Cattle to shelter scudded in affright;
The florid Evening vanish'd into night:
Then burst the hurricane upon the vale,
In peals of thunder, and thick-volley'd hail;
Prone rushing rains with torrents whelm'd the land;
Our cot amidst a river seem'd to stand;
Around its base, the foamy-crested streams
Flash'd through the darkness to the lightning's gleams; With monstrous throes an earthquake heaved the ground; The rocks were rent, the mountains trembled round.
Amidst this war of elements, within
More dreadful grew the sacrifice of sin,
Whose victim on his bed of torture lay,
Breathing the slow remains of life away.
Erewhile, victorious faith sublimer rose
Beneath the pressure of collected woes;
But now his spirit waver'd, went and came,
Like the loose vapour of departing flame,
Till at the point, when comfort seem'd to die
For ever in his fix'd unclosing eye,
Bright through the smouldering ashes of the man,
The saint brake forth, and Adam thus began :—
"O ye who shudder at this awful strife,
This wrestling agony of Death and Life,
Think not that He, on whom my soul is cast,
Will leave me thus forsaken to the last;
Nature's infirmity alone you see;
My chains are breaking, I shall soon be free:
Though firm in God the spirit holds her trust,
The flesh is frail, and trembles into dust.
Thou, of my faith the Author and the End!
Mine early, late, and everlasting Friend!
The joy, that once Thy presence gave, restore,
Ere I am summon'd hence, and seen no more;
Down to the dust returns this earthly frame-
Receive my spirit, Lord! from whom it came."
He closed his eyelids with a tranquil smile,
And seem'd to rest in silent prayer awhile:
Around his couch with filial awe we kneel'd,
When suddenly a light from heaven reveal'd
A Spirit, that stood within the unopen'd door,
The sword of God in his right hand he bore;
His countenance was lightning, and his vest
Like snow at sun-rise on the mountain's crest;
Yet so benignly beautiful his form,
His presence still'd the fury of the storm;
At once the winds retire, the waters cease;
His look was love, his salutation "Peace!"
Our Mother first beheld him, sore amazed,
But terror grew to transport, while she gazed.—-
""Tis he, the Prince of Seraphim! who drove
Our banish'd feet from Eden's happy grove.
Adam, my Life, my Spouse, awake!" she cried;
"Return to Paradise; behold thy Guide!
O let me follow in this dear embrace!"
She sunk, and on his bosom hid her face.
Adam look'd up; his visage changed its hue,
Transform'd into an Angel's at the view.
"I come!" he cried, with faith's full triumph fir'd, And in a sigh of ecstasy expir'd.
The light was vanish'd, and the vision fled;
We stood alone, the living with the dead;
The ruddy embers, glimmering round the room,
Display'd the corpse amidst the solemn gloom;
But o'er the scene a holy calm repos'd,
The gate of heaven had open'd there, and clos'd.
Hart. And not her mind? oh, direst wreck of all!
That noble mind!-But 'tis some passing seizure,
Some powerful movement of a transient nature;
It is not madness!
Theo. 'Tis Heaven's infliction; let us call it so;
Eleanora. Nay, do not thus despair; when she beholds us, She'll know her friends, and, by our kindly soothing,
Be gradually restored
Alice. Let me go to her.
Theo. Nay, forbear, I pray thee;
I will myself with thee, my worthy Hartman,
Go in and lead her forth.
Orra. Come back, come back! the fierce and fiery light! Theo. Shrink not, dear love! it is the light of day.
Have cocks crow'd yet?
Theo. Yes; twice I've heard already
Their matin sound. Look up to the blue sky-
Is it not daylight there? And these green boughs
Are fresh and fragrant round thee; every sense
Tells thee it is the cheerful early day.
Orra. Aye, so it is; day takes his daily turn,
Rising between the gulfy dells of night,
Like whiten'd billows on a gloomy sea.
Till glow-worms gleam, and stars peep through the dark,
And will-o'-the-wisp his dancing taper light,
They will not come again.
[Bending her ear to the ground.
Hark, hark! aye, hark!
They are all there: I hear their hollow sound
Full many a fathom down.
Theo. Be still, poor troubled soul! they'll ne'er return-
They are for ever gone. Be well assured
Thou shalt from henceforth have a cheerful home,
With crackling fagots on thy midnight fire,
Blazing like day around thee; and thy friends-
Thy living, loving friends-still by thy side,
To speak to thee and cheer thee. See, my Orra!
They are beside thee now; dost thou not know them?
Orra. No, no! athwart the wav'ring garish light,
Things move and seem to be, and yet are nothing.
Elea. My gentle Orra! hast thou then forgot me?
Dost not thou know my voice?
Orra. 'Tis like an old tune to my ear return'd.
For there be those who sit in cheerful halls,
And breathe sweet air, and speak with pleasant sounds;
And once I liv'd with such; some years gone by,-
Hughobert. Keen words that rend my heart! thou hadst a home, And one whose faith was pledged for thy protection.
Urston. Be more composed, my Lord; some faint remembrance Returns upon her, with the well-known sound
Of voices once familiar to her ear.
Let Alice sing to her some fav'rite tune,
That may lost thoughts recall.
Orra. Ha, ha! the witch'd air sings for thee bravely.
Hoot owls through mantling fog for matin birds?
It lures not me.-I know thee well enough:
The bones of murder'd men thy measure beat,
And fleshless heads nod to thee-Off, I say!
Why are ye here ?-That is the blessed sun.
Elea. Ah, Orra! do not look upon us thus;
These are the voices of thy loving friends
That speak to thee; this is a friendly hand
That presses thine so kindly.
Oh, grievous state! what terror seizes thee?
Orra. Take it away! It was the swathed dead;
I know its clammy, chill, and bony touch.
Come not again; I'm strong and terrible now:
Mine eyes have look'd upon all dreadful things;
And when the earth yawns, and the hell-blast sounds,
I'll bide the trooping of unearthly steps,
With stiff, clench'd, terrible strength.
Hugh. A murd'rer is a guiltless wretch to me.
Hart. Be patient; 'tis a momentary pitch;
Let me encounter it.
Orra. Take off from me thy strangely-fasten'd eye;
I may not look upon thee-yet I must.
Unfix thy baleful glance. Art thou a snake?
Something of horrid power within thee dwells.
Still, still that powerful eye doth suck me in
Like a dark eddy to its wheeling core.
Spare me! O spare me, Being of strange power,
And at thy feet my subject head I'll lay.
Elea. Alas, the piteous sight! to see her thus,
The noble, generous, playful, stately Orra!
Theo. Out on thy hateful and ungenerous guile!
Think'st thou I'll suffer o'er her wretched state
The slightest shadow of a base control?
[Raising Orra from the ground.
No; rise, thou stately flower with rude blasts rent;
As honour'd art thou with thy broken stem
And leaflets strew'd, as in thy summer's pride.
I've seen thee worshipp'd like a regal Dame,
With every studied form of mark'd devotion,
Whilst I, in distant silence, scarcely proffer'd
Ev'n a plain soldier's courtesy; but now,
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