefiled ; 
 
 Might every passion fan ; 
 Carelta was a thoughtless child, 
 
 Armillus was a man. 
 
 He clasped her in his fond embrace. 
 Bliss-stricken to the soul, 
 
 Her heart aswell to rapid pace, 
 And burning like a coal. 
 
 And as he kissed her once again. 
 The dove flew down and cooed, 
 
 As if to signify the pain 
 It felt that she it wooed 
 
 Of feathered mate, was nowhere by • 
 Its eyes looked sweet and sad ; 
 
 To see their sorrow, was to cry ; 
 It really was too bad. 
 
 Armillus was no more of earth; 
 
 More tender grew his wise : 
 What was to this, infernal mirth ? 
 
 He closed his melting eyes, 
 
 And clasped her till she sighed with love, 
 
 And clasped him in return ; 
 She knew now what oppressed her dove. 
 
 So did she thrill and burn. 
 
 Where now was thought of reason's dawn. 
 
 Of doctrine's overthrow, 
 Of churches' sneers to spur him on ? 
 
 He had but time to glow 
 
 Of her that lay upon his breast, 
 
 And mingled with his own 
 Her honied breath ; with loving zest 
 
 Her raven pupils shone. 
 
 The sun displayed its purple crown, 
 
 And sank away from view ; 
 The shades of night fell softly down 
 
 Upon the isle's taboo. 
 
 Sink softy down, spread gently o'er 
 The pair, thou peaceful night, 
 
 Thy sable sheet our eyes before. 
 And shroud them from our sight. 
 
 CANTO IV. 
 
 THE PORTENT OF DESTRUCTION. 
 
 OH, what a world of strife is this 
 For honor, fame and gold. 
 Of truth and virtue gone amiss. 
 In tales of horror told ! 
 
 Look on a city proudly piled 
 
 Upon a vast extent 
 Of property, to effort riled 
 
 By souls on fortune bent. 
 
 So that each man has but the thought 
 To scheme and plot for gain. 
 
 Each mind in the delirium caught 
 Until it is insane, 
 
TFfE DA W\ OF REASON. 
 
 105 
 
 To tear fiDiu oilier hands away 
 The money wliich they 'd won, 
 
 To fret athroujili the life-long day 
 I'ntil that day is done. 
 
 And leaves the plotter in a craze, 
 
 To better feelings lost : 
 What if he wins in all this maze? 
 
 'I'he gain 's not worth the cost. 
 
 See what a web of interests clash 
 
 Within a city's boinids. 
 Against each other knock and dash 
 
 As, through the feverish rounds 
 
 Of business hum and endless care. 
 
 The bitter fight goes on 
 Till brains into distraction wear. 
 
 And taces lengthen, wan 
 
 And sunken 'neath the constant strain 
 
 Of eager greed for wealth 
 Till energy is on the wane. 
 
 And undermined is health. 
 
 It is amazing what a world 
 
 Of flashing bubbles rise. 
 From out the earnest struggle hurled, 
 
 To charm unwary eyes. 
 
 And drag their riches in the flood 
 
 Of speculation wild, 
 Of throbbing heart and boiling blood. 
 
 Of virtue lust-defiled. 
 
 Vast sums come out, vast sums go in, 
 
 A little grasps each hand 
 But throws it forth still more to win. 
 
 By golden prospects fanned. 
 
 The business world is but a wheel. 
 
 And each one takes a turn ; 
 It goes around in endless reel. 
 
 With endless unconcern 
 
 For wasted lives and broken hearts. 
 
 And fortunes made and lost ; 
 Each has his day, and plays his parts, 
 
 Upon this ocean tossed. 
 
 Enjoy your riches ye who won 
 
 Your pelf by such a strife. 
 Bask on in Mammon's golden sun 
 
 Until the end of life ; 
 
 Enjoy yourselves while yet ye may, 
 
 If you have time or sense 
 For pleasure, ere ye get ye gray. 
 
 And pass forever hence ; 
 
 I envy not your regal state, 
 
 Your luxury and flash, 
 Your purse-proud ways and boastfiil prate, 
 
 Your living's pomp and dash ; 
 
 You pay too high a price for all 
 So lordly you display ; 
 
 Vou have obeyed Fortuna's call, 
 And thrown your lives away ; 
 
 If you 'd had money from the start, 
 
 'Twould be another thing ; 
 You might have kept your youth and heart : 
 
 liut these have taken wing. 
 
 And you will ne'er again be free 
 
 In mind tor soulful thought. 
 Aesthetic fancy, harmony 
 
 Into perception wrought. 
 
 A verse will pall upon your sight, 
 
 A note upon your e"ar ; 
 Your life will be a sordid night, 
 
 Your lot an angui.shed tear. 
 
 I want no share of gold gained so. 
 
 At such an awful price. 
 Thus purchased by my freedom's flow, 
 
 At such a sacrifice. 
 
 If life cannot afford to give 
 
 Together wealth and joy. 
 Then do I not much care to live 
 
 In hi.\iu-y, and buoy 
 
 My shattered nerves with stimulants 
 
 Up, spend my time in plot 
 To save my wealth from fatal chance. 
 
 Or be a glutted sot 
 
 In lap of fashion, hollow ease, 
 
 And false tranquility ; 
 Give me my reason, if you please. 
 
 And give me poverty. 
 
 Me leave my heart, me leave my soul. 
 
 Me leave my mind and sense. 
 My appetite with bread condole. 
 
 And I not your pretense 
 
 Would have for all the flimsy rest 
 
 Contained in all the world ; 
 Thus will I surely fare me best. 
 
 My banner proud' unfurled. 
 
 Give me my leisure and my song. 
 And you may have the wealth, 
 
 But you will have to take along 
 Your peace of mind and health 
 
 Forever stunned ; I like a toy. 
 
 But will not pay too much 
 For what you may esteem a joy, 
 
 But I not coiuit as such. 
 
 Armillus never bore a share 
 
 Of all your toil and woe, 
 Your insane heat and sapping care. 
 
 Nor proved him wealth a foe 
 
 He took it when it came, of course 
 
 But did not spend an hour, 
 Or an iota of his force. 
 
 To add it to his power. 
 
io6 
 
 THE INFERNAL COMEDY. 
 
 He 'd lived a life of mad excess, 
 
 But he 'd enjoyed that life, 
 And did not suffer much distress 
 
 Till he for death was rife. 
 
 He'd lived another life in glee. 
 With wondrous might regaled. 
 
 And did not suffer misery- 
 Till life once more him failed. 
 
 And now he lives a third life out, 
 
 Another fate to carve ; 
 That he '11 fare well, he does not doubt ; 
 
 He surely will not starve. 
 
 Nor will the writer of this tale. 
 
 They both will live and love. 
 And tranquilly through being sail, 
 
 And never reach above. 
 
 Carelta left him when the moon 
 
 Appeared upon the sea : 
 " I must away, but I will soon 
 
 Return, my love, to thee. 
 
 My father will suspect that I 
 
 Have met with something wrong. 
 
 So will I quickly to him hie. 
 But I'll not gone be long. 
 
 Thou wilt stay here to 'wait me back?"- 
 " Aye, that 1 will, my sweet ; 
 
 Rut do not keep me on the rack 
 Until again we meet." 
 
 Armillus was alone, to thought 
 
 Most earnest given o'er. 
 With mingled care and rapture fraught. 
 
 And stirred unto the core. 
 
 " I have not seen my latest breath," 
 
 He said unto himself, 
 " I am not in the face of death ; 
 
 I may yet wage for pelf. 
 
 Why should I not the rest of life 
 
 Devote unto my weal. 
 And take this maiden for my wife. 
 
 Still joy and bliss to feel ? 
 
 To Vienna or to Paris go ? 
 
 I care not what they say ; 
 Society was e'er my foe, 
 
 And is unto this day. 
 
 I am not learned in craft or art 
 
 Or commerce, it is true. 
 But I shall know to play my part, 
 
 A fortune to accrue. 
 
 I have not been the king of hell 
 
 For nothing, I'll be bound ; 
 I cannot fail to fare me well ; 
 
 I will not run to ground. 
 
 The mission here I'll stay to end ; 
 This sorry trick reveal, 
 
 This fellow to perdition send. 
 And then his daughter steal. 
 
 And then away, for love and life. 
 
 Into another part. 
 For other than infernal strife ; 
 
 I find I've yet a heart. 
 
 Mayhap I'll find some time to teach 
 
 My fellow man where he 
 Stays out of common-sense's reach. 
 
 And bows to trickery." 
 
 He wiped his hot, perspiring brow, 
 And stepped out on the ledge. 
 
