A lump of death-a chaos of hard clay. The rivers, lakes, and ocean all stood still,

And nothing stirr'd within their silent depths:

Ships sailorless lay rotting on the sea, And their masts fell down piecemeal: as they dropp'd

They slept on the abyss without a surge

The waves were dead; the tides were in their grave,

The moon, their mistress, had expired before;

The winds were wither'd in the stagnant air,

And the clouds perish'd; Darkness had no need

Of aid from them-She was the Uni

And evil dread so ill dissembled, That in his hand the lightnings trembled.

Thy Godlike crime was to be kind,
To render with thy precepts less
The sum of human wretchedness,
And strengthen Man with his own mind;
But baffled as thou wert from high,
Still in thy patient energy,
In the endurance, and repulse

Of thine impenetrable Spirit,

Which Earth and Heaven could not convulse,

A mighty lesson we inherit: Thou art a symbol and a sign

To Mortals of their fate and force; Like thee, Man is in part divine,

A troubled stream from a pure scurce;
And Man in portions can foresee
His own funereal destiny;

His wretchedness, and his resistance,
And his sad unallied existence :
To which his Spirit may oppose
Itself and equal to all woes,

And a firm will, and a deep sense,
Which even in torture can descry

Its own concenter'd recompense, Triumphant where it dare defy, And making Death a Victory.

July, 1816. December, 1816.

SONNET TO LAKE LEMAN

ROUSSEAU-Voltaire-our Gibbon-and De Staël

Leman! these names are worthy of thy shore,

Thy shore of names like these! wert thou no more

Their memory thy remembrance would recall:

To them thy banks were lovely as to all,

But they have made them lovelier, for the lore

Of mighty minds doth hallow in the

core

Of human hearts the ruin of a wall Where dwelt the wise and wondrous; but by thee

How much more, Lake of Beauty! do we feel,

In sweetly gliding o'er thy crystal sea, The wild glow of that not ungentle zeal, Which of the heirs of immortality Is proud, and makes the breath of glory real! July, 1816. December 5, 1816.

Man. The lamp must be replenish'd, but even then

It will not burn so long as I must watch: My slumbers-if I slumber-are not sleep, But a continuance of enduring thought, Which then I can resist not in my heart There is a vigil, and these eyes but close To look within; and yet I live, and bear The aspect and the form of breathing men. But grief should be the instructor of the wise;

Sorrow is knowledge: they who know the most

Must mourn the deepest o'er the fatal truth,

The Tree of Knowledge is not that of

Life.

Philosophy and science, and the springs Of wonder, and the wisdom of the world, I have essay'd, and in my mind there is A power to make these subject to itselfBut they avail not: I have done men good, And I have met with good even among

men

But this avail'd not: I have had my foes, And none have baffled, many fallen re fore me

But this avail'd not :-Good, or evil, life, Powers, passions, all I see in other beings, Have been to me as rain unto the sands, Since that all-nameless hour. I have no dread,

And feel the curse to have no natural fear, Nor fluttering throb, that beats with hopes or wishes,

Or lurking love of something on the earth. Now to my task.—

Mysterious agency! Ye spirits of the unbounded Universe! Whom I have sought in darkness and in light

Ye, who do compass earth about, and dwell

In subtler essence-ye, to whom the tops
Of mountains inaccessible are haunts,
And earth's and ocean's caves familiar
things-

I call upon ye by the written charm
Which gives me power upon you-Rise!
Appear!
[A pause.
They come not yet.-Now by the voice

of him

Who is the first among you-by this sign, Which makes you tremble-by the claims of him

Who is undying,-Rise! Appear!
Appear!
[A pause.

If it be so-Spirits of earth and air,
Ye shall not thus elude me: by a power,
Deeper than all yet urged, a tyrant-spell,
Which had its birthplace in a star con-
demn'd,

The burning wreck of a demolish'd world,

A wandering hell in the eternal space; By the strong curse which is upon my

soul,

SECOND SPIRIT

Mont Blanc is the monarch of mountains;

They crown'd him long ago

On a throne of rocks, in a robe of clouds,
With a diadem of snow.

Around his waist are forests braced,
The Avalanche in his hand;
But ere it fall, that thundering ball
Must pause for my command.
The Glacier's cold and restless mass
Moves onward day by day;
But I am he who bids it pass,
Or with its ice delay.

I am the spirit of the place,

Could make the mountain bow And quiver to his cavern'd baseAnd what with me wouldst Thou?

THIRD SPIRIT

In the blue depth of the waters, Where the wave hath no strife, Where the wind is a stranger,

And the sea-snake hath life, Where the Mermaid is decking Her green hair with shells, Like the storm on the surface Came the sound of thy spells; O'er my calm Hall of Coral

The deep echo roll'dTo the Spirit of Ocean Thy wishes unfold!

FOURTH SPIRIT

Where the slumbering earthquake Lies pillow'd on fire,

And the lakes of bitumen

Rise boilingly higher; Where the roots of the Andes

Strike deep in the earth,

As their summits to heaven
Shoot soaringly forth;

I have quitted my birthplace,
Thy bidding to bide-
Thy spell hath subdued me,
Thy will be my guide!

