By a power to thee unknown,
Thou canst never be alone;

Thou art wrapt as with a shroud,
Thou art gather'd in a cloud;

And for ever shalt thou dwell
In the spirit of this spell.

Though thou seest me not pass by, Thou shalt feel me with thine eye As a thing that, though unseen, Must be near thee, and hath been; And when in that secret dread Thou hast turn'd around thy head, Thou shalt marvel I am not

As thy shadow on the spot,

And the power which thou dost feel Shall be what thou must conceal.

And a magic voice and verse

Hath baptized thee with a curse;

And a spirit of the air

Hath begirt thee with a snare;
In the wind there is a voice

Shall forbid thee to rejoice;

And to thee shall Night deny
All the quiet of her sky;

And the day shall have a sun,

Which shall make thee wish it done.

From thy false tears I did distil

An essence which hath strength to kill; From thy own heart I then did wring The black blood in its blackest spring; From thy own smile I snatch'd the snake, For there it coil'd as in a brake;

From thy own lip I drew the charm Which gave all these their chiefest harm; In proving every poison known,

I found the strongest was thine own.

By thy cold breast and serpent smile,
By thy unfathom'd gulfs of guile,

By that most seeming virtuous eye,
By thy shut soul's hypocrisy ;

By the perfection of thine art

Which pass'd for human thine own heart;

By thy delight in others' pain,

And by thy brotherhood of Cain,

I call upon thee! and compel

Thyself to be thy proper Hell!

And on thy head I pour the vial
Which doth devote thee to this trial;

Nor to slumber, nor to die,

Shall be in thy destiny;

Though thy death shall still seem near
To thy wish, but as a fear;

Lo! the spell now works around thee,

And the clankless chain hath bound thee;

O'er thy heart and brain together

Hath the word been pass'd-now wither!

SCENE II.

The Mountain of the Jungfrau.-Time, Morning.— MANFRED alone upon the Cliffs.

MAN. The spirits I have raised abandon me—

The spells which I have studied baffle me—

The remedy I reck'd of tortured me;

I lean no more on super-human aid,

It hath no power upon the past, and for

The future, till the past be gulf'd in darkness,

It is not of my search.-My mother Earth!

And thou fresh breaking Day, and you, ye Mountains,
Why are ye beautiful? I cannot love ye.

And thou, the bright eye of the universe,
That openest over all, and unto all
Art a delight—thou shin'st not on my heart.
And you, ye crags, upon whose extreme edge
I stand, and on the torrent's brink beneath
Behold the tall pines dwindled as to shrubs
In dizziness of distance; when a leap,

A stir, a motion, even a breath, would bring
My breast upon its rocky bosom's bed
To rest for ever-wherefore do I pause?
I feel the impulse-yet I do not plunge;
I see the peril—yet do not recede;

And

my brain reels-and yet my foot is firm : There is a power upon me which withholds

And makes it my fatality to live;

If it be life to wear within myself

This barrenness of spirit, and to be
My own soul's sepulchre, for I have ceased

To justify my deeds unto myself—
The last infirmity of evil. Ay,

Thou winged and cloud-cleaving minister,

[An eagle passes.

Whose happy flight is highest into heaven,
Well may'st thou swoop so near me—I should be
Thy prey, and gorge thine eaglets; thou art gone
Where the eye cannot follow thee; but thine
Yet pierces downward, onward, or above
With a pervading vision.-Beautiful!
How beautiful is all this visible world!

How glorious in its action and itself;

But we, who name ourselves its sovereigns, we,
Half dust, half deity, alike unfit

To sink or soar, with our mix'd essence make

A conflict of its elements, and breathe

The breath of degradation and of pride,
Contending with low wants and lofty will
Till our mortality predominates,

And men are—what they name not to themselves,
And trust not to each other. Hark! the note,

[The Shepherd's pipe in the distance is heard.

The natural music of the mountain reed