 And registered a solemn vow. 
 There on the rocky edge, 
 
 He'd take Carelta for his own. 
 
 And love her till the end ; 
 The moon upon the lover shone : 
 
 In her, he had a friend. 
 
 For that pale orb is linked with love 
 As wine is linked with song. 
 
 As cooing 's sonant with the dove, 
 And shame is bound with wrong. 
 
 He stood in thought, and breathed in 
 
 The fragrant midnight air ; 
 Hig heart him burned his breast within 
 
 At thought of her so fair 
 
 Who'd won his heart at sight, and who 
 
 Loved fondly in return ; 
 He could not aught her acts construe, 
 
 Else from her manner learn . 
 
 And as he stood there in the night 
 
 Beneath the starlit sky. 
 Full flooded with fair Luna's, light. 
 
 There came a far-off cry ; 
 
 And with it came a rumbling sound 
 
 With ominous portent ; 
 About him shook the rocky ground. 
 
 And waters came and went 
 
 With fiercer zest upon the strand 
 Below ; some trees down crashed ; 
 
 There ran a tremor through the land : • 
 And through the forest dashed 
 
 The startled animals in haste ; 
 
 The birds flew screaming by. 
 All by the self-same terror chased 
 
 Which none chose to defy. 
 
 But only for a moment all ; 
 
 Then was it still again. 
 Except there was another call, 
 
 As though in grief or pain. 
 
 Armillus knew the voice, and ran 
 To where the voice he 'd heard, 
 
 And sped three paces at a span, 
 Nor stopped to give a word 
 
THE DAWN OF REASON. 
 
 J07 
 
 In answer till he reached ihc spot ; 
 
 And there Carelta lay 
 Upon the ground beneath a lot 
 
 Of boughs and lumps of clay 
 
 That had been shaken from above 
 
 Into the vale below 
 Upon his pale and startled love, 
 
 There crying in her woe. 
 
 He dragged her out, and caught her in 
 
 His eager, anxious arms ; 
 She was not hurt ; he sought to win 
 
 Her back from her alarms. 
 
 But she would not be calm nor still, 
 
 Nor listen to his voice, 
 And struggled 'gainst him with all will. 
 
 His soothing to rehearse. 
 
 " Oh fly from off this fatal isle," 
 She cried, " ere 'tis destroyed ; 
 
 We have no time for kiss or smile ; 
 My love and dreams are void." 
 
 Armillus strained the girl to heart : 
 
 " Why should I fly alone? 
 1 do not mean that we shall part. 
 
 Then do not cry and moan. 
 
 I will not give thee up, I vow. 
 
 But make thee to my wife ; 
 Then do not, sweetheart, tremble now. 
 
 While there is hope and life. 
 
 It was an earthquake, nothing more ; 
 
 There's nothing wrong with me ; 
 I will not cease thee to adore ; 
 
 Why wilt no more love me?" 
 
 Carelta nestled to him close : 
 
 " Be thou the Evil One, 
 I will endure the hellish dose. 
 
 And be fore'er undone. 
 
 So I remain with thee ; thou art 
 
 My being's soul and life, 
 .So hast thou won my yielding heart ; 
 
 And 1 will be thy wife. 
 
 Whatever that may mean or say ; 
 
 I give myself to thee. 
 And follow thee upon thy way 
 
 Wherever that may be. 
 
 The prophecy has been fulfilled : 
 
 I am the bride of hell !" 
 Armillus to the marrow thrilled : 
 
 " Love, thou hast chosen well ! 
 
 But thou art wrong ; no demon is 
 The man whom so dost love ; 
 
 My heart not seethes with hellish fizz. 
 Nor light from heaven above. 
 
 I am a mortal like thyself. 
 Who loves thee, and is thine ; 
 
 Then see in me no knavish elf 
 Who'll make thee to repine. 
 
 I love thee, maid, as though 1 knew 
 
 Thee since I was a boy. 
 And will unto my troth be true, 
 
 And make thy life a joy." 
 
 Carelta looked into his eyes. 
 
 And saw he spoke the truth ; 
 So ceased her heart's despairing cries, 
 
 And saw in him the youth 
 
 Who gives his heart and soul to her 
 
 He has elected of 
 The gentle sex, as if she were 
 
 The acme of man's love. 
 
 " But then," she asked, " what may it mean 
 
 That we are ruin nigh ? 
 We felt so safe of grace yestreen. 
 
 And now we all must die." — 
 
 " But wherefore? I no reason see 
 Why thou shouldst have such fears ; 
 
 All nature rests in harmony ; 
 Then diy these foolish tears." — 
 
 " Thou dost not understand that fate 
 
 Is pitted 'gainst our hope ; 
 A dreadful death must us await, 
 
 'Gamst which we cannot cope. 
 
 On yonder mountain was a lake 
 
 Of which my father said 
 That if it dry, then we should make 
 
 Our peace, ere we are dead. 
 
 With heaven. The lake was there to-day ; 
 
 My father on the ground 
 Before it knelt, his prayers to say ; 
 
 'Twas there that him I found. 
 
 He greeted me with gentle kiss ; 
 
 I knelt down at his side, • 
 When suddenly there was a hiss : 
 
 The waters went and dried. 
 
 It seemed as though the earth beneath 
 
 Had drunk' the water in ; 
 I saw my father set his teeth, 
 
 The color leave his skin. 
 
 ' There is an evil sprite abroad,' 
 
 I heard him say, ' and we 
 Are from our godhead's grace outlawed ; 
 
 Already death I see 
 
 Stare both of us into the face." 
 
 I ran from him in fright 
 To seek thee at our trysting place. 
 
 To haste within thy sight. 
 
 For there alone I feel secure. 
 
 I would this island flee. 
 And so escape destruction sure. 
 
 But cannot go with thee 
 
JoS 
 
 THE JA'FERNAL COMEDY. 
 
 Without my father : I cuiild nut 
 
 Desert him in this strait, 
 Dehver him unto his lot. 
 
 And leave him to his fate. 
 
 And yet I cannot have thee meet 
 
 His angry eye, for he 
 Would thee as mortal foeman greet. 
 
 And that I cannot see. 
 
 1 love thee much, but love him too, 
 And must his goodness bless ; 
 
 Oh tell me, then, what I shall do ; 
 I am in sore distress." 
 
 ,\rmillus smiled, and kissed the maid, 
 And caught her by the hand : 
 
 " Cheer up, my love ; be not afraid : 
 Thy grief I understand. 
 
 Come take me to thy father now, 
 
 And let me to him speak ; 
 He will not do me harm, 1 vow ; 
 
 I'm strong, and he is weak. 
 
 He knows a demon from a man. 
 
 And he will quell thy fears. 
 Thy gloomy lamentations ban, 
 
 Xnd dry thee, love, thy tears." 
 
 She hesitated and was lost. 
 
 And led him from the spot. 
 With manifold emotion tossed 
 
 Her bosom, burning hot. 
 
 She led him up a steep ascent 
 
 Athrough the silent night ; 
 And thoughtfully her after went 
 
 Armillus, with the light 
 
 Of moon refulgent on his brow 
 
 In earnest calmness set ; 
 He was again the hero now 
 
 We first in hell him met. 
 
 They reached the summit of the steep, 
 
 And there, upon a rock. 
 As wizard in some awful keep, 
 
 The sense of man to mock, 
 
 An aged, bowed-down figure crouched. 
 
 In long, loose garment clad, 
 A sight that for great suffering vouched, 
 
 So pitiful and sad. 
 
 The hair was snowy white, and fell 
 
 In clotted masses down 
 Upon his shoulders bare, to tell 
 
 A tale of woe; his gown 
 
 Was tattered, threadbare, old and torn. 
 
 And covered scantily 
 The thin, gaunt frame, so lean and worn ; 
 
 His hands shook nervously. 
 
 But in his eyes there flashed a light 
 That made Armillus start. 
 
 And caused Carelta to affright. 
 So piercing was their dart. 
 
 He turned alxiut, and fi.\ed them on 
 
 I'he wonder-stricken twain 
 Held spell-bound by that visage wan : 
 
 They saw he was insane. 
 
 He started up : Carelta fell 
 
 L'pun her knees, and bowed 
 Her head as to avert the spell ; 
 
 So was she thralled and cowed. 
 
 Armillus, with unshaken mien, 
 Approached the hoary priest, 
 
 Carelta and the same between, 
 His splendid forehead creased 
 
 With furrow deep; the sire fell back, 
 And crossed upon his breast 
 
 With hands ; his brow was black 
 With rage and fierce unrest : 
 
 " Avaunt, thou demon ! Hence, say I !" 
 
