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IV.

I stood beside her, but she saw me not-
She looked upon the sea, and skies, and earth ;
Rapture, and love, and admiration wrought
A passion deeper far than tears, or mirth,
Or speech, or gesture, or whate'er has birth
From common joy; which with the speech-
less feeling

That led her there united, and shot forth From her far eyes a light of deep revealing, All but her dearest self from my regard concealing.

V.

Her lips were parted, and the measured breath Was now heard there ;-her dark and intrie;

cate eyes

Orb within orb, deeper than sleep or deata, Absorbed the glories of the burning skies, Which, mingling with her heart's deep ecstasies,

Burst from her looks and gestures;—and a light

Of liquid tenderness like love did rise

From her whole frame, an atmosphere which quite

Arrayed her in its beams, tremulous and soft and bright.

VI.

She would have clasped me to her glowing frame;

Those warm and odorous lips might soon have shed

On mine the fragrance and the invisible

flame

Which now the cold winds stole ;—she would have laid

Upon my languid heart her dearest head; I might have heard her voice, tender and sweet;

Her eyes, mingling with mine, might soon have fed

My soul with their own joy.-One moment yet

I gazed-we parted then, never again to meet!

VII.

Never but once to meet on Earth again!
She heard me as I fled-her eager tone
Sunk on my heart, and almost wove a chain
Around my will to link it with her own,
So that my stern resolve was almost gone.
"I cannot reach thee! whither dost thou fly?
My steps are faint-Come back, thou
dearest one—

Return, ah me! return "-the wind passed by

On which those accents died, faint, far, and lingeringly.

VIII.

Woe! woe! that moonless midnight-Want and Pest

Were horrible, but one more fell doth rear, As in a hydra's swarming lair, its crest Eminent among those victims-even the Fear Of Hell: each girt by the hot atmosphere Of his blind agony, like a scorpion stung By his own rage upon his burning bier Of circling coals of fire; but still there clung One hope, like a keen sword on starting threads uphung:

IX.

Not death-death was no more refuge or rest;
Not life-it was despair to be!—not sleep,
For fiends and chasms of fire had dispossessed
All natural dreams: to wake was not to weep,
But to gaze mad and pallid, at the leap
To which the Future, like a snaky scourge,
Or like some tyrant's eye, which aye doth
keep

Its withering beam upon his slaves, did urge Their steps; they heard the roar of Hell's sulphureous surge.

X.

Each of that multitude alone, and lost To sense of outward things, one hope yet knew ;

As on a foam-girt crag some seaman tossed Stares at the rising tide, or like the crew Whilst now the ship is splitting through and through;

Each, if the tramp of a far steed was heard, Started from sick despair, or if there flew One murmur on the wind, or if some word Which none can gather yet, the distant crowd has stirred.

XI.

Why became cheeks wan with the kiss of death

Paler from hope? they had sustained despair. Why watched those myriads with suspended breath

Sleepless a second night? they are not here The victims, and hour by hour, a vision drear,

Warm corpses fall upon the clay-cold dead;

And even in death their lips are wreathed with fear.

The crowd is mute and moveless-overhead Silent Arcturus shines-ha! hear'st thou not the tread

XII.

Of rushing feet? laughter? the shout, the

scream,

Of triumph not to be contained? see! hark! They come, they come, give way! alas, ye deem

Falsely 'tis but a crowd of maniacs stark Driven, like a troop of spectres, through the dark,

From the choked well, whence a bright deathfire sprung,

A lurid earth-star, which dropped many a spark

From its blue train, and, spreading widely,

clung

To their wild hair, like mist the topmost pines

among.

And many

XIII.

from the crowd collected there Joined that strange dance in fearful sympathies;

There was the silence of a long despair, When the last echo of those terrible cries Came from a distant street, like agonies Stifled afar. Before the Tyrant's throne All night his agèd Senate sate, their eyes In stony expectation fixed; when one Sudden before them stood, a Stranger and alone.

XIV.

Dark Priests and haughty Warriors gazed on him

With baffled wonder, for a hermit's vest Concealed his face; but when he spake, his tone,

;

Ere yet the matter did their thoughts arrest, Earnest, benignant, calm, as from a breast Void of all hate or terror, made them start For as with gentle accents he addressed His speech to them, on each unwilling heart Unusual awe did fall-a spirit-quelling dart.

XV.

"Ye Princes of the Earth, ye sit aghast Amid the ruin which yourselves have made; Yes, Desolation heard your trumpet's blast, And sprang from sleep!-dark Terror has obeyed

Your bidding-O, that I whom ye have made Your foe, could set my dearest enemy free From pain and fear! but evil casts a shade, Which cannot pass so soon, and Hate must be The nurse and parent still of an ill progeny.

XVI.

;

"Ye turn to God for aid in your distress Alas, that ye, the mighty and the wise, Who, if ye dared, might not aspire to less Than ye conceive of power, should fear the lies

Which thou, and thou, didst frame for mysteries

To blind your slaves:-consider your own thought,

An empty and a cruel sacrifice

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