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Home  »  The World’s Best Poetry  »  The Comet

Bliss Carman, et al., eds. The World’s Best Poetry. 1904.

Poems of Fancy: III. Mythical: Mystical: Legendary

The Comet

Charles Sangster (1822–1893)

October, 1858

ERRATIC Soul of some great Purpose, doomed

To track the wild illimitable space,

Till sure propitiation has been made

For the divine commission unperformed!

What was thy crime? Ahasuerus’ curse

Were not more stern on earth than thine in heaven!

Art thou the Spirit of some Angel World,

For grave rebellion banished from thy peers,

Compelled to watch the calm, immortal stars

Circling in rapture the celestial void,

While the avenger follows in thy train

To spur thee on to wretchedness eterne?

Or one of Nature’s wildest fantasies,

From which she flies in terror so profound,

And with such whirl of torment in her breast,

That mighty earthquakes yawn where’er she treads

While War makes red its terrible right hand,

And Famine stalks abroad all lean and wan?

To us thou art as exquisitely fair

As the ideal visions of the seer,

Or gentlest fancy that e’er floated down

Imagination’s bright, unruffled stream,

Wedding the thought that was too deep for words

To the low breathings of inspirèd song.

When the stars sang together o’er the birth

Of the poor Babe at Bethlehem, that lay

In the coarse manger at the crowded Inn,

Didst thou, perhaps a bright exalted star,

Refuse to swell the grand, harmonious lay,

Jealous as Herod of the birth divine?

Or when the crown of thorns on Calvary

Pierced the Redeemer’s brow, didst thou disdain

To weep, when all the planetary worlds

Were blinded by the fulness of their tears?

E’en to the flaming sun, that hid his face

At the loud cry, “Lama Sabachthani!”

No rest! No rest! the very damned have that

In the dark councils of remotest Hell,

Where the dread scheme was perfected that sealed

Thy disobedience and accruing doom.

Like Adam’s sons, hast thou, too, forfeited

The blest repose that never pillowed Sin?

No! none can tell thy fate, thou wandering Sphinx!

Pale Science, searching by the midnight lamp

Through the vexed mazes of the human brain,

Still fails to read the secret of its soul

As the superb enigma flashes by,

A loosed Prometheus burning with disdain.