When the hot sun bath baked the reeking soil
Into a world, shall give again to Time
New beings-years-diseases-sorrow-crime-
With all companionship of hate and toil,
Until-

Japh. (interrupting them.) The eternal will
Shall deign to expound this dream
Of good and evil; and redeem
Unto himself all times, all things;
And, gather'd under his almighty wings,
Abolish hell!

And to the expiated Earth
Restore the beauty of her birth,

Her Eden in an endless paradise,

Where man no more can fall as once he fell,

And even the very demons shall do well!

[spell?

Spirits. And when shall take effect this wond'rous Japh. When the Redeemer cometh; first in pain, And then in glory.

Spirit. Meantime still struggle in the mortal chain,
Till earth wax hoary:

War with yourselves, and hell, and heaven, in vain,
Until the clouds look gory

With the blood reeking from each battle plain:

New times, new climes, new arts, new men; but still
The same old tears, old crimes, and oldest ill,
Shall be amongst your race in different forms;
But the same moral storms

Shall oversweep the future, as the waves
In a few hours the glorious Giant's graves.*

Chorus of Spirits..

Brethren, rejoice!

* "And there were Giants in those days, and after; mighty men, which

were of old men of renown."--Genesis.

Mortal, farewell!

Hark! hark! already we can hear the voice
Of growing ocean's gloomy swell;

The winds, too, plume their piercing wings!

The clouds have nearly filled their springs;
The fountains of the great deep shall be broken,
And heaven set wide her windows; while mankind
View, unacknowledged, each tremendous token—
Still, as they were from the beginning, blind.
We hear the sound they cannot hear,

The mustering thunders of the threatening sphere;
Yet a few hours their coming is delay'd;

Their flashing banners, folded still on high,
Yet undisplay'd,

Save to the Spirits' all-pervading eye.

Howl! howl! oh Earth!

Thy death is nearer than thy recent birth:
Tremble, ye mountains, soon to shrink below
The ocean's overflow!

The wave shall break upon your cliffs; and shells,
The little shells, of ocean's least things be
Deposed where now the eagle's offspring dwells-
How shall he shriek o'er the remorseless sea!
And call his nestlings up with fruitless yell,
Unanswered, save by the encroaching swell;-
While man shall long in vain for his broad wings,

The wings which could not save.

Where could he rest them, while the whole space brings Nought to his eye beyond the deep, his grave? Brethren, rejoice!

And loudly lift each superhuman voice

All die,

Save the slight remnant of Seth's seed-
The seed of Seth,

Exempt for future Sorrow's sake from death.

But of the sons of Cain

None shall remain;

And all his goodly daughters

Must lie beneath the desolating waters;
Or, floating upward, with their long hair laid
Along the wave, the cruel heaven upbraid,
Which would not spare

Beings even in death so fair,
It is decreed,

All die!

And to the universal human cry

The universal silence shall succeed!

Fly, brethren, fly!

But still rejoice!
We fell!

They fall!

So perish all

These petty foes of Heaven who shrink from Hell!

[The Spirits disappear, soaring upwards.

[Earth;

Japh. (solus.) God hath proclaimed the destiny of My father's ark of safety hath announced it; The very demons shriek it from their caves; The scroll* of Enoch prophesied it long In silent books, which, in their silence, say More to the mind than thunder to the ear: And yet men listen'd not, nor listen;

but

Walk darkling to their doom; which, though so nigh, Shakes them no more in their dim disbelief,

Than their last cries shall shake the Almighty purpose,

Or deaf obedient Ocean, which fulfils it.

No sign yet hangs its banner in the air;

The clouds are few, and of their wonted texture;
The sun will rise upon the earth's last day

* The Book of Enoch, preserved by the Ethiopians, is said by them to be anterior to the Flood:

As on the fourth day of creation, when

God said unto him, "Shine!" and he broke forth
Into the dawn, which lighted not the yet-
Unform'd forefather of mankind-but roused.
Before the human orison the earlier

Made and far sweeter voices of the birds,
Which in the open firmament of heaven
Have wings like angels, and like them salute
Heaven first each day before the Adamites:
Their matins now draw nigh-the East is kindling-
And they will sing! and day will break! Both near,
So near the awful close! For these must drop
Their outworn pinions on the deep; and Day,
After the bright course of a few brief morrows,—
Ay, day will rise; but upon what? A chaos,
Which was ere day; and which, renew'd, makes time
Nothing! for, without life, what are the hours?
No more to dust than is eternity

Unto Jehovah, who created both.

Without him, even Eternity would be

A void: without man, Time, as made for man,
Dies with man, and is swallow'd in that Deep
Which has no fountain; as his race will be
Devour'd by that which drowns his infant world.
What have we here? Shapes of both earth and air?
No-all of heaven, they are so beautiful.

I cannot trace their features; but their forms,
How lovelily they move along the side
Of the gray mountain, scattering its mist!
And after the swart savage spirits, whose
Infernal Immortality pour'd forth

Their impious hymn of triumph, they shall be
Welcome as Eden. It may be they come
To tell me the reprieve of our young world,

For which I have so often pray'd-They come!
Anah! oh, God! and with her-

Enter SAMIASA, AZAZIEL, ANAH, and AHOLIBAMAR.

Japh.

Angel! what Dost thou on earth when thou should'st be on high? Aza. Know'st thou not, or forget'st thou, that a part Of our great function is to guard thine earth' Japh. But all good angels have forsaken earth, Which is condemn'd; nay, even the evil fly The approaching Chaos, Anah! Anah! my In vain, and long, and still to be beloved! Why walk'st thou with this Spirit, in those hours When no good spirit longer lights below?

Anah. Japhet, I cannot answer thee, yet, yet Forgive me

Japh. May the Heaven, which soon no more Will pardon, do so! for thou art greatly tempted. Aho. Back to thy tents, insulting son of Noah! We know thee not.

Japh.
The hour may come when thou
May'st know me better; and thy sister know
Me still the same which I have ever been.

Sam. Son of the Patriarch, who hath ever been
Upright before his God, whate'er thy griefs,
And thy words seem of sorrow, mix'd with wrath,
How have Azaziel, or myself, brought on thee
Wrong?

Japh. Wrong! the greatest of all wrongs; but thou Say'st well, though she be dust, I did not, could not, Deserve her. Farewell, Anah! I have said