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From the cavern deep and dank, Bonds that burst and chains that clank, Proclaim the griesly form canine

Loosen'd from his long confine :
Garmar foams with rage and shame;
Garmar, to gods no fearless name.

Signs abroad portentous lour; 'Tis Desolation's fatal hour: Fiery shapes the aether wing; Surtur calls, they know their King. Dark encircling clouds absorb The lustre of light's central orb; Conscious stars no more dispense Their gently beaming influence; But, bursting from their shaken sphere, Unsubstantial disappear.

No more this pensile mundane ball Rolls thro' the wide aëreal hall; Ingulphed sinks the vast machine. Who shall say, the things have been !





By the Same.

The Gods (or Daemones) meet on the top of mount Inda, and sing the following prophetic Song of Triumph.

Now the Spirit's plastic might,
Brooding o'er the formless deep,

O'er the dusk abysm of night,

Bids Creation cease to sleep.

Instant from the riven main
Starts the renovated earth;
Pine-clad mountain, shaded plain;
See, 'tis Nature's second birth.

Gods on Inda spread the board;
Such was the supreme decree :
Swell the strains in full accord,
Strains of holiest harmony.

"Pour the sparkling beverage high;
"Be the song with horror fraught:
"Lab'ring earth, and ruin'd sky,
"Fix the soul in solemn thought.

"Odin next inspire the verse,
"Gor'd by the relentless fang;
"Aether felt the conflict fierce,
"Dying groan and parting pang.

"Where is now his vaunted might
"Where the terror of his eye?
"Fled for aye from scenes of light:
"Pour the sparkling beverage high.

"Lo! they fleet in radiant round,
"Years of plenty, years of joy :
"Sorrow's place no more is found,
"Cares that vex, or sweets that cloy.

"From the kindly teeming soil,

Ripen'd harvests wave unsown;

"Wherefore need the peasant's toil? "Nature works, and works alone.

"Ask you whose the scepter'd sway ?
"'Tis to lordly Balder giv❜n:
"Mark him there in bright array,
"Stalking thro' the halls of heav'n.

"Hoder holds united reign;

“ Latest times their strength shall prove; "Monarchs of the bleak domain.

"Know'st thou now what's done above?

"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;
"Round it brawls a turbid stream:

"Mortal, such th' abode of guilt.

"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.

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