XIX.

She spake in language whose strange melody
Might not belong to earth. I heard, alone,
What made its music more melodious be,
The pity and the love of every tone;

But to the snake those accents sweet were known,
His native tongue and hers: nor did he beat
The hoar spray idly then, but winding on

Through the green shadows of the waves that meet
Near to the shore, did pause beside her snowy feet.

XX.

Then on the sands the Woman sate again,

And wept and clasped her hands, and all between,
Renewed the unintelligible strain

Of her melodious voice and eloquent mien;

And she unveiled her bosom, and the green

And glancing shadows of the sea did play

O'er its marmoreal depth :-one moment seen,
For ere the next, the Serpent did obey

Her voice, and, coiled in rest, in her embrace it lay.

XXI.

Then she arose, and smiled on me with eyes Serene yet sorrowing, like that planet fair, While yet the day-light lingereth in the skies Which cleaves with arrowy beams the dark-red air, And said: To grieve is wise, but the despair Was weak and vain which led thee here from sleep: This shalt thou know, and more, if thou dost dare With me and with this Serpent, o'er the deep, A voyage divine and strange, companionship to keep.

XXII.

Her voice was like the wildest, saddest tone,
Yet sweet, of some loved voice heard long ago.

I wept. Shall this fair woman all alone

Over the sea with that fierce Serpent go?
His head is on her heart, and who can know

How soon he may devour his feeble prey?

Such were my thoughts, when the tide 'gan to flow;

And that strange boat, like the moon's shade did sway Amid reflected stars that in the waters lay.

XXIII.

A boat of rare device, which had no sail

But its own curved prow of thin moonstone,
Wrought like a web of texture fine and frail,

To catch those gentlest winds which are not known
To breathe, but by the steady speed alone
With which it cleaves the sparkling sea; and now
We are embarked, the mountains hang and frown
Over the starry deep that gleams below

A vast and dim expanse, as o'er the waves we go.

XXIV.

And as we sailed, a strange and awful tale

That Woman told, like such mysterious dream
As makes the slumberer's cheek with wonder pale!
'Twas midnight, and around, a shoreless stream,
Wide ocean rolled, when that majestic theme
Shrined in her heart found utterance, and she bent
Her looks on mine; those eyes a kindling beam
Of love divine into my spirit sent,

And, ere her lips could move, made the air eloquent.

XXV.

Speak not to me, but hear! much shalt thou learn,
Much must remain unthought, and more untold,
In the dark Future's ever-flowing urn:

Know then, that from the depth of ages old

Two Powers o'er mortal things dominion hold,
Ruling the world with a divided lot,
Immortal, all-pervading, manifold,

Twin Genii, equal Gods-when life and thought
Sprang forth, they burst the womb of inessential Nought.

XXVI.

The earliest dweller of the world alone

Stood on the verge of chaos: Lo! afar

O'er the wide wild abyss two meteors shone,

Sprung from the depth of its tempestuous jar:

A blood-red Comet and the Morning Star
Mingling their beams in combat-as he stood
All thoughts within his mind waged mutual war
In dreadful sympathy-when to the flood

That fair star fell, he turned and shed his brother's blood.

XXVII.

Thus evil triumphed, and the Spirit of Evil,

One Power of many shapes which none may know,
One Shape of many names; the Fiend did revel

In victory, reigning o'er a world of woe,

For the new race of man went to and fro,

Famished and homeless, loathed and loathing, wild,
And hating good-for his immortal foe

He changed from starry shape, beauteous and mild,
To a dire Snake, with man and beast unreconciled.

XXVIII.

The darkness lingering o'er the dawn of things,
Was Evil's breath and life: this made him strong
To soar aloft with overshadowing wings;
And the great Spirit of Good did creep among
The nations of mankind, and every tongue

Cursed, and blasphemed him as he past; for none
Knew good from evil, though their names were hung
In mockery o'er the fane where many a groan,

As King, and Lord, and God, the conquering Fiend did own

XXIX.

The Fiend, whose name was Legion; Death, Decay.
Earthquake, and Blight, and Want, and Madness pale,
Winged and wan diseases, an array

Numerous as leaves that strew the autumnal gale;
Poison, a snake in flowers, beneath the veil
Of food and mirth, hiding his mortal head;
And, without whom all these might nought avail,
Fear, Hatred, Faith, and Tyranny, who spread
Those subtle nets which snare the living and the dead.

XXX.

His spirit is their power, and they his slaves

In air, in light, and thought, and language dwell;
And keep their state from palaces to graves,

In all resorts of men-invisible;

But when, in ebon mirror, Nightmare fell,
To tyrant or impostor bids them rise,

Black winged demon forms-whom, from the hell,
His reign and dwelling beneath nether skies,
He loosens to their dark and blasting ministries.

XXXI.

In the world's youth his empire was as firm
As its foundations-soon the Spirit of Good,
Though in the likeness of a loathsome worm,
Sprang from the billows of the formless flood,
Which shrank and fled; and with that fiend of blood
Renewed the doubtful war-thrones then first shook,
And earth's immense and trampled multitude,
In hope on their own powers began to look,
And Fear, the demon pale, his sanguine shrine forsook.

