'Neath that bending arch, with a tottering march
All peoples went wailing by,
To the music of groan, of sob, and of moan,
To the grave that was yawning nigh,
When the blacksmith rose and redoubled his blows
On the iron that was aglow,
Till his senses did seem to dissolve in a dream,
Just fifty years ago.
He thought that he stood upon a mountain chain,
And gazed across an almost boundless plain;
Men of all nations, and of every clime,
Of ancient epochs, and of modern time,
Rose in thick ranks before his wandering eye,
And passed, like waves, in quick succession by.
First came Osiris, with his Memphian band
Of swarth Egyptians, darkening all the land;
With heads downcast they dragged their limbs along,
Laden with chains, and torn by lash and thong.
From morn till eve they toiled and bled and died,
And stained with blood the Nile's encroaching tide.
Slowly upon the Theban plain there rose
Old Cheop's pride, a pyramid of woes;
And millions sank unpitied in their graves,
With tombs inscribed—"Here lies a realm of slaves."
Next came great Nimrod prancing on his steed,
His serried ranks, Assyrian and Mede,
By bold Sennacherib moulded into one,
By bestial Sardanapalus undone.
He saw the walls of Babylon arise,
Spring from the earth, invade the azure skies,
And bear upon their airy ramparts old
Gardens and vines, and fruit, and flowers of gold.
Beneath their cold and insalubrious shade
All woes and vices had their coverts made;
Lascivious incest o'er the land was sown,
From peasant cabin to imperial throne,
And that proud realm, so full of might and fame,
Went down at last in blood, and sin, and shame.
Then came the Persian, with his vast array
Of armed millions, fretting for the fray,
Led on by Xerxes and his harlot horde,
Where billows swallowed, and where battle roared.
On every side there rose a bloody screen,
Till mighty Alexander closed the scene.
Behold that warrior! in his pomp and pride,
Dash through the world, and over myriads ride;
Plant his proud pennon on the Gangean stream,
Pierce where the tigers hide, mount where the eagles scream,
And happy only amid war's alarms,
The clank of fetters, and the clash of arms;
And moulding man by battle-fields and blows,
To one foul mass of furies, fiends and foes.
Such, too, the Roman, vanquishing mankind,
Their fields to ravage, and their limbs to bind;
Whose proudest trophy, and whose highest good,
To write his fame with pencil dipped in blood;
To stride the world, like Ocean's turbid waves,
And sink all nations into servient slaves.
As passed the old, so modern realms swept by,
Woe in all hearts, and tears in every eye;
Crimes stained the noble, famine crushed the poor;
Poison for kings, oppression for the boor;
Force by the mighty, fraud by the feebler shown;
Mercy a myth, and charity unknown.
The Dreamer sighed, for sorrow filled his breast;
Turned from the scene and sank to deeper rest.
"Come!" cried a low voice full of music sweet,
"Come!" and an angel touched his trembling feet.
Down the steep hills they wend their toilsome way,
Cross the vast plain that on their journey lay;
Gain the dark city, through its suburbs roam,
And pause at length within the dreamer's home.
Again he stood at his anvil good
With an angel by his side,
And rested his sledge on its iron edge
And blew up his bellows wide;
He kindled the flame till the white heat came,
Then murmured in accent low:
"All ready am I your bidding to try
So far as a mortal may go."
'Midst the heat and the smoke the angel spoke,
And breathed in his softest tone,
"Heaven caught up your prayer on the evening air
As it mounted toward the throne.
God weaveth no task for mortals to ask
Beyond a mortal's control,
And with hammer and tongs you shall right the wrongs
That encompass the human soul.
"But go you first forth 'mong the sons of the earth,
And bring me a human heart
That throbs for its kind, spite of weather and wind,
And acts still a brother's part.
The night groweth late, but here will I wait
Till dawn streak the eastern skies;
And lest you should fail, spread my wings on the gale,
And search with my angel eyes."