New Poems

-day, the gold and silver sheen Her slaves pursue, for tears, to-morrow. A bitter vine embowers her throne, Full-clustered with the fruit of evil ; And man to man, for her, hath shown, At heart, the vulture ? serpent ? weevil. For her, the traitor Jew of old Betrayed his Friend to foes who sought him ; And many a Judas since hath sold, And pierced afresh, " the Lord that bought him." In vain before her Mercy pleads; And tender Pity, weeping, flies her ; When Truth is stabbed, when Justice bleeds, We find her priest the sacrificer. By day, she robs the mind of ease ; By night, with thorns she plants the pillow; She casts our peace to stormy seas, ? To whiffling wind, and breaking billow. She gives her dupe a dazzled eye, ? The voice of conscience in him stifles; Then, of the Pearl he 'd place on high, And peace below, his bosom rifles. The mind, beneath her iron rod And earthy load, deformed and shrinking, Bows down before a mine-sprung god, Whose form was ore, ? whose voice is chinking ! The spirit, born the higher things Of life and light to seek and cherish, For her will even sell its wings, And crawl in caverns here, and perish. She sometimes lays a silken snare, With aspect bland, and accents wooing, On fields of prospect wide and fair, With buds of hope, but fruits of ruing ! She then takes up a Siren song ; And those who lend an ear, and follow Her dulcet notes, are lured alo...