 He cried ; Armillus fixed 
 Upon the priest a glittering eye 
 
 Where strength and sternness, mixed, 
 
 Exultant' shone. The old man quaked 
 
 As if in deadly fear : 
 " O God Almighty, have I waked 
 
 In vain these years through here 
 
 'i'o do Thy will. Thy foes withstand. 
 
 To teach Thy holy word, 
 To preach Thy glory on this land'.' 
 
 And are my prayers unheard '! 
 
 This demon shrinks not at the sign 
 
 Of holy cross, defies 
 My adjuration, gospel Thine, 
 
 With brimstone-flashing eyes." 
 
 Armillus oped his lips and spoke : 
 
 " Most reverend, holy sir : 
 In vain you aid from heaven invoke ; 
 
 In what you think, you err. 
 
 I am a mortal man like you. 
 By chance thrown on this isle, 
 
 And come in peace your grace to sue. 
 To meet, 'stead frown, a smile. 
 
 Your daughter will confirm my word ; 
 
 She has received me well : 
 She thinks that it would be absurd 
 
 To think me come from hell, 
 
 A demon^ to destroy this land; 
 
 But I have power and might. 
 And can avert the woe at hand 
 
 You so prophetic' sight. 
 
 If you will tell me how you came 
 
 To occupy this place, 
 V'our origin and home and name ; 
 
 And if it was disgrace, 
 
THE DA IVN OF REASON. 
 
 log 
 
 Misfortune, loss of wealtii or kin, 
 
 Or freak that drove you hence. 
 1 may assuage the fear within 
 
 Your bosom ; no pretense 
 
 Lay I to heavenly aid ; 1 come 
 
 To you as fellow man, 
 To sympathize with you, and from 
 
 My heart, as best I can. 
 
 Thou answer me." The old man looked 
 
 With wonder on the swain : 
 Intently were his glances hooked 
 
 Upon him ; but again 
 
 He fell a pace in rear, tlistrust 
 
 Full standing on his face. 
 " You are ungenerous, unjust ; 
 
 I come to woo your grace," 
 
 Armillus spoke again. Yet still 
 
 The sire not moved a hand 
 To show the stranger better will, 
 
 Or alter his command. 
 
 Armillus waited for reply. 
 
 And then began once more : 
 " Your silence how construe must I V 
 
 How long must I implore 
 
 That you will speak '.' What may this mean ': 
 
 Am 1 so dread to sight. 
 That you are dumb ? Not that, I ween. 
 
 Then let me set you right." 
 
 The old man stared upon the youth, 
 
 .•\nd then upon the place 
 Where, if the maid had spoke' the truth, 
 
 A lake had left its trace ; 
 
 And as he looked upon the spot, 
 
 A quiver through him rah ; 
 " This is some foul, infernal plot ; 
 
 Avaunt, thou art no man ! 
 
 Thou an a demon, come to win 
 
 With honied words my soul ; 
 But I will not be won by sin : 
 
 I seek the heavenly goal. 
 
 Carclta, hasten to my side ;' 
 
 This handsome youth 's a snare ; 
 
 Thou shalt not be the devil's bride, 
 Damnation be thy share." 
 
 And as he cried the words, he made 
 
 A mien as though to snatch 
 His daughter's arm ; Armillus bade 
 
 Him halt : " I am your match 
 
 In strength and in agility ; 
 
 Stand back, or I will hurl 
 You down this mount into the sea, 
 
 So do not touch the girl. 
 
 I doubt me much if she was born 
 Of you, or you would ne'er 
 
 Have her from home and country torn. 
 This wilderness to share 
 
 With you and savage tribes ; and now, 
 
 I'll know the truth, or I 
 Will wring it off your tongue, I vow ; 
 
 That, dare me not to try." 
 
 The old man shook, and wrung his hands 
 
 As if in wild despair; 
 He ceased to issue vain commands, 
 
 And wept, and tore his hair : 
 
 " O, am 1 then forsook of grace ? 
 
 Is this my punishment 
 For what I've done ? And is my race 
 
 So nearly run and spent, 
 
 Ere I am sure of mercy, ere 
 I've made my peace with God ? 
 
 And is this demon sent to bear 
 My soul from hence ? This sod 
 
 To be my final resting place ? 
 
 The chastisement is dire ; 
 I ne'er shall see Jehovah's face ; 
 
 I'm doomed to hell and fire !" 
 
 Armillus touched him on the arm, 
 
 His features lit up stern': 
 " Too justified is your alarm ; 
 
 All sinners have their turn. 
 
 Aye, I am come to take thy soul 
 
 Away upon this night ; 
 You have approached your living's goal. 
 
 To end in woe and fright. 
 
 You have but time to see if you 
 
 Cannot yet win God's heart, 
 By earnest prayer His favor woo 
 
 Ere you this life depart. 
 
 Confess your sin aloud to Him, 
 
 And He may you absolve. 
 And save you from our horrors' brim ; 
 
 The sentence may revolve 
 
 Unto your good." The old man fell 
 
 Upon his knees, and turned 
 His orbs on high, beneath the spell ; 
 
 His face e.xcited' burned 
 
 With high-strung fear. Armillus stood 
 
 Like marble statue there. 
 Carelta, in affrighted mood. 
 
 To look up did not dare. 
 
 The moon shone down upon the scene 
 
 With a malicious smile; 
 And then a dark cloud came between 
 
 Its visage and the isle. 
 
no 
 
 THE INFERNAL CO MED Y. 
 
 CANTO V. 
 
 THE DOCTRINE OF HELL. 
 
 SEE how religion turns the brain, 
 And twines its serpent fold 
 About it till it is insane. 
 And to perdition sold. 
 
 To misery, delusion's sway, 
 
 Hypocrisy and cant. 
 To superstition, cruel fray. 
 
 Unreason, arrant rant. 
 
 Mark how the intellect is wrapped 
 
 In folly and in night, 
 The heart of its emotions sapped. 
 
 The soul of glorious sight. 
 
 Note how the sympathies are run 
 
 Into a piteous groove, 
 To error and distraction won, 
 
 My premises to prove. 
 
 Learn how the morals are debased. 
 
 The hand is led to crime. 
 The beauty of man's thought defaced, 
 
 So dragged through droctrine's slime. 
 
 Look to what ends the means have come 
 
 To make a joy this life. 
 The prospect blear, the feelings numb, 
 
 The sentiments at strife. 
 
 The wretched sire cried bitter tears. 
 
 And called on God on high. 
 Spurred on by most distressing fears 
 
 To save his soul to try : 
 
 " Long years ago, while still a youth 
 Beneath my father's care, 
 
 God, the heavenly, blessed truth 
 Fell to my boyish share. 
 
 1 lived in all humility 
 
 Of Thee, and Thy commands ; 
 I cast off human vanity, 
 And gave into Thy hands 
 
 My heart and soul. My father died, 
 And blessed me, and I turned 
 
 My mind on matters sanctified. 
 And all temptation spurned. 
 
 My brother was a godless man 
 Who cursed Thee to Thy face. 
 
 Long placed beneath the social ban 
 To fill an outcast's place. 
 
 He lived within a home he'd built 
 
 From out of earnings won 
 In sordid strife and greedy guilt. 
 
 Where ne'er was homage done 
 
 Unto Thy mercy ; I in vain 
 Have sought to win him o'er; 
 
 Was oft rebuffed, and did again 
 Not cease to him implore 
 
 To seek Thy grace ere 'twas loo late 
 Then did he swear and foam. 
 
 And did me with abuse berate. 
 And chased me from his home 
 
 Yet still I vowed that I'd stay by. 
 And save him from his doom. 
 
 However he might seek and try 
 To thwart me. Then the womb 
 
 Of her he'd taken for his wife, 
 
 A daughter him did bear ; 
 And I approached the puny life 
 
 To save it from the snare 
 
 Of godless teaching ; and again 
 He drove me from his door ; 
 
 My protestations were in vain ; 
 I vowed I'd stand no more 
 
 This sinning by, but snatch the child 
 From out his monstrous arms 
 
 Where it was sure to be defiled. 
 And shield it from his harms. 
 
 And this I did. In dead of night. 
 
 Into his house I stole. 
 And robbed his daughter from his sight 
 
 In grief that home to roll. 
 
 1 never thought that what I did 
 
 Would be so dread, or I 
 Would ne'er him of his child have rid. 
 
 But first prepared to die. 
 
 It was a sorry, wicked deed 
 
 Which I did oft me rue ; 
 Yet did I not e.xpect this meed, 
 
 This so e.xacting due. 
 
 If thou art sent from Satan's hold 
 
 To take my soul along 
 With thee, I must my arms still fold, 
 
 And think of that great wrong. 
 
