CANTO NINE

The Eaglet's nest is empty— void the lair

Of the young Lion. Where, O Ephraim, where?

Where billows break along a storied strand,

Heroic wave, a fair and favored land.

Realm of a rising glory — this thy name!

The cradle of the Kingdom — this thy fame!

There rose the morn — though flecked with fire and blood —

The morn benign of human brotherhood,

Foredestined to a passing cloud's eclipse.

Self-trammeled cause, harried by hounds and whips

Of persecution, whose infuriate maw,

Usurping oft the form and force of law,—

To lawless hands a far too ready rod,—

Had fain engulfed the growing work of God.

Widowed, bereft, a land left desolate,

A wounded bird that mourns a driven mate,

The plumage from its bleeding body torn,

And scattered wide o'er realms remote, forlorn.

On, Ephraim, on! thy pilgrim flight renew.

Land of the Sun — Shinea's land— adieu!

Yet stay! Ere storm could burst, was visioned there,

Within the portal of the House of Prayer,

A promise, a fulfillment, long foretold:

Elias and Messias there behold!

With angel keepers of the ancient keys

Of gathering and of sealing mysteries.

Haloed with fire, while burns the heavenly glow,

Upon the Prophet they their powers bestow.

Speed then swift messengers his face before,

To blaze his sacred name on every shore;

Chosen and missioned from the sending skies,

The slumbering nations to evangelize.

Resounds‘ gainst error's shield truth's ringing lance,

Unlettered light‘ gainst learned ignorance;

Priestcraft dethroned, by Priesthood downward hurled,

While ancient thunder shakes the modern world.

Already, to redeem red Laman's bands,

Have virile footprints prest those virgin lands,

Where westering empire, in creative might,

Rolls a new world upon the wondering sight;

Where flower-starred prairies, in the far extent,

Kiss with soft lips the bending firmament,

And sea-like rivers, solitary, lone,

Pour their proud waters toward the burning zone.

Land of all lands the rarest, where shall rise,—

Mirrored magnificence of earth and skies,

Each gate a pearl, each pinnacle a gem,—

The jasper walls of New Jerusalem;

The golden glory of the hemispheres,

Jehovah's throne through all the Thousand Years.

The land where Adam fell, where Enoch rose,

Where time began and history shall close.

Thereto and thence, by brand and fagot driven,

His fault to man, his fealty to heaven,

With here and there, perchance, an idle word

Vainglorious zeal or vengeful might afford,

Flies Ephraim, scorched and scourged, from Japheth's wrath,

Pushed on and on o'er steep and thorny path,

Whipt, plundered, wounded, bleeding, to the goal,

Where joy in fullness crowns the conquering soul.

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 shouldersof the Philistine,

That Israel onward bear, as breeze and brine

The tempest-driven bark that safe o'er sea

Carried calm Caesarand his destiny.

Progression fails with opposition's flight,

And darkness is but handmaid unto light.

Mistrustful of “the law of liberty,”

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 menacein that migrant fold's increase,

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,

And innocence bewails the evil time.

A second Pharaoh now o'er Israel see!

A Herodin the home of Liberty!

Where winged Nemesis shall find her own,

Gathering the whirlwindwhere 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,

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 dungeonwith the wrath of God —

A lightning tongue to scorch His cowering foes,

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.

Where Sire of Waterssweeps o'er silvery sands,

Prest by the pilgrim feet of many lands,

Aloft, alone, a sacred city stands.

City, mother of many, none more rare,

A blossoming waste shall yield, now burnt and bare;

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, rewelding Earth and Skies!

Then comes Elijah's mightier missionforth,

And mortal vows take on immortal worth,

Kindling anew hope's ever living fires,

Turning the mutual hearts of sons and sires,

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 pastwith Albia stormed and won;

East floweth West — “The Gathering” hath begun.

And now, to fruitful lands,‘ neath favoring skies,

Befriended by the just, the brave, the wise,

Till truth, too mighty for the common ken,

Hath put a sword betwixt the souls of men,

Fares garnered Ephraim, earliest offering

Of Israel's hope, Idumea's harvesting.

Nations besprent with Abrahamic blood

Meet there and mingle in that widening flood.

Impelled by helping hand or hostile power,

By friendly looks or frowns that darkly lower,

Gathers the flock of faith from every land

Where roving Ephraim mixt with Japheth's band;

Philistia's shoulder bearing Israel's flight,

That Japheth, too, may come to Zion's light,

And Joseph be o'er all his brethren blest,

A saviour in his Egypt of the West,

Where corn and wine,‘ mid famine, comfort life,

Where peace and plenty shame a world at strife,

And, bending from the ice-barred North, shall come —

As bent their stars in his, the dreamer's dome —

Assyria's long lost captives, wending home.

