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And woo compassion to a blighted name,
Sealing the sentence which my foes proclaim.
No-it shall be immortal!--and I make
A future temple of my present cell,
Which nations yet shall visit for my sake.
While thou, Ferrara! when no longer dwell
The ducal chiefs within thee, shalt fall down,
And crumbling piecemeal view thy hearthless halls,
A poet's wreath shall be thine only crown,
A poet's dungeon thy most far renown,
While strangers wonder o'er thy unpeopled walls!
And thou, Leonora! thou-who wert ashamed
That such as I could love-who blush'd to hear
To less than monarchs that thou could'st be dear,
Go! tell thy brother that my heart untamed
By grief, years, weariness--and it may be
A taint of that he would impute to me
From long infection of a den like this,
Where the mind rots congenial with the abyss,
Adores thee still;--and add--that when the towers
And battlements which guard his joyous hours
Of banquet, dance, and revel, are forgot,
Or left untended in a dull repose,
This—this shall be a consecrated spot!
But Thou-when all that Birth and Beauty throws
Of magic round thee is extinct-shalt bave
One half the laurel which o'ershades my grave,
No power is death can tear our names apart,
As none in life could rend thee from my heart.
Yes, Leonora! it shall be our fate
To be entwined for ever-but too late!


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" And it came to pass •

that the sons of God saw the daughters of men that they were fair; and they took them wives of all which they chose.”

" And woman wailing for her demon lover."---Coleridge.





RAPHAEL the Archangel,
Men. -Noan and his Sons.


Chorus of Spirits of the Earth.-Chorus of Mortals.

SCENE 1. A woody and mountainous district near Mount Ararat.-- Time,

midnight.--Enter Anah and AHOLI BAMAH. Anah. Our father sleeps: it is the hour when they Who love us are accustomed to descend Through the deep clouds o'er rocky Ararat:How my

heart beats!


Let us proceed upon Our invocation.

Anah. But the stars are hidden
I tremble.

Aho. So do I, but not with fear
Of augbt save their delay.

My sister, though
I love Azaziel more thap-oh, too much!
What was I going to say? my heart grows impious.

Aho. And where is the impiety of loving
Celestial uatures?

But, Aholibamah,
I love our God less since his angel loved me:
This cannot be of good; and though I know not
That I do wrong, I feel a thousand fears
Which are not ominous of right.

Then wed thee
Unto some son of clay, and toil and spin!
There's Japbet loves thee well, bath loved thee long
Marry, and bring forth dust!

I should have loved
Azaziel not less were he mortal; yet
I am glad he is not. I cannot outlive him.
And wben I think that his immortal wings
Will one day hover o'er the sepulchre
Of the poor child of clay which so adored him,
As he adores the Highest, death becomes
Less terrible; but yet I pity him;
His grief will be of ages, or at least
Mine would be such for him, were I the Seraph,
And he the perishable.

That he will single forth some other daughter
Of Earth, and love her as he once loved Anah.

Rather say,

Anah. And if it should be so, and she so loved him, Better thus than that he should weep for me.

Aho. If I thought thus of Samiasa's love,
All Seraph as he is, I'd spurn bim from me.
But to our invocation! 'Tis the hour.


From thy sphere!
Whatever star contain thy glory;

In the eternal depths of heaven

Albeit thou watchest with “ the seven,'
Though through space infinite and hoary
Before thy bright wings worlds be driven,

Yet hear!
Oh! think of ber who holds thee dear!

And though she nothing is to thee,
Yet think that thou art all to her.

Thou canst not tell, and never be
Such pangs decreed to aught save me,-

The bitterness of tears.

Eternity is in thine years,
Unborn, undying beauty in thine eyes;
With me thou canst not sympathize,

Except in love, and there thou must

Acknowledge that more loving dust
Ne'er wept beneath the skies.
Thou walk'st thy many worlds, thou see'st

The face of him who made thee great,
As he hath made me of the least
Of those cast out from Eden's gate:
Yet, Seraph dear!

Oh hear!
For thou hast loved me, and I would not die
Until I know what I must die in knowing,
* The Archangels, said to be seven in number.

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