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“ Is it blest delusion's hour?
“ Rolls mine eye in frenzied trance? “ Beams of glory round me show'r;
“ Troops of radiant forms advance.
“ Founded on that firm-set rock,
“ Rising view the dome of gold, “ Fix'd secure from wintry shock :
“ There the good, and there the bold.
“ High in tracts of troubled air
“ Justice waves her awful sword: « Vice appall’d, with hideous stare,
“ Shrinks ere spoke the dooming word.
“ Conscience comes, a tort'ring fiend,
“ Bids his minions round him roll; “ Fell Remorse, the breast to rend,
“ Agony, to storm the soul.
" In Nastronda's northern plain,
“ Hark, th’ envenom’d portals ope : “ Respite there is none of pain,
“ Comfort none, or cheering hope.
“ Dog-ey'd Lust, Adult'ry foul,
“ Murder red with many a stain, " At the fatal entrance scowl,
“ Bound in adamantine chain.
“ Mark the house; if right we deem,
« 'Tis of scales serpentine built;
“ Mortal, such th' abode of guilt.
6. Know'st thou now what's done above?
" Know'st thou now the deeds of night?" They spoke: the feast of joy and love
Glow'd on Inda's glist'ring height.
AT THE TOMB OF ARGANTYR.
By the Same.
HERVOR repairs to the Tomb of her Father ARGANTYR, at the dead of
Night, and invokes his Spirit to deliver up the Magical Sword TRIFIN.
Argantyr, rouse thee from thy rest; 'Tis an only child's request.
ARGANTYR. Daughter, I hear the magic sound, That wakes the tenants of the ground: Why call'st thou thus ? what dire intent Is within thy bosom pent? No friendly hand, no parent, gave My bones to rest in hallow'd grave; To me no sacred rite was paid ; Here, by bai b'rous hands convey’d, In this mansion cold, forlorn, My gloomy ghost shall ever mourn. Think not by unceasing pray’r Hence the charmed sword to bear; For know, above in realms of light, Trifingus is anothier's right.
Ha! my sire, what words accurst
ARGANTYR. With awe my words prophetic hear; Hervor, 'tis for thee I fear: The fates have seal'd thy offspring's doom ; Trifingus brings them to the tomb.