FullReads

Too true he spake, for of the countless threads,
Drawn from the heap, as white as unsunn’d snow,
Or as the lovely lilly of the vale,
Was never one beyond the little span
Of infancy untainted: few there were
But lightly tinged; more of deep crimson hue,
Or deeper sable [4] died. Two Genii stood,
Still as the web of Being was drawn forth,
Sprinkling their powerful drops. From ebon urn,
The one unsparing dash’d the bitter wave
Of woe; and as he dash’d, his dark-brown brow
Relax’d to a hard smile. The milder form
Shed less profusely there his lesser store;
Sometimes with tears increasing the scant boon,
Mourning the lot of man; and happy he
Who on his thread those precious drops receives;
If it be happiness to have the pulse
Throb fast with pity, and in such a world
Of wretchedness, the generous heart that aches
With anguish at the sight of human woe.

To her the Fiend, well hoping now success,
“This is thy thread! observe how short the span,
And see how copious yonder Genius pours
The bitter stream of woe.” The Maiden saw
Fearless. “Now gaze!” the tempter Fiend exclaim’d,
And placed again the poniard in her hand,
For SUPERSTITION, with sulphureal torch
Stalk’d to the loom. “This, Damsel, is thy fate!
The hour draws on–now drench the dagger deep!
Now rush to happier worlds!”
The Maid replied,
“Or to prevent or change the will of Heaven,
Impious I strive not: be that will perform’d!”

[Footnote 1:

May fays of Serapis,
Erudit at placide humanam per somnia mentem,
Nocturnaque quiete docet; nulloque labore
Hic tantum parta est pretiosa scientia, nullo
Excutitur studio verum. Mortalia corda
Tunc Deus iste docet, cum sunt minus apta doceri,
Cum nullum obsequium praestant, meritisque fatentur
Nil sese debere suis; tunc recta scientes
Cum nil scire valent. Non illo tempore sensus
Humanos forsan dignatur numen inire,
Cum propriis possunt per se discursibus uti,
Ne forte humana ratio divina coiret.

‘Sup Lucani’.]

[Footnote 2: I have met with a singular tale to illustrate this spiritual theory of dreams.

Guntram, King of the Franks, was liberal to the poor, and he himself experienced the wonderful effects of divine liberality. For one day as he was hunting in a forest he was separated from his companions and arrived at a little stream of water with only one comrade of tried and approved fidelity. Here he found himself opprest by drowsiness, and reclining his head upon the servant’s lap went to sleep. The servant witnessed a wonderful thing, for he saw a little beast (‘bestiolam’) creep out of the mouth of his sleeping master, and go immediately to the streamlet, which it vainly attempted to cross. The servant drew his sword and laid it across the water, over which the little beast easily past and crept into a hole of a mountain on the opposite side; from whence it made its appearance again in an hour, and returned by the same means into the King’s mouth. The King then awakened, and told his companion that he had dreamt that he was arrived upon the bank of an immense river, which he had crossed by a bridge of iron, and from thence came to a mountain in which a great quantity of gold was concealed. When the King had concluded, the servant related what he had beheld, and they both went to examine the mountain, where upon digging they discovered an immense weight of gold.

I stumbled upon this tale in a book entitled SPHINX ‘Theologico-Philosophica. Authore Johanne Heidfeldio, Ecclesiaste Ebersbachiano.’ 1621.

The same story is in Matthew of Westminster; it is added that Guntram applied the treasures thus found to pious uses.