 But what I did, was done for good ; 
 
 I thought forgivenness 
 Wourd be extended me, God's mood 
 
 Yet give me happiness. 
 
 The mother died of grief and shame. 
 My brother bowed his head. 
 
 And left his homestead and his fame ; 
 And in a year was dead. 
 
 He sought for me through many lands. 
 
 But I was hid away 
 Upon this isle, nor could his hands 
 
 Here find me, me to slay. 
 
 I took a refuge on a ship 
 For far New Zealand bound, 
 
 To flee my brother's wrathful grip. 
 And seek upon that ground 
 
THE DAWN OF REASON. 
 
 ttt 
 
 A missionary's home and place ; 
 
 The ship encountered gales 
 On gales, was led a chase 
 
 Until were gone its sails, 
 
 And everywhere it sprung a leak ; 
 
 Then came the final wave 
 Ood's vengeance on my crime to wreak. 
 
 But I escaped the grave. 
 
 As did the child ; we gained the shore 
 
 Of yonder far-off isle. 
 And since then did I God implore 
 
 Once more on me to smile. 
 
 I thought Thou hadst my prayer heard. 
 
 Almighty Jove, but now 
 I see Thou turnedst from my word 
 
 E'en though I weep and bow. 
 
 I pray Thou wilt forgive my crime ; 
 
 I have it sore' atoned ; 
 And here, in this sequestered clime. 
 
 Have weary years I groaned 
 
 In misery, repentance, woe ; 
 
 Oh, do not cast me out, 
 But let me feel Thy mercy's glow 
 
 Which I did never doubt. 
 
 I dread my brother there to meet 
 
 Below in horrid hell, 
 As, wrapped in tears and fiery sheet. 
 
 Our souls w-ith pain shall swell. 
 
 I can't believe that I am damned ; 
 
 My crime was great, 'tis true ; 
 But I have ne'er repentance shammed ; 
 
 Sincerely do I woo 
 
 Thy grace, O God." He started up 
 
 From off his knees, and shot 
 A fiery glance; 'twas full, his cup 
 
 Of anguish, sad his lot. 
 
 " Oh tell mc not thou art from hell," 
 
 Unto the youth he cried. 
 " You piteous fool, you know it well," 
 
 Armillus him replied. 
 
 " This punishment you have deserved, 
 
 But she forgives you ; see. 
 She ne'er has from your teachings swerved ; 
 
 She loves you faithfully." 
 
 And willingly Carelta 'rose. 
 
 And threw herself into 
 The old man's arms, which 'round her froze ; 
 
 His troubles were not few. 
 
 Armillus then the sire addressed : 
 
 " You have not long to live, 
 And have so long your mind distressed 
 
 With folly, that I give 
 
 You no more happiness on earth ; 
 But if there's heaven above, 
 
 Then shall you rise into its birth. 
 And claim its rosate love. 
 
 I will not rob your heart the hope 
 That you may once reach there ; 
 
 'Twere vain, with senseless faith to cope : 
 And you'd no better fare. 
 
 You are extinct for love and life. 
 But this your niece will learn. 
 
 When she is once my loving wife, 
 Her mind from that to turn 
 
 Which is npt built on reason's crest, 
 Not rests on aught than creed. 
 
 Not stands of common .sense confessed, 
 Not from delusion freed. 
 
 You must be blind to think that I 
 
 A demon am, and come 
 To lend a face to that foul lie 
 
 Which is embraced in sum 
 
 In that rank faith which teaches you 
 
 Th' existence of a hell 
 Which should be then our final due 
 
 If we had done not well. 
 
 If there's a God on high, and he 
 
 Is merciful and great, 
 A hell, as you think, ne'er could be, 
 
 To nourish godly hate 
 
 'Gainst puny man, his soul condemn 
 
 To endless fire and pain, 
 God watch his ills with cruel phlegm. 
 
 And on him brimstone rain. 
 
 If there is such a hell below 
 
 The surface of the earth 
 As you've there placed for human woe, 
 
 Unto a Satan's mirth. 
 
 Then is there not a God on high 
 
 All-merciful and just, 
 His faithful creatures so to try 
 
 When they've returned to dust. 
 
 A man can ne'er commit a sin 
 
 That is so foul and dire 
 That he should burn in hell within, 
 
 In an eternal fire : 
 
 For man is not to be so held 
 
 For any act or deed 
 That he should be with torture swelled 
 
 Throughout all time. The creed 
 
 Which teaches that, is brutal, wrong, 
 
 Built on revenge and hate ; 
 It cannot be the theme of song 
 
 Of praise ; there's no such state. 
 
 The man who will implant the fear 
 
 Of hell into a child. 
 Alone is to that kingdom near. 
 
 Inferno 'mong us styled. 
 
ti2 
 
 THE INFERNAL COMEDY. 
 
 It may be well to hold that sword 
 
 Still o'er the rabble's head. 
 That order may be sovereign lord ; 
 
 But I would erst they fed 
 
 The people with anotherkind 
 
 Of teaching : science, art ; 
 They educated them to find 
 
 Than God's, another heart. 
 
 If once a man has gone as far 
 
 As to be free from thought 
 Which tends his reason so to mar. 
 
 He can be eas'ly brought 
 
 To see the motive which possessed 
 
 Our ancestors to think 
 That there is such a realm distressed 
 
 As hell, from which we shrink. 
 
 But how the world at large can hold 
 
 To such a shameful creed, 
 Is more than can in sense be told ; 
 
 'Tis wonderful indeed. 
 
 And there are thousands who consign 
 
 In thought a man to hell 
 As only punishment condign. 
 
 As though they meant it well 
 
 With him ; I would that they 
 
 Were 'mong the tortured elves; 
 Then, when they burn through night and day. 
 
 They'd know it for themselves 
 
 What fun it was to live fore'er 
 
 In sulphur and in fire ; 
 They 'd wish they'd never had a share 
 
 In crediting so dire 
 
 A perfidy ; let those who think 
 
 That there is such a place, 
 Be blessed by it, but let me shrink 
 
 From such a brutal race 
 
 Of men who rate their fellows so 
 
 That they believe that one 
 In all the world deserves to go 
 
 To hell, and be undone. 
 
 The doctrine's false, the doctrine's wrong. 
 
 The doctrine is a snare : 
 It will not live to sully long 
 
 The intellect, and bear 
 
 Its fruit in folly, ignorance. 
 
 Stupidity and shame. 
 But will from reason's shield off glance. 
 
 Forever robbed of fame. 
 
 The time is past when faith and creed 
 
 Together rule the world. 
 And plant in hearts their poisoned seed ; 
 
 Their banners now are furled. 
 
 And laid away in dusty past, 
 Besiiieared with many a blot, 
 
 In ignominious silence cast. 
 And given o'er to rot. 
 
 Some few still hang on as of old, 
 But these will soon drop off. 
 
 And cling to quite another hold 
 Not sanctified with scoff. 
 
 Derision from the scientist. 
 
 The thinker and the sage. 
 Who 'gainst it common sense enlist. 
 
 And ban it from the age. 
 
 And now I bid you come with me. 
 
 Return once more to life ; 
 I will your friend and brother be ; 
 
 Your niece shall be my wife. 
 
 You have repented of your crime ; 
 
 Repent of folly too. 
 As you have taught in this far clime. 
 
 The warriors' grace to woo." 
 
 The aged man, with tears in eye. 
 
 Held out his skinny hand. 
 The moon broke out upon the sky 
 
 Effulgent o'er the land. 
 
 The trio shaped its footsteps to 
 
 The murmuring sea below, 
 And placed itself in a canoe 
 
 From thence fore'er to go. 
 
 Armillus took the oars, and plied 
 
 Them with his sturdy arms 
 Until the isle from vision died 
 
 Into the night-mists' charms. 
 
 And so the portent of the fill 
 
 Of faith upon the isle 
 E'en was fulfilled ; freed from that thrall 
 
 It might in splendor smile 
 
 For centuries upon the sea. 
 
 The green float on the blue, 
 A gem, nor fated long to be 
 
 The cannibal's taboo. 
 
 The morning broke in purple .sheens 
 
 Upon the swelling wave. 
 And spread its lustre o'er the scenes 
 
 Which me my topic gave. 
 
 A few short hours, and then they struck 
 
 Upon the other shore 
 Where all had had the self-same luck 
 
 To be received before 
 
 They met ; as grated on the sand 
 The boat, the warriors stood 
 
 In wonder at the three at hand 
 In imity, nor could 
 
 They understand what all this meant, 
 
 Or what might be inferred. 
 But all had the presentiment 
 
 That something had occurred 
 
 I 
 
THE DA WM OF REASON. 
 