FIFTH SPIRIT

I am the Rider of the wind,
The stirrer of the storm;
The hurricane I left behind
Is yet with lightning warm; ̧
To speed to thee, o'er shore and sea
I swept upon the blast:
The fleet I met sail'd well, and yet
'Twill sink ere night be past.

SIXTH SPIRIT

My dwelling is the shadow of the night, Why doth thy magic torture me with light?

SEVENTH SPIRIT

The star which rules thy destiny
Was ruled, ere earth began, by me:
It was a world as fresh and fair
As e'er revolved round sun in air;
Its course, was free and regular,
Space bosom'd not a lovelier star.
The hour arrived-and it became

A wandering mass of shapeless flame,
A pathless comet, and a curse,
The menace of the universe;
Still rolling on with innate force,
Without a sphere, without a course,
A bright deformity on high,
The monster of the upper sky!

And thou! beneath its influence born-
Thou worm! whom I obey and scorn--
Forced by a power (which is not thine,
And lent thee but to make thee mine)
For this brief moment to descend,
Where these weak spirits round thee bend
And parley with a thing like thee-
What wouldst thou, Child of Clay! with
me ?

Can ye not wring from out the hidden realms

Ye offer so profusely what I ask?

Spirit. It is not in our essence, in our skill;

But-thou may'st die.

Man. Will death bestow it on me? Spirit. We are immortal, and do not forget;

We are eternal; and to us the past Is, as the future, present. Art thou answer'd?

Man. Ye mock me-but the power which brought ye here

Hath made you mine. Slaves, scoff not at my will!

The mind, the spirit, the Promethean spark,

The lightning of my being, is as bright, Pervading, and far darting as your own, And shall not yield to yours, though coop'd in clay!

Answer, or I will teach you what I am. Spirit. We answer as we answer'd; our reply

Is even in thine own words.

Man. I then have call'd ye from your realms in vain ;

Ye cannot, or ye will not, aid me.
Spirit.

Say,

What we possess we offer; it is thine: Bethink ere thou dismiss us; ask again; Kingdom, and sway, and strength, and length of days

Man. Accursed! what have I to do with days?

They are too long already.-Hence-begone!

Spirit. Yet pause: being here, our will would do thee service; Bethink thee, is there then no other gift Which we can make not worthless in thine eyes?

Man. No, none: yet stay--one mo.

ment, ere we part,

Man. Oh God! if it be thus, and thou Art not a madness and a mockery, I yet might be most happy, I will clasp thee,

And we again will be

[The figure vanishes. My heart is crush'd!

[MANFRED falls senseless.

(A voice is heard in the Incantation which follows.)

When the moon is on the wave,
And the glow-worm in the grass,
And the meteor on the grave,

And the wisp on the morass;
When the falling stars are shooting,
And the answer'd owls are hooting,
And the silent leaves are still
In the shadow of the hill,
Shall my soul be upon thine,
With a power and with a sign.

Though thy slumber may be deep
Yet thy spirit shall not sleep;

There are shades which will not vanish,
There are thoughts thou canst

banish;

By a power to thee unknown,

Thou canst never be alone;

Thou art wrapt as with a shroud,

Thou art gather'd in a cloud;
And for ever shalt thou dwell
In the spirit of this spell.

Though thou seest me not pass by,
Thou shalt feel me with thine eye
As a thing that, though unseen,
Must be near thee, and hath been;
And when in that secret dread
Thou hast turn'd around thy head,
Thou shalt marvel I am not
As thy shadow on the spot,
And the power which thou dost feel
Shall be what thou must conceal.

not

And a magic voice and verse
Hath baptized thee with a curse;
And a spirit of the air

Hath begirt thee with a snare;
In the wind there is a voice
Shall forbid thee to rejoice;
And to thee shall night deny
All the quiet of her sky;

And the day shall have a sun,
Which shall make thee wish it done.

From thy false tears I did distil
An essence which hath strength to kill;
From thy own heart I then did wring
The black blood in its blackest spring;
From thy own smile I snatch'd the
snake,

For there it coil'd as in a brake;
From thy own lip I drew the charm
Which gave all these their chiefest
harm;

In proving every poison known,

I found the strongest was thine own,

By thy cold breast and serpent smile,
By thy unfathom'd gulfs of guile,
By that most seeming virtuous eye,
By thy shut soul's hypocrisy ;
By the perfection of thine art
Which pass'd for human thine own
heart;

By thy delight in others' pain,
And by thy brotherhood of Cain,
I call upon thee! and compel
Thyself to be thy proper Hell!

And on thy head I pour the vial
Which doth devote thee to this trial;
Nor to slumber, nor to die,
Shall be in thy destiny;

Though thy death shall still seem near
To thy wish, but as a fear;

Lo! the spell now works around thee,
And the clankless chain hath bound thee;
O'er thy heart and brain together
Hath the word been pass'd-now wither!