Elias: An Epic of the Ages
1900
Orson F. Whitney's Elias is one of the most ambitious undertakings in American religious literature: a sprawling epic poem that traces the entire arc of existence from the pre-mortal realm through creation, biblical history, the Restoration, and on to the apocalypse. Written by a man who would become an apostle of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, this verse narrative attempts what no other Mormon writer had attempted before: to render the vast cosmology of LDS theology in the grand tradition of classical epic poetry. The narrator begins as a young poet hungry for fame and glory, then undergoes a spiritual awakening that reframes all human ambition in light of divine purpose. Through various characters and divine messengers, Whitney explores what it means to truly progress through the ages and what ultimate greatness really looks like when measured against eternity. The result is both a theological treatise and a deeply personal meditation on beauty, love, and the soul's long journey home. For readers interested in the intersection of American poetry and religious imagination, or in understanding how one faith tradition attempted to claim the epic form for its own, Elias remains a remarkable and largely unexplored artifact of early Mormon intellectual life.
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“They sighed: "This leadeth to captivity--Perchance destruction, ending dark and dire.Yet must we yield to human libertyIts own, e'en though a brand from freedom's fireKindle for freedom's self the fatal pyre."So saying, they anointed one their kingWho craved the crown, by patriot son and sirePut by in pure denial, lest it bringFirst care, then crime, and waken woes then slumbering.For though a king see duty's pathway plain,And walk therein, as he who now arose;What monarch from misrule can all refrain,When privilege lifts power o'er friends and foes?Rare is the reign untarnished to the close,And rarer still the blameless dynasty.Ofttimes as princes the unkingliest pose,Because, forsooth, they come of some tall tree,Whose root and trunk were sound, while branches blasted be.True kingliness--what else proves man a king?A slave, though throned and sceptered, bides a slave;Nor pride, nor pelf, nor all that power may bring,Can make the serf a sovereign, or yet saveThe dust of either from the common grave.Royal the soul must be, or comes to endAll royalty. Spirit, then blood, God gave;And each at last its separate way doth wendHome to the parent source, to meet no more, nor blend.””
— Orson F. Whitney
“I slept and dreamed no more; I was awake!And saw and heard with other eyes and ears,Which taught me things unseen, unheard before;Things new and old--old as eternity--Old e'en to time, though new and strange to me.””
— Orson F. Whitney
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