Am I;-their wild manes o'er wild ocean rolled, Like fire-flakes, wreathe the billows, and their neigh Doth chide the clarion-clang of Ocean old.
I dash amidst them, eager for the fray;
Doth plunge my Charger with me; he doth swim, Wild in his fierceness, through the flashing spray; As if a lightning-stroke had blinded him, And darted phrenzy to his brain, and he Were maddened with the torture in each limb, And sweat' and shrieked in sightless agony, And made huge havoc in his maniac might, "Till his heart burst. Then, on the exhausted sea, The waves drop down, and, in the dull twilight, Lay sluggishly about the riven hulk,
O'er which the day rose sunless as the night, Or glared portentous on the sail-less bulk With a red eye and fiery. Lo, I
Chafe Ocean, that he waken from his sulk Awhile, and blow a gale though weariedly And brief;-yet unto me the billows spring, Wild playmates, and a low-breathed harmony We utter round the hopeless bark, and sing A doleful and predestinating dirge.
Then droops again old Ocean, murmuring, Like to a dreaming giant, whom no scourge May waken more, basking in watchet weeds Under the calm blue heaven; while on the verge Of that doomed ship gaunt Famine sits, and feeds On flesh of men; with Thirst that drinks their blood; And Pestilence, glad of their savage deeds,
That, shivering at the helmless stern, doth brood, Couchant o'er carcases. And I am there!
The Crater is my cra'le, . . where, in still mood, As in the womb the infant, in my lair Of sulphur I repose, which bubbleth up So gently, that the traveller well may dare Descending to the brim of that hot cup; As if, thus innocent, I might therein Dissolve, like to a pearl, for lips to sup, Ay, sweet as Cleopatra's. Now begin The waters to ferment, and central fire To howl, and with huge uproar and wild din, Earth's matrix with prodigious throes heaves dire; And there, in that capacious cavern, boil
The floods as in a cauldron, and perspire
Through all her pores, making the sea recoil From the bare shore affrightedly. Anon, The rocky pillars of the human soil
Shake, and the myriad mountains shiver down, Vast, subterrane, obscure, with hideous crash, Hurled by the winds into the abyss unknown; Then up the billows in fierce anger dash From chaos, seething like a yeasty wine Over its bursting vessel; as they clash, Straight do th' imprisoned vapours fiercely tine, And rage for vent. for vent. Earth Earth gapes convulsively, And vomits the Volcano. It is mine!
I make the solid ground like to the sea, And undulate like ocean billowy;
And the columnar smoke,-it chariots me,— That heaves aloft, a mass, into the sky, A funereal shade, a broad black stain, Like the pine's branches. In the flame am I Wherein the mountain melts, and in the rain Of ashes, and the lava flood. I burn
In the withering air, and on the molten plain. Men perish as they flee. When I return
With the swoln Neptune-lo, a vacant coast, Proud City late, but now an open Urn, Sepulchring her white ashes, or her ghost.
Strange pangs seize Earth. The sound of rushing wheels,
Whose axles burn with thunder, like a host! 'Tis he of the earth-shaking mace: She reels Inebriate with the terror of his coming.
He heard the clang of my pale courser's heels, And roused him at the summons of Death's dooming. Ay, Demigods are ye? (Then what am I,
Haught Deicide?) Ye who, with wrath consuming The World into a pyre, would deify
Yourselves, like Hercules, and climb in flame Audacious to the stars, and shine on high,
So purified by fire. Vaunt ye? Ye came,
And saw, and conquered-what? Worms, ashes, dust. I war with Heaven, and Him who rules the same, The Anointed, the Omnipotent, the Just,
The Good, the Wise, the Holy, and the One! His hand doth drop the golden chain, or must,
(The Father pierced in the begotten Son,) By which the pendant and terrestrial Orb Is ordered and sustained. The deed is done!
Lo, hungry Chaos yawneth to resorb Into his void immeasurable womb
The breathing Universe. Ready, my barb! Perish! Man-Angel. To the monstrous tomb, Being and Form, Intelligence and Power; All things create to unsubstantial gloom!
The engendered hour-the inevitable hour Born of th❜ unnumbered age by thought untrod― On the Creator his own heavens do lour. The Sun dies in his sphere, a kneaded clod, The empyreal canopy doth bow,
Dissolved in darkness o'er the dying God!
All Hell reverberates with the stricken blow; Her caves cry to each other, peal for peal, Yea, all her echoes are rejoicing now-
(What boots it hence their mysteries to conceal ?)—
And, like the voices of the waters, crowd
Together in their rivalry and zeal.
« VorigeDoorgaan » |