 1^3 
 
 That would affect th' entire race ; 
 
 And Loti caught the line 
 Armillus threw with smiling face 
 
 Unto him, with a sign 
 
 To aid Carelta from her seat ; 
 
 And when the three were out. 
 With curiosity there beat 
 
 Each heart, while joyous shout 
 
 Arose from hundred eager lips ' 
 
 Assembled there around. 
 Here balancing upon the tips 
 
 Of toes, there on the ground 
 
 In comfort stretched • the old man stepped 
 
 Into the fluttering raid ; 
 But as the}" all upon him leapt. 
 
 He them stand off him bid : 
 
 " I come not here to be received 
 
 Your priest, as you of yore 
 Have me within your hearts believed. 
 
 And thus did me adore ; 
 
 1 come to say that what I've taught 
 
 Before I left, will I, 
 Because it was in error wrought. 
 
 Recall before I die. 
 
 This stranger here has shown to me 
 
 The folly of my creed. 
 And so I shall in future be 
 
 Your tutor, you to lead 
 
 Into another sphere of life 
 
 As appertains your prayer. 
 So that you may for reason rife 
 
 Be in due reason, e'er 
 
 I shall betake me from the scene, 
 
 And be forever mute ; 
 I would not leave this isle so green 
 
 E'er I did me refute 
 
 The doctrine I have in this place 
 
 Expounded, ere I went 
 From hence, unto your kindly race. 
 
 And years in thinking spent 
 
 On subjects I must now announce 
 
 As in another light 
 Than that which did my reason flounce 
 
 When first I met your sight. 
 
 The angel whom I once to you 
 Have sent, my thanks to bear. 
 
 Now standing blushingly in view. 
 No more will with me share 
 
 My hermitage on yonder shore. 
 
 But will Armillus wed, 
 This stranger whom you'll see no more 
 
 He'll occupy my stead 
 
 Of sweet protectorship to her; 
 I freely give her up. 
 
 And do not think that much I err 
 To let her share his cup. 
 
 The prophecy is not fulfilled ; 
 
 That island there is safe : 
 We will not be in anger killed 
 
 By any God, and chafe 
 
 Eternally in hell for sins 
 
 We have committed here. 
 To be tormented by the grins 
 
 Of goblins, live in fear 
 
 Of frightful tortures ever fresh 
 
 To give us constant pain. 
 To burn into our wincing flesh 
 
 Until we are insane. 
 
 I thank you for the favors shown 
 
 To me and to this pair. 
 And will for errors past atone 
 
 By teaching you to bear 
 
 Another creed, the dawning light 
 
 Of this our century. 
 To pall the other in our sight. 
 
 Our banner fair to see." 
 
 And as he spoke, a swelling sail 
 
 Was seen upon the sea. 
 Our hero in his heart cried hail ; 
 
 Now was he soon to be 
 
 Among his fellow men once more; 
 
 In cities proud and great, 
 Where he would settle to adore 
 
 His wife, his new'-won mate. 
 
 He caused a fire at once to be 
 
 There lit upon the sand, 
 The pilot on that ship might see. 
 
 And bear him from this land. 
 
 And lo, the swelling sail grew bright 
 Each moment more and more, 
 
 A gallant ship hove into sight 
 Of that e.xcited shore. 
 
 And see, a puff of snow-white smoke 
 
 Came whirling out its side. 
 An answering sign which them bespoke 
 
 They would not long abide 
 
 Upon the isle. Armillus grasped 
 
 Carelta by the hand. 
 Her supple waist most gently clasped. 
 
 To help her off the sand 
 
 Once more into the frail canoe 
 
 Where they together sat 
 Within the cheering warriors' view. 
 
 The aged theocrat 
 
 With loving mien upon them gazed. 
 
 With hand upon his heart ; 
 His sunken eyes with feeling glazed 
 
 To see them thus depart. 
 
114 
 
 THE INFERNAL COMEDY. 
 
 Armillus cried : " Why stand you there? 
 
 Come follow us to meet 
 The flying ship, our voyage share. 
 
 And other climates greet. 
 
 The old man sadly shook his head : 
 
 " I will not go with thee; 
 Go thou with her whom thou wilt wed 
 
 Alone across the sea. 
 
 1 have determined here to stay 
 
 Until the end of life ; 
 It Cometh nigh, the final day, 
 
 The settlement of strife. 
 
 1 bless thee with all heart and soul ; 
 
 Thou art a noble youth ; 
 Thou hast in splendor yet to roll. 
 
 And to proclaim the truth 
 
 Unto the world in reference to 
 
 The creed it rates so high ; 
 Then go, thy fortune's smile to woo. 
 
 And leave me here to die. 
 
 I've lived my life, and would not see 
 
 That busy world again 
 Where I have wrought such misery, 
 
 And have my brother slain. 
 
 In this so beautiful abode, 
 
 Will I my days conclude. 
 To teach this race the reason's code 
 
 With which thou art imbued. 
 
 And she that lived with me so long. 
 
 May she thy help-mate be ; 
 I taught her nothing but was wrong ; 
 
 I freely give her thee. 
 
 Farewell to thee, farewell to her. 
 
 Farewell unto you both ; 
 Go out thy mission to aver. 
 
 And consummate your troth." 
 
 The old man turned upon his heel, 
 
 And knelt upon the ground ; 
 There was no heart that did not feel 
 
 His woe ; and all around, 
 
 The eyes were misty, lips were mute. 
 And souls e.xcessive' touched ; 
 
 No smiling face betrayed a brute ; 
 The chief the sire's hand clutched. 
 
 And spoke a word of sympathy ; 
 
 And still the ship hove nigh ; 
 Carelta wept ; and feelingly, 
 
 Armillus heaved a sigh. 
 
 And then he grasped the ashen oar ; 
 
 The boat shot swift" into 
 The waves from oflfthe yielding shore 
 
 Away out from their view. 
 
 Armillus, with his heart so full 
 It nearly burst, stopped short 
 
 In effort, ceased to pull ; 
 And this the warriors caught : 
 
 " Farewell, thou hospitable race. 
 
 That welcomed in thy mid 
 That aged man with stricken face, 
 
 Aftd her who will be hid 
 
 Forever from your sight, to learn 
 What else the world contains. 
 
 How other interests clash and turn. 
 What curious' wrought refrains 
 
 Are heard in other lands than this. 
 Where men are black and white. 
 
 Or bask in sere Mongolian bliss. 
 An orange to the sight. 
 
 I thank thee for thy goodly fare. 
 And, too, that through my fate 
 
 Your isles among, fell to my share 
 So dearly loved a mate. 
 
 I leave you, men and wives, and boys 
 
 And girls, to listen to 
 Your priest to tell of other joys 
 
 Than frivolous taboo. 
 
 I cannot place a better price 
 
 Upon what you did me 
 Than rob you of your paradise. 
 
 And leave you surety 
 
 Of common sense, harmonious thought, 
 
 Philosophy in glow 
 Of reason's light in beauty wrought ; 
 
 'Tis all I can bestow. 
 
 But that is much, fur all the world 
 
 Will leap to grasp the gift 
 When faith shall be from altars hurled, 
 
 And it the truth shall sift 
 
 From error and from monstrous creed ; 
 
 Then not ungrateful think 
 My seeming' small and niggard' meed. 
 
 Nor from my offering shrink. 
 
 I'll hold in grateful memory 
 
 The days I passed with you. 
 And shall not cease me thankfully 
 
 To keep you in my view 
 
 Where'er I go, where'er I speak, 
 
 Whatever be my lot : 
 My heart will always stray to seek 
 
 Again this hallowed spot. 
 
 And you, revered and honored sir. 
 
 Whom, too, I leave behind. 
 Who gives so freely to me her 
 
 To whom so good and kind 
 
 You've tried to be through all these years ; 
 
 I leave you with a pang ; 
 Carelta leaves with many tears. 
 
 With not a hope to hang 
 
THE DA IVN OF REASON. 
 
 115 
 
 On ever seeing you again ; 
 
 You have a hero's heart ; 
 Yours is a strangely sturdy brain, 
 
 To leave us thus to part 
 
 Krum you who stays in poverty 
 
 And age 'midst foreign folk, 
 While we are seeking luxury ; 
 
 With deep regret I choke. 
 
 You have atoned for what you've done ; 
 
 I leave you conscience-free ; 
 You have the crown of glorj' won 
 
 Which full hearts cheerfully 
 
 Accord to one who is so great ; 
 
 May you in honor dwell 
 E'en in this rude and simple state : 
 
 I bid you all farewell. 
 
