Then hath not war, that bringeth woe and pain,
The right betimes, like gentle peace, to reign?
What strife, what tempest, wreaks its wrath in vain?
Prosperity and persecution blend,
As sun and storm, faith's branch with fruit to bend.
Twain are the shoulders[9] of the Philistine,
That Israel onward bear, as breeze and brine
The tempest-driven bark that safe o'er sea 2790
Carried calm Caesar[10] and his destiny.
Progression fails with opposition's flight,
And darkness is but handmaid unto light.
Mistrustful of "the law of liberty[11],"
Sounding from far the doom of slavery,
Maddened by jealous fear, the Gentile sees
Peril in purling stream, in whispering breeze,
Telling of wondrous thrift, of mystic power,
Of spirit gifts—the Bride's becoming dower;
Sees menace[12] in that migrant fold's increase, 2800
A menace to his power, his pride, his peace;
And, as of old, when Egypt's despot frowned
On Jacob's increase, growth from fruitful ground,
Or when fell Herod, fain to slay life's Lord,
Pierced Rachel's bosom with unpitying sword;
With feigned or real suspicion of intent
That could but lurk in minds by malice bent,
And ne'er found lodgment in the dreams of those
Now fearfully beset by whelming foes,
Force joins with fraud, impelled by lust of crime, 2810
And innocence bewails the evil time.
A second Pharaoh now o'er Israel see!
A Herod[13] in the home of Liberty!
Where wingĕd Nemesis shall find her own,
Gathering the whirlwind[14] where the wind was sown.
Friendless, unsheltered, forth the exiles go,
Lit by their burning homes athwart the snow,
Till crimson footprints stamp the frozen path,
And icy billows bar them from the wrath
Of cruel fiends, whose fellows, masked as men, 2820
Where languish sons of light in darksome den,
Gloat, while they guard, and flout with jest obscene
The helpless victims of that heartless scene;
Exulting foully, boastingly, the while,
O'er deeds none else than devils would defile.
Till patience, past enduring, dures no more;
Heard, above jackal's yell, the lion's roar.
Thunders and flames Jehovah's threatening rod,
And shakes the dungeon[15] with the wrath of God—
A lightning tongue to scorch His cowering foes, 2830
And scourge them to the kennels whence they rose.
When known such power, such might of word and will,
Since Christ bade tempest sleep and waves be still?
Free, whereso'er he wends, is hope renewed,
Demons unhoused, disease and death subdued[16].
Where Sire of Waters[17] sweeps o'er silvery sands,
Prest by the pilgrim feet of many lands,
Aloft, alone, a sacred city stands.
City, mother of many[18], none more rare,
A blossoming waste shall yield, now burnt and bare; 2840
City, mother of empire, famed as fair,
Whose birth the solemn muse must yet declare.
Where groaned the land with dread malarial ill,
Healed by a hand divine, o'er vale and hill
See roof and dome and glittering fane arise!
Unworldly link[19], rewelding Earth and Skies!
Then comes Elijah's mightier mission[20] forth,
And mortal vows take on immortal worth,
Kindling anew hope's ever living fires,
Turning the mutual hearts of sons and sires, 2850
While doors to spirit dungeons open swing,
That love to light the living dead may bring!
But gaze from sinking unto soaring sun!
Beyond the wave the conquering word hath won
Past horrent hosts of Lucifer that rose,
With wrath of man, the message to oppose.
Vain strife, where fiends archangels would assail,
Warring 'gainst mightiness that must prevail—
Prevail to save a periled ship. 'Tis done;
The crisis past[21] with Albia stormed and won; 2860
East floweth West—"The Gathering" hath begun.