Westward, far westward, chase the lingering night,

Impelling Spirit! Angel of the Light!

Westward, still westward, till the morn shall burn

In high meridian glory; till shall turn

Fate's restless tide, re-rolling o'er the East,

Spoiling the spoiler, spreading freedom's feast,

Foiling dark anarchy, thy fellest foe,

Land, chosen land! stunned, staggering‘ neath its blow;

Rallying the loyalin a common cause,

Rending the eagle from the bear's red claws;

Hurling invasion backward o'er the Isles,

Building anew upon the olden piles,

Beginnings of the crowning commonhood —

A modern Zion where the ancient stood.

Backward, roll backward, river of the blood!

Back to thy fountain, hurrying human flood —

To Adam's land, the far Edenic shore;

For last is first and old is new once more,

And nations rise where nations fell before!

Joseph, uprisen from the grave-like mound,

His ancient and inglorious battle ground,

Retreads with modern step the painful path

Where erst he fled, a fugitive from wrath;

Fated to flee till ebbs that westward flow,

Bearing from Japheth bitter curse and blow,

While patient heaven holds off the woeful fate

That cometh swift and layeth desolate

The powers that prey on Jacob — all that hate

The God of Joseph, and the just decree

That builds him here a boundless destiny.

Beginnings that have here in beauty stood,

Prone, as from withering fire or wasting flood,

A little season wrecked and ruined lie,

Till they that build put pride and passion by,

And, taught by pain, through suffering's fiercest fires,

Part with all lustful, covetous desires.

When faith shall wear the armor without flaw,

And union such as sainted Enoch saw

Honors the fullness of celestial law,

Then — sword of God and blade of Gideon,

Dazzling, confounding, driving on and on,

Till besomed as with fire the fated land,

Where Zion, guileless, glorious, shall stand,

A terror only to her trembling foes,

Ensign of peace and Eden of repose,

Where life's tree blossoms and light's fountain flows.

Meanwhile her valiant ones, her tried and true

Daughters and sons, shall they not dare and do?

In vain, alas! in vain of such to sing,

With trembling hand a tuneless harp I string.

For who can count the cost, the painful price,

Measure the sorrow and the sacrifice,

Rare spirits of a more than Spartan race

Compelled their souls of halting dread to face?

Harp of the Hebrew seer! Be thine to break

The muse's slumber, bid the world awake,

And glow o'er deeds yet done for conscience’ sake.

What tongue than Zion's own can loose the spell?

Whose voice than modern Leah's, Rachel's, tell

The story of a burden borne so well?

Bending, not breaking,‘ neath thy load of care,

Sowing to joy, thou shalt not reap despair!

Planting the hope of human purity,

That righteousness may crown futurity,—

Patience! endure! for pain shall bring thee power.

Time but a dream — eternity thy dower.

Where perfect love casts forth the jealous fear,

A diamond in thy diadem each tear;

And every sigh that rent thy suffering breast,

A wave of rapture on the shores of rest.

My lot as thine, purest of pure-in-heart!

Be mine the bitter as the better part.

But sorrows else have shadowed all things there;

The voice of mourning drowns the voice of prayer.

Dampened e'en now with death's prophetic dew,

Thy cold, pale brow, O fated, fair Nauvoo!

Remains for thee no peace, for thine no rest,

Till on the parching plain, the frozen crest;

A desert land of unlocked mystery,

Frowning on hope, and dumb to history.

Yet ere the burning wilderness be won,

Shines down on other deeds the shuddering sun.

City of Joseph! Look! from‘ leaguered walls,

Where Calvary's crimson light on Carthage falls!

Ere murderous fate the martyr's bolt hath sped,

While deepening darkness glooms a sky of lead,

And thundrous threatenings tone their notes of dread,

Looms to the fore an archangelic form,

A sunlit summit shining o'er the storm;

A towering rock above the rushing tide

Of eager souls that surge on every side,

Where living waters from the fountain play,

And glowing words light up the darkened way.

Undaunted‘ neath the shadow of his doom,

Calm as a statue, solemn as a tomb,

Heedless of self, while hoarsely rumbles near

Hate's fiery flood, that alien to all fear,

That more than man, nor less than godlike soul,

Erect upon life's summit, at death's goal,

Unlocks time's portal, swings the future's gate,

And opes to Ephraim's gaze his glorious fate.

O diver in the days and years to be!

Searching the caves of that prophetic sea,

What bringest from the deeps of destiny?