Into his lake, for there he did not drown;

A different web being by the Destinies
Woven for the Laureate's final wreath, whene'er
Reform shall happen either here or there.

ἐν.

He first sank to the bottom-like his works,
But soon rose to the surface-like himself;
For all corrupted things are buoy'd like corks,
By their own rottenness, light as an elf,
Or wisp that flits o'er a morass; he lurks,

It may be, still, like dull books on a shelf,
In his own den, to scrawl some "Life" or "Vision,"
As Welborn says "the devil turn'd precisian."

CVI.

As for the rest, to come to the conclusion
Of this true dream, the telescope is gone
Which kept my optics free from all delusion,
And show'd me what I in my turn have shown;

All I saw further, in the last confusion,

Was, that King George slipp'd into heaven for one; And when the tumult dwindled to a calm,

I left him practising the hundredth psalm.

• A drowned body lies at the bottom till rotten; it then floats, as most people kru.

HEAVEN AND EARTH:

A Mystery,

FOUNDED ON THE FOLLOWING PASSAGE IN GENESIS,

CHAP. VI.

"And it came to pass.... that the sons of God saw the daughters of men that they were fair; and they took them wives of all which they chose."

"And woman wailing for her demcn lover."-Coleridge.

18

Dramatis Personæ.

ANGELS.

SAMIASA, AZAZIEL, RAPHAEL, the Archangel.
MEN.

NOAH and his SONS-IRAD and JAPHET.

Chorus of Spirits of the Earth-Chorus of Mortals.

PART I.-SCENE I.

A woody and mountainous district near Mount Ararat.
Time, Midnight.

Enter ANAH and AHOLIBAMAH.

Anah. Our father sleeps: it is the hour when they Who love us are accustom'd to descend

Through the deep clouds o'er rocky Ararat :

How my heart beats!

Aho.

Our invocation.

Anah.

I tremble.

Aho.

Let us proceed upon

But the stars are hidden.

So do I, but not with fear

My sister, though

Of aught save their delay.
Anah.

I love Azaziel more than-oh, too much!

What was I going to say? my heart grows impious.
Aho. And where is the impiety of loving

But, Aholibamah,
His angel loved me:
and though I know not

That I do wrong, I feel a thousand fears
Which are not ominous of right.

Ako.

Then wed thee

Unto some son of clay, and toil and spin!

There's Japhet loves thee well, hath loved thee long ;
Marry, and bring forth dust!

Anah.

I should have loved

Azaziel not less were he mortal; yet

I am glad he is not. I can not outlive him.
And when I think that his immortal wings
Will one day hover o'er the sepulchre

Of the poor child of clay which so adored him,
As he adores the Highest, death becomes
Less terrible: but yet I pity him;

His grief will be of ages, or at least

Mine would be such for him, were I the Seraph,
And he the perishable.

Rather say,

Aho.
That he will single forth some other daughter
Of Earth, and love her as he once loved Anah.
Anah. And if it should be so, and she loved him,
Better thus than that he should weep for me.

Aho. If I thought thus of Samiasa's love,
All Seraph as he is, I'd spurn him from me.-
But to our invocation! "Tis the hour.

Anah.

Seraph!

From thy sphere!

Whatever star contain thy glory;
In the eternal depths of heaven

Albeit thou watchest with "the seven,"
Though through space infinite and hoary
Before thy bright wings worlds be driven,
Yet hear!

Oh! think of her who holds thee dear!
And though she nothing is to thee,

Yet think that thou art all to her.
Thou canst not tell-and never be
Such pangs decreed to aught save me-
The bitterness of tears.

Eternity is in thine years,

Unborn, undying beauty in thine eyes;
With me thou canst not sympathize,
Except in love, and there thou must
Acknowledge that more loving dust
Ne'er wept beneath the skies.
Thou walk'st thy many worlds, thou see'st
The face of Him who made thee great,

As He hath made me of the least

Of those cast out from Eden's gate:

Yet, Seraph dear!

Oh hear !

The archangels, aid to be seven in number, and to occupy the eight rank lot elestial hierarchy.

For thou hast loved me, and I would not die
Until I know, what I must die in knowing,
That thou forgett'st in thine eternity

Her whose heart death could not keep from o'erflowing
For thee, immortal essence as thou art!
Great is their love who love in sin and fear;

And such, I feel, are waging in my heart
A war unworthy: to an Adamite

Forgivo, my Seraph! that such thoughts appear,
For sorrow is our element;
Delight

Aho.

An Eden kept afar from sight,

Though sometimes with our visions blent.
The hour is near

Which tells me we are not abandon'd quite -
Appear! appear!
Seraph!

My own Azaziel! be but here,
And leave the stars to their own light.

Samiasa!
Wheresoe'er

Thou rulest in the upper air

Or warring with the spirits who may dare
Dispute with Him

Who made all empires, empire; or recalling Some wandering star, which shoots through the abyss, Whose tenants dying, while their world is falling, Share the dim destiny of clay in this;

Or joining with the inferior cherubim,
Thou deignest to partake their hymn-
Samiasa!

I call thee, I await thee, and I love thee.
Many may worship thee, that will I not:
If that thy spirit down to mine may move thee,
Descend and share my lot!

Though I be form'd of clay,
And thou of beams

More bright than those of day
On Eden's streams,

Thine immortality can not repay
With love more warm than mine,

My love. There is a ray

In me, which, though forbidden yet to shine,
I feel was lighted at thy God's and thine.
It may be hidden long: death and decay
Our mother Eve bequeath'd us-but my heart
Defies it though this life must pass away,
Is that a cause for thee and me to part?
Thou art immortal-so am I: I feel-

I feel my immortality o'ersweep

All pains, all tears, all time, all fears, and peal,
Like the eternal thunders of the deep,

Into my ears this truth-"Thou liv'st for eve
But if it be in joy

I know not, nor would know;

That secret rests with the Almighty Giver,
Who folds in clouds the fonts of bliss and woe.
But thee and me He never can destroy:
Change us He may, but not o'erwhelm; we are
Of as eternal essence, and must war

With Him if He will war with us: with thee

I can share all things, even immortal sorrow;
For thou hast ventured to share life with me,
And shall I shrink from thine eternity?

No! though the serpent's sting should pierce me thorough,
And thou thyself wert like the serpent, coil
Around me still! and I will smile,

And curse thee not; but hold

Thee in as warm a fold

As

-But descend, and prove

A mortal's love

For an immortal. If the skies contain

More joy than thou canst give and take, remain !
Anah. Sister! sister! I view them winging
Their bright way through the parted night.
Aho. The clouds from off their pinions flinging,
As though they bore to-morrow's light.
Anah. But if our father see the sight!
Aho. He would but deem it was the moon
Rising unto some sorcerer's tune

An hour too soon.

Anah. They come! he comes !—Azaziel !
Aho.

To meet them! Oh, for wings to bear
My spirit, while they hover there,

To Samiasa's breast!

Anah. Lo! they have kindled all the west, Like a returning sunset ;-lo!

On Ararat's late secret crest

A mild and many-colour'd bow,

The remnant of their flashing path,

Now shines! and now, behold! it hath

Return'd to night, as rippling foam,

Which the leviathan hath lash'd

From his unfathomable home,

When sporting on the face of the calm deep,
Subsides soon after he again hath dash'd

Haste

Down, down, to where the ocean's fountains sleep.
Aho. They have touch'd earth -Samiasa!
Anah.

My Azaziel!