XXXII.

Then Greece arose, and to its bards and sages,
In dream the golden-pinioned Genii came,
Even where they slept amid the night of ages

Steeping their hearts in the divinest flame

Which thy breath kindled, Power of holiest name!
And oft in cycles since, when darkness gave
New weapons to thy foe, their sunlike fame

Upon the combat shone-a light to save,

Like Paradise spread forth beyond the shadowy grave.

XXXIII.

Such is this conflict-when mankind doth strive

With its oppressors in a strife of blood,

Or when free thoughts, like lightnings, are alive;

And in each bosom of the multitude

Justice and truth, with custom's hydra brood,

Wage silent war;-when priests and kings dissemble
In smiles or frowns their fierce disquietude,

When round pure hearts, a host of hopes assemble,

The Snake and Eagle meet-the world's foundations tremble!

XXXIV.

Thou hast beheld that fight-when to thy home
Thou dost return, steep not its hearth in tears;
Though thou may'st hear that earth is now become
The tyrant's garbage, which to his compeers,
The vile reward of their dishonoured years,
He will dividing give.-The victor Fiend
Omnipotent of yore, now quails, and fears
His triumph dearly won, which soon will lend
An impulse swift and sure to his approaching end.

List, stranger, list! mine is a human form,

Like that thou wearest-touch me-shrink not now!
My hand thou feel'st is not a ghost's, but warm
With human blood.-'Twas many years ago,
Since first my thirsting soul aspired to know
The secrets of this wondrous world, when deep
My heart was pierced with sympathy, for woe
Which could not be mine own-and thought did keep
In dream, unnatural watch beside an infant's sleep.

XXXVI.

Woe could not be mine own, since far from men
I dwelt, a free and happy orphan child,

By the sea-shore, in a deep mountain glen;
And near the waves, and through the forests wild,
I roamed, to storm and darkness reconciled,
For I was calm while tempest shook the sky:
But, when the breathless heavens in beauty smiled,
I wept sweet tears, yet too tumultuously

For peace, and clasped my hands aloft in ecstasy.

XXXVII.

These were forebodings of my fate.-Before
A woman's heart beat in my virgin breast,
It had been nurtured in divinest lore:
A dying poet gave me books, and blest
With wild but holy talk the sweet unrest
In which I watched him as he died away-
A youth with hoary hair-a fleeting guest
Of our lone mountains-and this lore did sway
My spirit like a storm, contending there alway.

XXXVIII.

Thus the dark tale which history doth unfold,
I knew, but not, methinks, as others know,
For they weep not; and Wisdom had unrolled
The clouds which hide the gulf of mortal woe :
To few can she that warning vision show,
For I loved all things with intense devotion;
So that when Hope's deep source in fullest flow,
Like earthquake did uplift the stagnant ocean

Of human thoughts-mine shook beneath the wide emotion.

XXXIX.

When first the living blood through all these veins
Kindled a thought in sense, great France sprang forth
And seized, as if to break, the ponderous chains
Which bind in woe the nations of the earth.

I saw, and started from my cottage hearth;
And to the clouds and waves in tameless gladness
Shrieked, till they caught immeasurable mirth-
And laughed in light and music: soon sweet madness
Was poured upon my heart, a soft and thrilling sadness.

XL.

Deep slumber fell on me ;-my dreams were fire,
Soft and delightful thoughts did rest and hover
Like shadows o'er my brain; and strange desire
The tempest of a passion, raging over

My tranquil soul, its depths with light did cover,
Which past; and calm, and darkness, sweeter far
Came-then I loved; but not a human lover!
For when I rose from sleep, the Morning Star

[were

Shone through the woodbine wreaths which round my casement

XLI.

'Twas like an eye which seemed to smile on me.

I watched till, by the sun made pale, it sank

Under the billows of the heaving sea;

But from its beams deep love my spirit drank, And to my brain the boundless world now shrank Into one thought-one image-yea, for ever! Even like the day's-spring, poured on vapours dank, The beams of that one star did shoot and quiver Through my benighted mind-and were extinguished never.

XLII.

The day past thus: at night, methought in dream

A shape of speechless beauty did appear;

It stood like light on a careering stream

Of golden clouds which shook the atmosphere;

A winged youth, his radiant brow did wear

The Morning Star: a wild dissolving bliss

Over my frame he breathed, approaching near,

And bent his eyes of kindling tenderness

Near mine, and on my lips impressed a lingering kiss,

XLIII.

And said: A Spirit loves thee, mortal maiden,

How wilt thou prove thy worth? Then joy and sleep
Together fled; my soul was deeply laden,
And to the shore I went to muse and weep;
But as I moved, over my heart did creep
A joy less soft, but more profound and strong
Than my sweet dream; and it forbade to keep
The path of the sea-shore: that Spirit's tongue
Seemed whispering in my heart, and bore my steps along.