The Kingdom of Love

I dreamt a wondrous dream,I know not if in sleeping or awaking;But that I dreamt I know, since no mistakingOf things that are for things that only seemCould fill the soul with such a burning glow,Or make my hand write tremblingly—as now.I lingered on a long and lonesome way;But no! it was not lingering, for I spedHurriedly forward, tho' I seemed to stay—'Twas wearying—from the dullness and delay,And the monotony around me spread.And those who passed or dwelt there seemed imbuedWith the inaction of the solitude;Passionless—satisfied—O how I stroveTo leave that land behind me—to escapeFrom that oppressive power whose every shapeWas clad in doubt and gloom, but none in love.At last I reached the boundary of the sands,And there a diamantine portal stands,With rainbow letters fringed with gold above—"Kingdom of Love!"There was a "Welcome!" waiting on the watch;Raptured, I seized the latch—Opened the door, and boldly rushed within—And saw—O heavenly vision! all around—A more enchanting, more enrapturing sceneThan poet or than painter ever foundWhen they in earth have pictured heavenly gods,And a blest Paradise for their abodes.A wide and fertile vale, a fancy's dream,With myriad flowers, and rose trees towering high,As oaks towards the sky:And by soft song accompanied, a streamGliding, but lingering, oft turned back to kissThe banks it left, as if some thought of bliss—Some memory sweet were there—and everywhereEnchantments all-mysterious filled the air;Odours and many coloured beams of light,Columns of crystal, gems reflecting bright,The grand romantic statues girding roundThat amphitheatre, and every heightWith clouds of pure translucent gold was crowned.Entranced, I looked around me—and forgotTo close the open door—wildered I stood,Gazing upon that clear melodious flood,Whose magic magnet influence I could notResist, and nearer to its banks I drew—An emerald field, flower decked, I wandered thro';I saw young groups bending their heads towardSomething attractive in the tangled sward,And picked up what to my eyes seemed eitherA needle or a feather."What seek ye here?" I asked. "A poisonous weed!"One answered, and again inclined his head;"And when discovered, tell me for what use?""To press the foliage, and to sip its juice."I hastened back; the disenchantment gaveStrong impulse to my footsteps—tired I foundA resting place on the rose-covered ground;Beneath a tree I sat—to weariness a slave—To disappointment—to disgust—strange fear—A wild perplexity had mastered meWhen I look'd upward, and saw hanging there,A youth upon the tree.Startled, I looked around—one, two, three, four—And each its own suspended victim bore,Swinging aloft;—towards the stream I fled,Driven thitherward by dread,And sought wherewith to ford it. Then I cried,"Love's holy kingdom's on the farther side,"And sprang into a boat; I seized the rudder,And midst the rushes floating—with a shudderSaw many corpses—youths and maidens—-seemLike frightened ghosts that leaped into the stream.I reached the distant bank—pale, trembling, weary,And images of terror dark and dreary—And poison-cups—and sorcery-cauldrons rose—There was no resting place and no repose.There spouted from the mountain-tops a floodOf brains and blood;And on that blooming borderWere death and discord, darkness and disorder.I ran about in wild despair,I ran about, lost and bewildered there;One black, black canopy o'ershadowed all—Self-murder—hopeless misery—fall on fall!But the meadows laughed out serene,And beautiful flowers shone thro' the green;The musical stream, and the azure sky,They laughed out with a sparkling joy:Blossoming here, and blossoming there—Peace and blessedness everywhere!