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, Of rugged desolation, and fill'd up, And making that which was not, till the place 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 Recoils on me; its good in the effect May light upon your head-could I say heart- 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 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. 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. Nor will I hence, while I have earthly breath SPIRIT. Reluctant mortal! Is this the Magian who would so pervade MAN. Thou false fiend, thou liest! My life is in its last hour,—that I know, And gave ye no supremacy: I stand |