Nor could he be a part of that which prey d
Upon her mind-a spectre of the past.

VI.

A change came o'er the spirit of my dream.
The Wanderer was return'd--I saw him stand
Before an Altar-with a gentle bride;

Her face was fair, but was not that which made
The Starlight of his Boyhood;-as he stood
Even at the altar, o'er his brow there came
The selfsame aspect, and the quivering shock
That in the antique Oratory shook

His bosom in its solitude; and then-
As in that hour-a moment o'er his face
The tablet of unutterable thoughts

Was traced-and then it faded as it came,

And he stood calm and quiet, and he spoke

The fitting vows, but heard not his own words,
And all things reel'd around him; he could see
Not that which was, nor that which should have been
But the old mansion, and the accustom'd hall,
And the remember'd chambers, and the place,
The day, the hour, the sunsnine, and the shade,
All things pertaining to that place, and hour,
And her who was his destiny, came back
And thrust themselves between him and the light:
What business had they there at such a time?

VII.

A change came o'er the spirit of my dream.
The Lady of his love;-Oh! she was changed,
As by the sickness of the soul; her mind
Had wander'd from its dwelling, and her eyes,
They had not their own lustre, but the look
Which is not of the earth; she was become
The queen of a fantastic realm; her thoughts
Were combinations of disjointed things;
And forms impalpable and unperceived
Of others' sight familiar were to hers.
And this the world calls frenzy; but the wise
Have a far deeper madness, and the glance
Of melancholy is a fearful gift;

What is it but the telescope of truth?
Which strips the distance of its fantasies,
And brings life near in utter nakedness,
Making the cold reality too real!

VIII.

A change came o'er the spirit of my dream.
The Wanderer was alone as heretofore,
The beings which surrounded him were gone,
Or were at war with him; he was a mark
For blight and desolation, compass'd round
With Hatred and Contention; Pain was mix'd
In all which was served up to him, until,
Like to the Pontic monarch of old days,*

Mithridates of Pontus.-B.

He fed on poisons, and they had no power,
But were a kind of nutriment; he lived
Through that which had been death to many men.
And made him friends of mountains: with the stars
And the quick Spirit of the Universe

He held his dialogues; and they did teach
To him the magic of their mysteries;
To him the book of Night was open'd wide,
And voices from the deep abyss reveal'd
A marvel and a secret-Be it so.

IX.

My dream was past; it had no further change.
It was of a strange order, that the doom

Of these two creatures should be thus traced out
Almost like a reality-the one

To end in madness-both in misery.

July, 1816.

MANFRED;

A DRAMATIC POEM

There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy."

DRAMATIS PERSONA.

MANFRED.

CHAMOIS HUNTER.

ABBOT OF ST MAURICE.

MANUEL.

HERMAN.

WITCH OF THE ALPS.

ARIMANES.

NEMESIS.

THE DESTINIES.

SPIRITS, &c.

The Scene of the Drama is amongst the Higher Alps-partly in the Castle of Manfred, and partly in the Mountains.

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!
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!

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 birth-place in a star condemn'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,

The thought which is within me and around me,

I do compel ye to my will.-Appear!

(A pause.)

(A pause)

(A star is seen at the darker end of the gallery; it is stationary, and a voice is heard singing.)

FIRST SPIRIT.

Mortal to thy bidding bow'd,

From my mansion in the cloud,

Which the breath of twilight builds,

And the summer's sunset gilds

With the azure and vermilion,
Which is mix'd for my pavilion:
Though thy quest may be forbidden,
On a star-beam I have ridden;
To thine adjuration bow'd,
Mortal-be thy wish avow'd!

Voice of the 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 base-
And what with me wouldst Thou?

Voice of the 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;