II.—(Esoteric.)
Approach more near, my subtle friend, and see1
Some of the inner things which crowd this hive,2
Where millions perish, and where millions thrive.3
True ’tis a giant city, but there be4
Within its walls gigantic woes and wrongs
;5
Here a proud dome, and there a fœtid cell,6
Their tales of tyranny and crime can tell ;7
Here princely halls resound with cheerful songs8
Near festering grave-yards rank with human clay ;9
Here empty churches and vast crowded marts10
Too plainly shew the secrets of our hearts,11
And prove that Mammon holds no weakly sway.12
Spirit of Love ! descend mysteriously,13
And make our lives and homes more worthy thee
!14