 Armillus leaves, to die once more 
 
 Out in this curious world. 
 Upon some far-off, unknown shore 
 
 Perchance in error hurled, 
 
 Which he must .set out to reform. 
 
 And lead unto the right. 
 Sweep off their doctrine's filth in storm. 
 
 And introduce the light 
 
 Of reason in their piteous state. 
 
 And break the priestly spell ; 
 Armillus feels him wondrous' great : 
 
 He bids you all farewell." 
 
 Once more he plied the supple oar ; 
 
 He had no more to tell ; 
 There floated back unto the shore 
 
 His last " Farewell !" — " Farewell ;" 
 
 They saw him reach the ship, and then 
 
 Another cloud of smoke , 
 AVas seen ; how cheered those savage men : 
 
 They knew Armillus spoke 
 
 His final greeting. In the mist 
 
 Out on the bright, blue sea, 
 To sight the sail was soon dismissed ; 
 
 There must dismiss it we. 
 
 CANTO VI. 
 
 THE KETIRN TO NOTHING. 
 
 YOU little know, O reader dear, 
 What deep emotions fill 
 My heart, as now the end T near. 
 What sentiments me thrill. 
 
 For years I've dreamt these verses out ; 
 Through many nights and days 
 
 Have I pursued my inky route, 
 My fancy in a maze. 
 
 And now my work will soon be done. 
 
 This labor of the past, 
 The recompense of patience won ; 
 
 Here am I at the last 
 
 Refrain, the canto which will close 
 
 Upon the troubled scenes 
 I have portrayed, oft acrimose', 
 
 Oft merrily, the means 
 
 Of many an hour of pleasure, of 
 
 Sincere and heartfelt joy. 
 But troublesome as is the love 
 
 Of some pale love-sick boy. 
 
 I thank my friends who watched me through 
 
 This long, exciting work, 
 And had with me the end in view ; 
 
 They never saw me shrink 
 
 The prospects on the plodding 'twould 
 
 For months on me entail ; 
 And now ray purpose I've made good ; 
 
 It is too late to fail. 
 
 I've had these verses on my tongue 
 
 So often, I'm afraid 
 I'll disappoint the many 'mong 
 
 My friends whom oft I made 
 
 The victims of my poet's pride. 
 
 And told about this verse ; 
 I fear I've gone the mark too wide. 
 
 And they a fool will curse 
 
 Me for my groundless vanity ; 
 
 Howe'er, I've done my best. 
 And pride me that Christianity 
 
 Will hate me ; and the rest, 
 
 I trust, will not be too severe 
 
 Upon my clumsy art ; 
 That would be paying rather dear 
 
 For years of toil : my part 
 
 Has always been an honest one ; 
 
 I crave no genius' meed 
 For what has off my pen here run ; 
 
 I care but to succeed 
 
 In the impression of my theme 
 
 Upon an idle world ; 
 If this should prove a futile dream. 
 
 Then be oblivion furled 
 
 About my verse ; the days I lost 
 
 In putting forth this rhyme. 
 Might have me somewhat dearer cost ; 
 
 It was well spent, my time. 
 
 Perhaps I've failed in that I've been 
 
 Familiar in my tone 
 With whom me scan ; that were a sin 
 
 I would not bear alone. 
 
Ii6 
 
 THE INFERNAL COMEDY. 
 
 Since august authors left their thread 
 
 To chat an off-hand word 
 With those who have their fictions read, 
 
 Nor critics have demurred. 
 
 A writer in unmeasured prose 
 
 Can well his way pursue 
 In rigid lines and even flows. 
 
 But that can seldom do 
 
 The poet who from out the heart 
 
 Drafts topics, and the tongue 
 In which he clads them ; fancy's dart 
 
 Is not from bow-string sprung 
 
 Of straight-laced tenure ; he not guides 
 
 The pen that flies from line 
 To line, but follows it, and bides. 
 
 As does the frost the vine, 
 
 His time to master it again ; 
 
 He does that when 'tis done 
 And is at end, th' inspired strain ; 
 
 Then is the battle won. 
 
 But while the strain goes on, he writes 
 
 What him the heart dictates 
 In often most eccentric flights. 
 
 Nor for an order waits 
 
 From his disgusted, outraged mind 
 
 To here expand th' idea. 
 And there it into form to bind. 
 
 To mesh with order's gear. 
 
 And here I find myself once more 
 
 From topic run away. 
 To please th' impulsive heart, and soar 
 
 Into the maze astray 
 
 Of meaningless and idle cant, 
 
 As thinks the sober sense 
 Of unloved mind, which bids me chant 
 
 My song without defence. 
 
 Alas, I feel as though this last 
 
 Of cantos is too small 
 To hold what I would glad' have classed 
 
 Within its narrow thrall ; 
 
 I feel as though I might expand 
 
 It till th' entire rest 
 Were less than it, to take its stand 
 
 As mightiest confessed 
 
 Of my most heart'elt thoughts and ways, 
 
 Yet must I cut it short, 
 And tell the rest wrapped 'round with stays, 
 
 In curtailed parlance caught. 
 
 It ought to be the best of all, 
 
 Much better than the first, 
 And 'neath no reader's censure fall ; 
 
 I fear 'twill be the worst. 
 
 For then my weary pen was fresh. 
 And not as now, so fagged 
 
 It will no more with spirit mesh 
 Into my theme ; it lagged 
 
 When I began the final strain ; 
 
 I hope it will revive, 
 And live to effort up again ; 
 
 With animation strive 
 
 To make the close a worthy one 
 
 To all this lengthy work ; 
 Then may it be fore'er undone ; 
 
 Till then, it must not shirk. 
 
 Armillus might have found a pen 
 That would have better writ' 
 
 His history for eager men 
 To swallow ; sorry wit 
 
 Have I displayed in my account ; 
 
 Yet must he me forgive. 
 For I have striven hard to flount 
 
 His banner, that to live 
 
 Eternally this verse may be 
 
 Yet fated, and thus save 
 His name from the ignoni'my 
 
 Of unsung hero's grave. 
 
 I much suspect that well he fared 
 
 Since last I saw him, when 
 He with his love the farewell shared 
 
 Accorded him by men 
 
 Of savage ilk, but who bestowed 
 
 Most freely what they felt, 
 When he in sorrow, from them vowed. 
 
 Their every heart to melt. 
 
 For ere full many years had passed, 
 
 I heard some curious tales 
 From Paris brilliant, gay and fast ; 
 
 My shrewdness seldom fails 
 
 To recognize what me concerns ; 
 
 The tales attracted my 
 Attention, e'en through struggles' turns. 
 
 When first they met my eye. 
 
 I will relate what I have heard 
 
 As though I had been there. 
 But cannot vouch for every word 
 
 That falls into your share. 
 
 There came one day in pompous style 
 
 Unto a grand hotel 
 An equipage, with chasseurs' file 
 
 Its elegance to swell, 
 
 And on the register was placed 
 
 A princely sounding name. 
 To no immediate family traced. 
 
 But not devoid of fame. 
 
 The man who bore that name was young 
 
 And handsome as a god. 
 From surely noble lineage sprung, 
 
 But from a foreign sod. 
 
THE DA WN OF REASON. 
 
 117 
 
 And with him came a wife and child, 
 
 The latter with its nurse 
 From Switzerland ; the tongues went wild 
 
 In Paris, to rehearse 
 
 The wealth and splendor of their train, 
 
 The beauty of the pair. 
 Patrician mien ^nd high disdain 
 
 They with them 'round did bear. 
 
 The wife but few had caught a glance 
 Of, but these few soon spread 
 
 Descriptions of her looks that chance 
 Had shown them, and they said 
 
 Her face was of a dusky hue, 
 
 But beautiful and sweet. 
 And so entrancing to the view. 
 
 To see it was a treat. 
 
 Some curious parties went to see 
 What meant this great furore. 
 
 And chased to the authority' 
 Who looked the matter o'er. 
 
 And told them how the noble house 
 From which the stranger sprang, 
 
 Had been the victim of a chouse 
 With which the country rang. 
 
 The only scion of the tree 
 
 Of family might, a boy, 
 Had been abducted knavishly. 
 
 With sorrow to alloy 
 
 His parents' pride in him, by one 
 
 Who had some dark design 
 To see the little heir undone. 
 
 And follow in the line 
 
 Of heritage ; the knave was caught, 
 
 But he had not the child ; 
 He had it to the Indians brought 
 
 To bring it up there wild 
 
 Becau.se he had the courage not 
 
 To stab the babe to heart ; 
 And so he left it to its lot. 
 
