A noble wreck in ruinous perfection!

While Cæsar's chambers, and the Augustan halls, Grovel on earth in indistinct decay.—

And thou didst shine, thou rolling moon, upon

All this, and cast a wide and tender light,
Which soften'd down the hoar austerity

Of rugged desolation, and fill'd up,
As 'twere, anew, the gaps of centuries;
Leaving that beautiful which still was so,

And making that which was not, till the place
Became religion, and the heart ran o'er

With silent worship of the great of old !—

The dead, but sceptred sovereigns, who still rule

Our spirits from their urns.—

"Twas such a night!

"Tis strange that I recall it at this time;

But I have found our thoughts take wildest flight Even at the moment when they should array

Themselves in pensive order.

ABBOT.

Enter the ABBOT.

My good Lord!

I crave a second for this approach;

grace

But yet let not my humble zeal offend
By its abruptness-all it hath of ill

Recoils on me; its good in the effect

May light upon your head-could I say heart-
Could I touch that, with words or prayers, I should
Recall a noble spirit which hath wander'd;

But is not yet all lost.

MAN.

Thou know'st me not;

My days are number'd, and my deeds recorded :

Retire, or 'twill be dangerous-Away!

ABBOT. Thou dost not mean to menace me?

And steadfastly;-now tell me what thou seest?

ABBOT. That which should shake me,-but I fear it

not

I see a dusk and awful figure rise

Like an infernal god from out the earth;

His face wrapt in a mantle, and his form

Robed as with angry clouds; he stands between
Thyself and me-but I do fear him not.

MAN. Thou hast no cause-he shall not harm thee

but

His sight may shock thine old limbs into palsy.

I say to thee-Retire!

Аввот.

And I reply

Never-till I have battled with this fiend

What doth he here?

MAN.

Why-ay-what doth he here?—

I did not send for him, he is unbidden.

ABBOT. Alas! lost mortal! what with guests like these

Hast thou to do? I tremble for thy sake;

Why doth he gaze on thee, and thou on him?

Ah! he unveils his aspect; on his brow

The thunder-scars are graven; from his eye

Glares forth the immortality of hell

Avaunt!

MAN.

SPIRIT.

Pronounce-what is thy mission?

Come!

ABBOT. What art thou, unknown being? answer!

speak!

SPIRIT. The genius of this mortal.-Come! 'tis time. MAN. I am prepared for all things, but deny The power which summons me. Who sent thee here? SPIRIT. Thou'lt know anon-Come! come!

ΜΑΝ.

I have commanded

Things of an essence greater far than thine,

And striven with thy masters. Get thee hence!
SPIRIT. Mortal! thine hour is come-Away! I say.
MAN. I knew, and know my hour is come, but not
To render up my soul to such as thee:
Away! I'll die as I have lived-alone.

SPIRIT. Then I must summon up my brethren.-Rise!

[Other Spirits rise up.

ABBOT. Avaunt! ye evil ones!-Avaunt! I say,―

Ye have no power where piety hath power,

And I do charge ye in the name

SPIRIT.

Old man!

We know ourselves, our mission, and thine order;

Waste not thy holy words on idle uses,

It were in vain; this man is forfeited.
Once more I summon him-Away! away!
MAN. I do defy ye,-though I feel my soul
Is ebbing from me, yet I do defy ye;

Nor will I hence, while I have earthly breath
To breathe my scorn upon ye-earthly strength
To wrestle, though with spirits; what ye take
Shall be ta'en limb by limb.

SPIRIT.

Reluctant mortal!

Is this the Magian who would so pervade
The world invisible, and make himself
Almost our equal?-Can it be that thou
Art thus in love with life? the very life
Which made thee wretched!

MAN.

Thou false fiend, thou liest!

My life is in its last hour,—that I know,
Nor would redeem a moment of that hour;
I do not combat against death, but thee
And thy surrounding angels; my past power
Was purchased by no compact with thy crew,
But by superior science-penance-daring—
And length of watching-strength of mind--and skill
In knowledge of our fathers-when the earth
Saw men and spirits walking side by side,

And gave ye no supremacy: I stand
Upon my strength-I do defy-deny-
Spurn back, and scorn ye!—