Rather than longer worship dared endure ! who still are pure!

But ye

Seraphs! less mighty than that mightiest one,
Think how he was undone !

And think if tempting man can compensate
For heaven desired too late?

Long have I warred,

Long must I war

With him who deem'd it hard

To be created, and to acknowledge him
Who midst the cherubim

Made him as suns to a dependent star,
Leaving the archangels at his right hand dim.

I loved him-beautiful he was: oh heaven! Save his who made, what beauty and what power Was ever like to Satan's! Would the hour

In which he fell could ever be forgiven!

The wish is impious: but oh ye!

Yet undestroyed, be warned! Eternity

With him, or with his God, is in your choice:
He hath not tempted you, he cannot tempt
The angels, from his further snares exempt;
But man hath listen'd to his voice,

And ye to woman's-beautiful she is,
The serpent's voice less subtle than her kiss,
The snake but vanquish'd dust; but she will draw
A second host from heaven, to break heaven's law.
Yet, yet, oh fly!

Ye cannot die,

But they

Shall pass away,

While ye shall fill with shrieks the upper sky

For perishable clay,

Whose memory in your immortality

Shall long outlast the sun which gave them day. Think how your essence differeth from theirs In all but suffering! Why partake

The agony to which they must be heirs

Born to be plough'd with years, and sown with cares,
And reap'd by Death, lord of the human soil?
Even had their days been left to toil their path
Through time to dust, unshorten'd by God's wrath,
Still they are Evil's prey and Sorrow's spoil.
Let them fly!

Aho.

I hear the voice which says that all must die,
Sooner than our white-bearded Patriarchs died;
And that on high

An ocean is prepared,

While from below

The deep shall rise to meet heaven's overflow.
Few shall be spared,

It seems; and, of that few, the race of Cain
Must lift their eyes to Adam's God in vain.
Sister! since it is so,

And the eternal Lord

In vain would be implored

For the remission of one hour of woe,
Let us resign even what we have adored,
And meet the wave, as we would meet the sword,
If not unmoved, yet undismay'd,

And wailing less for us than those who shall
Survive in mortal or immortal thrall,

And, when the fatal waters are allay'd,
Weep for the myriads who can weep no more.
Fly, Seraphs! to your own eternal shore,
Where winds nor howl nor waters roar..

Our portion is to die,

And yours to live for ever:

But which is best, a dead eternity,

Or living, is but known to the great Giver:
Obey him, as we shall obey;

I would not keep this life of mine in clay
An hour beyond his will;

Nor see ye lose a portion of his grace,
For all the mercy which Seth's race
Find still.
Fly!

And as your pinions bear ye back to heaven, Think that my love still mounts with thee on high, Samiasa!

And if I look up with a tearless eye,

'Tis that an angel's bride disdains to weepFarewell! Now rise, inexorable Deep!

Oh, my heart! my heart!

Thy prophecies were true,

And yet thou wert so happy too!

The blow, though not unlook'd for, falls as new;

But yet depart!

Ah, why?

Yet let me not retain thee-fly!

My pangs can be but brief; but thine would be
Eternal, if repulsed from heaven for me.
Too much already hast thou deign'd
To one of Adam's race!

Our doom is sorrow: not to us alone,
But to the spirits who have not disdained

To love us, cometh anguish with disgrace.

The first who taught us knowledge hath been hurled From his once archangelic throne

Into some unknown world:

And thou, Azaziel! No

Thou shalt not suffer woe

For me. Away! nor weep!

Thou canst not weep; but yet

Mayst suffer more, not weeping: then forget
Her, whom the surges of the all-strangling Deep
Can bring no pang like this. Fly! Fly!
Being gone, 'twill be less difficult to die.
Japh. Oh say not so!

Father! and thou, archangel, thou!
Surely celestial Mercy lurks below
That pure severe serenity of brow:

Let them not meet this sea without a shore,
Save in our ark, or let me be no more!

Noah. Peace, child of passion, peace!
If not within thy heart, yet with thy tongue
Do God no wrong!

Live as he wills it-die, when he ordains,
A righteous death, unlike the seed of Cain's.
Cease, or be sorrowful in silence; cease
To weary Heaven's ear with thy selfish plaint.
Would'st thou have God commit a sin for thee?
Such would it be

To alter his intent

For a mere mortal sorrow. Be a man!

And bear what Adam's race must bear, and can.
Japh. Ay, father! but when they are gone,
And we are all alone,

Floating upon the azure desart, and

The depth beneath us hides our own dear land,
And dearer, silent friends and brethren, all
Buried in its immeasurable breast,

Who, who, our tears, our shrieks, shall then command?
Can we in desolation's peace have rest?

Oh God! be thou a God, and spare

Yet while 'tis time!

Renew not Adam's fall:

Mankind were then but twain,

But they are numerous now as are the waves

And the tremendous rain,

Whose drops shall be less thick than would their

Were graves permitted to the seed of Cain.

graves,

Noah. Silence, vain boy! each word of thine's a crime!

Angel! forgive this stripling's fond despair.

Raph. Seraphs! these mortals speak in passion: Ye! Who are, or should be, passionless and pure,

Japh.

power,

Alas! where shall they dwell?

Hark, hark! Deep sounds, and deeper still,
Are howling from the mountain's bosom :
There's not a breath of wind upon the hill,
Yet quivers every leaf, and drops each blossom:
arth groans as if beneath a heavy load.