 To play some homely part 
 
 In other spheres ; he lost the track 
 
 Of him he had so wronged ; 
 And they the clew to find him lacked, 
 
 To whom the boy belonged. 
 
 The fellow suffered for his crime, 
 But brought not back the boy ; 
 
 The parents' wound healed up in time. 
 But never new a joy 
 
 Again in life, and passed away. 
 And left their wealth behind, 
 
 The only heir far off astray ; 
 And him no one could find. 
 
 The boy, deserted thus when still 
 A babe, was taken up 
 
 By gpysies, much against its will ; 
 Most bitter was its cup. 
 
 In early boyhood he escaped 
 Through some display of pluck ; 
 
 And then his destiny him shaped 
 A better streak of luck. 
 
 A nabob took the handsome lad. 
 
 Attached him to his home. 
 And died ; the boy was very sad. 
 
 But needed not to roam 
 
 Astray again ; because the old 
 
 Philanthropist him left 
 A fortune ; and the heir now rolled. 
 
 Of further care bereft. 
 
 In lu.xury, and lived a life 
 
 Of ease and revelry. 
 By nature for the vicious rife ; 
 
 He floated in a sea 
 
 Of high extremes, until, one day. 
 His friends him missed ; he fell 
 
 In duel with one wronged, they say; 
 But they could never tell 
 
 If he was dead, or still alive. 
 
 Nor did they o'ermuch care, 
 As long as they were left to thrive. 
 
 How did the lost one fare. 
 
 And now he came with wife and child 
 
 Once more unto the sod 
 Where he was now patrician styled. 
 
 Escaped from misery's rod. 
 
 They knew him by a mole he had 
 
 Upon his shoulder blade ; 
 You may believe the man was glad 
 
 To be an heir thus made. 
 
 So far his antecedents run ; 
 
 But that's the least I heard ; 
 There is the interest but begun : 
 
 The rest may sound absurd. 
 
 But is no less the truth ; our peer 
 
 Had peculiarities ; 
 The folks were pleased to call him queer. 
 
 And were not slow to seize 
 
 The facts, to noise his fame about ; 
 
 It seemed he was inclined 
 To be a monomaniac, flout 
 
 Eccentric ways of mind 
 
 Into the public eye and ear ; 
 
 When a procession passed 
 Of churchly phase, then he would sneer. 
 
 And in a rage be cast. 
 
 He would not bow, nor would he doff 
 
 His hat unto the priest. 
 But met his sanctity with scoff. 
 
 To say the very least. 
 
izB 
 
 THE INFERNAL CO MED V. 
 
 And when he passed a church, his brow 
 
 Contracted to a frown. 
 As if he registered a vow 
 
 To hew the building down. 
 
 Where'er he met with fast or prayer. 
 
 His lurid eye would flash ; 
 The sight of cross he could not bear ; 
 
 All over he would dash 
 
 The sight of whate'er faith concerned 
 
 Away, and speak a curse ; 
 His olive cheeks with anger burned 
 
 Where'er he caught a verse 
 
 That praised the Virgin ; once he e'en 
 Harangued a motley crowd. 
 
 And vented in harsh tongue his spleen 
 'Gainst faith, both fierce' and loud'. 
 
 He sent a book against the church, 
 And damned it up and down, 
 
 And left forbearance in the lurch ; 
 He earned a great renown 
 
 As preacher 'gainst the orthodox 
 
 Religions, Catholic 
 And Protestant; with crushing knocks 
 
 Assailed them, fast and thick. 
 
 He was too great a peer to be 
 
 Molested by police; 
 They let him preach his heresy. 
 
 And gave our hero lease 
 
 To say and do what best him pleased. 
 And so he preached and wrote. 
 
 His heart of its resentment eased, 
 And cowl and cossack smote. 
 
 The people was astounded by 
 
 His wondrous eloquence 
 Which he employed its faith to try, 
 
 His learning, common sense. 
 
 And many won he to him o'er 
 
 Their creed to leave behind. 
 To study scientific lore 
 
 And be no longer blind. 
 
 'Tis true, the church was much incensed 
 
 But could not do him aught. 
 Or of his presence there be cleansed ; 
 
 He was not to be caught 
 
 With excommunication, but 
 Laughed all their anger down. 
 
 Upon their anathemas shut 
 With rare derision ; town 
 
 And country were inflamed by all 
 He hurled against the cross ; 
 
 He exercised a weighty thrall. 
 And won from out their dross 
 
 Full many thousands of the herd 
 That had before adored 
 
 The faith ; some said he was absurd. 
 But could not shake him, stored 
 
 In intellect as this man then 
 
 Appeared before the world, 
 A master-mind before all men, 
 
 In iron tenets furled. 
 
 That could not be gainsayed ; he won 
 
 1 he day ; the atheists grew 
 In number with each dawning sun ; 
 
 Who stayed behind, were few. 
 
 When he had spent some years in so 
 His doctrines spreading 'round 
 
 In FVance, and routed had his foe. 
 Across his way he founcl 
 
 To England, there to carry strife 
 
 And war against the creed. 
 And struggle 'gainst it to the knife. 
 
 Obtain tor reason meed. 
 
 That hot-bed of fanfitic thought 
 
 Received the preacher well. 
 Against his expectations ; fought 
 
 Their way to hear him tell 
 
 Then how they were mistaken in 
 
 Their dogma and belief. 
 How they had e'ei in error been, 
 
 These Britons ; gave them leave 
 
 To roundly them abuse, and hurl 
 His shafts against the cross — 
 
 Britannian is a fickle girl; 
 Armillus won the toss. 
 
 The ministry arose in arms 
 
 Against the anti-Christ, 
 And tried to work him untold harms. 
 
 Their wits too highly priced. 
 
 They and a faithful few might rave. 
 
 And fall upon their knees. 
 In Christian mind, his soul to save ; 
 
 He told them they should please 
 
 Not trouble him : he feared not hell. 
 
 For he had once been king 
 Of those same realms on other shell, 
 
 And heard the angels sing. 
 
 They thought the man was mad, but he 
 
 Went on to preach his word 
 Against their sad Christianity, 
 
 And all Britannian heard. 
 
 And was amazed ; the faith was wrecked, 
 
 The church was in alarm. 
 And might no more stand up erect ; 
 
 There was no succoring arm 
 
 To rescue it from final doom ; 
 
 They'd had, like dog, their day. 
 And would soon rot down in the tomb. 
 
 Forever o'er, their sway. 
 
THE DAWN OF REASON. 
 
 iig 
 
 The climax came one Sunday morn, 
 
 When all the devotees 
 Had gone to church, now so forlorn, 
 
 And lay upon their knees. 
 
 Amonij them was this tierce adept 
 
 In philosophic lore. 
 Who all their tenets had o'erleapt : 
 
 They'd win resi)ect no more. 
 
 He 'rose from out his seat and pew. 
 
 And bid them praying stop. 
 That he might be allowed a few 
 
 Remarks on them to drop. 
 
 The minister was so amazed. 
 
 He coijld not say a word : 
 The Congregation, too, was dazed ; 
 
 And this is what they heard : 
 
 " If there's a Christ on high. He will 
 
 Avenge upon my head 
 The heresy I did instill 
 
 Into the people, fed 
 
 Into their intellect and heart, — 
 
 Confound me for my fame. 
 Condemn me my rebellious part. 
 
 And hound me into shame. 
 
 If there's a 'Mighty God on high 
 
 To hear what now I say 
 Within these ' sacred' walls, and I 
 
 Should here refuse to pray ; 
 
 Instead him curse into His teeth. 
 
 His power Him deny. 
 Renounce His glory here beneath, 
 
 And give Him back the lie, — 
 
 Then would He strike me, where I stood. 
 
 With lightning on the head. 
 Reveal in storm His angry mood. 
 
 And me with torture wed 
 
 Eternally, in hell lielow. 
 
 Me roast in livid flame ; 
 I would if I were God, I know ; 
 
 I would uphold my fame. 
 
 I see you grant me I am right ; 
 
 Then listen to me well ; 
 And if I tremble in your sight, 
 
 1 will endure your hell." 
 
 He sprang into the pulpit, and, 
 
 With courage for his guide. 
 Raised in the air a fisted hand, 
 
 And to the heavens this cried : 
 
 " Accursed be Thou, vindictive God, 
 
 For all the evil brought 
 By Thee upon this earthly sod. 
 
 For all the error taught 
 
 By Thee unto Thy creatures here 
 Assembled on this earth. 
 
 For all the sin, fanatic fear 
 Thy word has given birth, 
 
 For all the blood which Thou hast shed. 
 
 Recorded in Thy Writ, 
 For all the men for Thee are dead. 
 
 Crazed martyrs on the spit. 
 
