And see, the heavens bow down, the waters rise, Descends, and shuts the vision from their sight. CANTO III. An Assembly of Evil Spirits. THO' changed my cloth of gold for amice grey-- And saw-and wondered whence his Power He drew, Of his great Foes in earth and air and flood, And the Night coming - - - and my Task not done! - 'Twas in the deep, immeasurable cave Of ANDES, echoing to the Southern wave, That, giant-like, to upper day aspire, 'Twas there that now, as wont in heaven to shine, Forms of angelic mould and grace divine Assembled. All, exiled the realms of rest, What time the song of death is in the breeze! That many an age the fusing sulphur bore, They held high council. All was silence round, A sovereign Spirit burst the gates of night, And from his wings of gold shook drops of liquid light! By Ocean severed from a world of shade. I. "Prepare, again prepare," Thus o'er the soul the thrilling accents came, He, on whose call afflicting thunders wait, In vain the legions, emulous to save, Hung in the tempest o'er the troubled main; Turned each presumptuous prow that broke the wave, And dashed it on its shores again. All is fulfilled! Behold, in close array, What mighty banners stream in the bright track of day! II. "No voice, as erst, shall in the desert rise; Nor ancient, dread solemnities. With scorn of death the trembling tribes inspire. Wreaths for the Conqueror's brow the victims bind! Yet, tho' we fled yon firmament of fire, Still shall we fly, all hope of rule resigned?" He spoke; and all was silence, all was night! Each had already winged his formidable flight. |