The Sleeping Bard; Or, Visions of the World, Death, and HellWynne, Ellis
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The Sleeping Bard; Or, Visions of the World, Death, and Hell
Wynne, Ellis
Allegories; Christian life; Religious literature, Welsh; Welsh literature -- 18th century; Welsh literature -- Translations into English
By this time, I beheld the legions of Death, formed in order and armed,
with their eyes fixed upon the king, awaiting the word. "There," said
the king, standing erect upon his regal throne, "my terrible and
invincible hosts, spare neither care nor diligence in removing these
prisoners from out of my boundaries, lest they prove the ruin of my
country; cast them bound, over the precipice of Despair, with their heads
downward. But for the seventh, this Courts Comprised, who threatens me,
leave him free over the chasm, beneath the court of _Justice_, and let
him try whether he can make his complaint good against me." Then Death
reseated himself. And lo! all the deadly legions, after surrounding the
prisoners and binding them, led them away to their couch. I also went
out, and peeped after them. "Come away," said Sleep, and snatched me up
to the top of the highest turret of the palace. Thence I could see the
prisoners proceeding to their eternal perdition. Presently a whirlwind
arose, and dispersed the pitch-black cloud, which was spread universally
over the face of the land of Oblivion, and by the light of a thousand
candles, which were burning with a blue flame, at a particular place, I
obtained a far distant view of the verge of the _Bottomless Gulf_, a
sight exceedingly horrible; and also of a spectacle above, still more
appalling, namely _Justice_ upon his _supreme seat_, holding the keys of
Hell, at a separate and distinct tribunal over the chasm, to pronounce
judgment upon the damned as they came. I could see the prisoners cast
headlong down the gulf, and Pettifogger rushing to fling himself over the
terrific brink, rather than look once on the court of _Justice_. For oh!
there was there a spectacle too severe for a guilty countenance. I
merely gazed from _afar_, but I beheld more terrific horror, than I can
at present relate, or I could at that time support, for my spirit
struggled and fluttered at the awful sight, and wrestled so strenuously,
that it burst all the bands of Sleep, and my soul returned to its
accustomed functions. And exceedingly overjoyed I was to see myself
still amongst the living. I instantly determined upon reforming myself,
as a hundred years of affliction in the paths of righteousness, would be
less harrowing to me, than another glance on the horrors of this night.
Death the Great.
Leave land and house we must some day,
For human sway not long doth bide;
Leave pleasures and festivities,
And pedigrees, our boast and pride.
Leave strength and loveliness of mien,
Wit sharp and keen, experience dear;
Leave learning deep, and much lov'd friends,
And all that tends our life to cheer.
From Death then is there no relief?
That ruthless thief and murderer fell,
Who to his shambles beareth down
All, all we own, and us as well.
Ye monied men, ye who would fain
Your wealth retain eternally,
How brave 'twould be a sum to raise,
And the good grace of Death to buy!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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