 Accursed be Thou for placing hell 
 
 Below to torture souls 
 With fiendish hate and fiery swell 
 
 When they have reached their goals. 
 
 I call on Thee to answer me 
 
 The anti-Christ, if Thou 
 Existest, to bring misery 
 
 And death upon me now. 
 
 See, I deny Thee, fear Thee not ; 
 
 I challenge Thee to strife ; 
 I stake on this th' eternal lot 
 
 Of soul in other life." 
 
 The blasphemy was out, the church 
 
 Was hushed, the people all 
 Had left assurance in the lurch ; 
 
 Upon their knees they fiiU, 
 
 And hide their faces in their hands ; 
 
 The minister had swooned, 
 The deacons gave no more commands. 
 
 The organ was untuned. 
 
 The sun smiled in, and never winked, 
 The heavens remained as blue 
 
 As though Armillus ne'er had linked 
 Fair reason to his view ; 
 
 There was no thunderbolt to strike 
 
 Armillus where he stood ; 
 He was unharmed, unshaken, like 
 
 Those in a fearful mood 
 
 Of godly vengeance ; it ne'er came ; 
 
 The challenge was refused ; 
 The blasphemy heaped scorn and shame 
 
 On Him Whom it abused. 
 
 " There is no God !" Armillus cried, 
 " And I have proved it here ; 
 
 Go home, and take with sense your side. 
 Nor stop to waste a tear 
 
 On shattered altars, .shaken creeds, 
 
 But let your every thought 
 Be to enact but noble deeds. 
 
 In reason ever caught. 
 
 Your minister lies in a swoon ; 
 
 What if he swear and foam ; 
 He is a sad and vanquished loon ; 
 
 Good people all, go home." 
 
 They went. The mission was fulfilled 
 That brought Armillus there ; 
 
 He had the voice of error stilled ; 
 It ne'er again would dare 
 
I20 
 
 THE INFERNAL COMEDY. 
 
 To raise too high its voice or head. 
 
 Or shout aloud its chaff; 
 Its power was forever dead : 
 
 There was a general laugh. 
 
 The challenger of heaven with grace 
 Bowed out himself, and turned 
 
 To other lands and scenes his face. 
 And there religion spurned 
 
 With like success; and whtn he'd been 
 The whole wide world him o'er. 
 
 He settled down himself to win, 
 Upon his native shore, 
 
 A peaceful climax to his days ; 
 
 He and his lovely wife. 
 Now tired of all their early frays, 
 
 Determined to make life 
 
 A pleasure to each other, and 
 Their children, on whom spent 
 
 They love with kind and lavish hand ; 
 And so the years by went 
 
 Until their locks were silvery gray ; 
 
 They went to sleep one night. 
 And never did another day 
 
 They on this planet sight. 
 
 Nor on another ; they had passed 
 
 Into eternity 
 Of dusty death, from hellish blast 
 
 And heavenly rapture free. 
 
 Come shed a tear upon the grave 
 
 Of him you have pursued 
 Through all these pages ; that to save. 
 
 Were this contemptuous' viewed, — 
 
 And many centuries came on, — 
 
 I write beyond all time, — 
 And periods in old age grew wan, 
 
 And yet flows on my rhyme. 
 
 The human race was at an end. 
 Lost in a species strange, 
 
 The Darwin doctrine to befriend. 
 Through many eras' range. 
 
 And somewhere near the end of all 
 
 Things, fell our earth into 
 The sun, freed from its orbit's thrall, 
 
 That livid breast to woo. 
 
 And all its sister planets joined 
 
 The earth whereto it fell. 
 From their far distant paths purloined, 
 
 In thundering pell-mell. 
 
 The mass was melted by the shocks, 
 
 And filled the shell within 
 With boiling liquid, till the rocks 
 
 Were melted too, the din 
 
 In heaven and hell increasing till 
 
 The huge eniphyreal shell, 
 With quaking mounts and mighty thrill. 
 
 Into some huge sun fell. 
 
 And with it, many shells unknown 
 
 To frail astronomy. 
 On no chart earthly ever shown ; 
 
 All sphere-life ceased to be. 
 
 All space was filled with hydrogen 
 
 As it had been of yore, 
 E'er plants and animals and men 
 
 E.xisted, is.sue bore. 
 
 In infinite time, the infinite space 
 
 Contracted into naught. 
 Despatched and vanished from the face 
 
 Of all things, fairly brought 
 
 To end. And so all time was done. 
 
 The mighty history 
 At length its final threads had spun ; 
 
 The huge eternity 
 
 Was brought to close. 'Tis writ', the tale ; 
 
 At end, th' infernal spell ; 
 My pen is dull, my ink is pale ; 
 
 I bid you all farewell. 
 
 THE END OF THE DAWN OF REASON.; 
 
 '-^^TECE ElsTID^^ 
 
 C^IJ^FE^MAL COME^Y.^r^ 
 
INFERNAL STATISTICS. 
 
 THE SIZE OF "THE INFERNAL COMEDY. 
 
 BOOK 1. CANTO 1 57 228 
 
 II 37 148 
 
 III 88 ]52 
 
 IV .11 164 
 
 V So 220 
 
 VI 39 156 
 
 Length of Book I. 267 1008 
 
 BOOK IV. CANTO I 138 552 
 
 II 87 348 
 
 III 124 496 
 
 IV 144 576 
 
 V 79 316 
 
 VI 72 288 
 
 Length of Book IV. 644 2576 
 
 BOOK II. CANJO 1 89 356 
 
 II 90 360 
 
 III 99 396 
 
 IV 108 432 
 
 V. 116 42J 
 
 VI 115 460 
 
 Lenjrtli of Book II. (j()7 2128 
 
 BOOK V. CANTO 1 112 448 
 
 II 121 484 
 
 III 131 524 
 
 IV 137 548 
 
 V 144 576 
 
 VI 142 568 
 
 Length of Book V. 787 3118 
 
 BOOK III. (;aNTO 1 85 310 
 
 ir 74 296 
 
 III 81 324 
 
 IV 84 336 
 
 V 102 408 
 
 VI 88 353 
 
 Length of Book III. 514 2056 
 
 LENGTH OF BOOK 1 267 1068 
 
 II 607 2428 
 
 III 514 2056 
 
 IV 644 2576 
 
 V 787 3148 
 
 Length of "The Infernal Comedy.'" 2819 11,276 
 
TO AMERICA'S 
 
 CRITICAL AUTHORITIES. 
 
 I 
 
 Before you lies a copy of the Advance Edition of The Infernal Comedy. First 
 read the preface, then read the work itself, and then judge it. You are earnestly requested 
 to read the work through to the end, and to suspend judgment until you have finished its 
 perusal. The author prays that you may criticize the work at length, in detail, and in all 
 its bearings. 
 
 This Advance Edition was published for you. The present form of the poem is its 
 original, crude one. It was printed as fast as it was written. The author desires to profit 
 by your corrections and suggestions in the preparation of the work for the second press. 
 Please pass your judgment upon it, be that judgment what it may, be it harsh or lenient, 
 condemnatory or laudatory, come it from friend or foe. 
 
 When ihe author began this work, he already realized that he could never persuade a 
 publisher to undertake the publication of the same in book form by s'mply presenting the 
 manuscript for examinition. He therefore bethought himself of an original way to reach 
 the publisher's attention. He determined to print the work in the form in which it now lies 
 before you, and to deliver it over to your tender mercies for a verdict. He awaits that 
 verdict now. He intends collecting all criticisms reaching him through the press or by 
 letter, without suppression, abridgment or alteration, and sending his collection of criticisms, 
 together with a copy of the work itself, to every responsible publisher in the country, 
 requesting an offer for the copyright. 
 
 The author begs you to aid him in this scheme by sending him your opinion of the 
 present work. If you are a member of the press, he prays that you will be so kind as to 
 send him, by mail, to the address below, a copy of the paper in which your criticism appears. 
 He asks this as a personal favor. You see that he is frank with you. Will you lend a 
 helping hand to enable to carry out his purpose to the end ? . You will aid him by 
 contributing your criticism to the contemplated collection, be it adverse or favorable. 
 
 If you are the bearer of a name already famous in letters, will you consider it below 
 your dignity to extend a friendly word to him ? 
 
 The book herewith is free to you ; nobody else can purchase a copy of the present 
 edition at any price. Copies are sent only to those whose judgment on his work the author 
 thinks worth having. You will consider the receipt hereof an invitation to send your written 
 or printed judgment on "The Infernal Comedy" to 
 
 RICHARD GERNER, 
 
 No. 4 Eleventh Street, Hoboben, N. J. 
 
 lEJa'3!