The armaments which thunderstrike the walls These are thy toys, and, as the snowy flake, Thy shores are empires, changed in all save thee Assyria, Greece, Rome, Carthage, what are they? Thy waters wasted them while they were free, And many a tyrant since; their shores obey The stranger, slave, or savage; their decay Has dried up realms to deserts: not so thou, Unchangeable save to thy wild waves' play Time writes no wrinkle on thine azure brow Such as creation's dawn beheld, thou rollest now. Thou glorious mirror, where the Almighty's form Calm or convulsed in breeze, or gale, or storm, Dark-heaving; boundless, endless, and sublime Of the Invisible; even from out thy slime The monsters of the deep are made; each zone Obeys thee; thou goest forth, dread, fathomless, alone. And I have loved thee, Ocean! and my joy as I do here. II. INCANTATION. (From Manfred.) When the moon is on the wave, 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, Thou canst never be alone; Thou art wrapt as with a shroud, Enter CAIN and ADAH. Adah. Hush! tread softly, Cain. Cain. I will; but wherefore? Adah. Our little Enoch sleeps upon yon bed Of leaves, beneath the cypress. Cain. Cypress! 'tis A gloomy tree, which looks as if it mourn'd O'er what it shadows; wherefore didst thou choose it For our child's canopy? Adah. Because its branches Shut out the sun like night, and therefore seem'd Cain. And longest; but no matter Ay, the last lead me to him. [They go up to the child. How lovely he appears! his little cheeks, And his lips, too, How beautifully parted! No; you shall not But it were pity to disturb him till 'Tis closed. Cain. You have said well; I will contain My heart till then. He smiles, and sleeps! - Sleep on Of a world scarce less young: sleep on, and smile! Lashes, dark as the cypress which waves o'er them; Laughs out, although in slumber. He must dream Ay! dream of it, My disinherited boy! 'Tis but a dream; For never more thyself, thy sons, nor fathers, Shall walk in that forbidden place of joy! Adah. Dear Cain! Nay, do not whisper o'er our son Such melancholy yearnings o'er the past: Why wilt thou always mourn for Paradise? Can we not make another? Cain. Adah. Where? Here, or Where'er thou wilt: where'er thou art, I feel not Cain. Yes death, too, is amongst the debts we owe her. Hath saddened thine still deeper. I had hoped The promised wonders which thou hast beheld, Visions, thou say'st, of past and present worlds, Thy guide hath done thee evil: still I thank him, Hath given thee back to us. Cain. So soon? 'Tis scarcely Two hours since ye departed: two long hours Cain. And yet I have approach'd that sun, and seen Worlds which he once shone on, and never more Shall light; and worlds he never lit: methought Adah. Hardly hours. Cain. The mind, then, hath capacity of time, And measures it by that which it beholds, Pleasing or painful; little or almighty. I had beheld the immemorial works Of endless beings; skirr'd extinguish'd worlds; I had borrow'd more by a few drops of ages My littleness again. Well said the spirit, Adah. Jehovah said not that. Cain. Wherefore said he so? No: He contents Him With making us the nothing which we are; It back to dust again for what? Adah. Even for our parents' error. Cain. Thou know'st What is that To us? they sinn'd, then let them die! Adah. Thou hast not spoken well, nor is that thought Thy own, but of the spirit who was with thee. Would I could die for them, so they might live! Cain. Why, so say I provided that one victim Might satiate the insatiable of life, And that our little rosy sleeper there Might never taste of death nor human sorrow, Nor hand it down to those who spring from him. Adah. How know we that some such atonement one day May not redeem our race? Cain. By sacrificing The harmless for the guilty! What atonement Were there? Why, we are innocent: what have we Adah. Alas! thou sinnest now, my Čain: thy words Sound impious in mine ears. Cain. Though thy God left thee. Cain. Then leave me! Never, Say, what have we here? Adah. Two altars, which our brother Abel made During thine absence, whereupon to offer A sacrifice to God on thy return. Cain. And how knew he, that I would be so ready With the burnt offerings, which he daily brings With a meek brow, whose base humility Shows more of fear than worship, as a bribe To the Creator? Adah. Surely, 'tis well done. Cain. One altar may suffice; I have no offering. Adah. The fruits of the earth, the early, beautiful, Blossom and bud, and bloom of flowers, and fruits; These are a goodly offering to the Lord, Given with a gentle and a contrite spirit. Cain. I have toil'd, and till'd, and sweaten in the sun, According to the curse: must I do more? For what should I be gentle? for a war With all the elements ere they will yield The bread we eat? For what must I be grateful? For being dust, and grovelling in the dust, Till I return to dust? If I am nothing For nothing shall I be an hypocrite, And seem well pleased with pain? For what should I Expiate with what we all have undergone, And to be more than expiated by The ages prophesied, upon our seed? Little deems our young blooming sleeper there, The germs of an eternal misery To myriads is within him! Better 'twere |