Sam. But ours is with thee; we will bear ye far

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To some untroubled star, Where thou, and Anah, shalt partake our lot :

And if thou dost not weep for thy lost earth,

Our forfeit heaven shall also be forgot. Anah. Oh! my dear father's tents, my place of birth,

And mountains, land, and woods! when ye are not,

Who shall dry up my tears?

Aza. Thy spirit-lord. Fear not; though we are shut from heaven, Yet much is ours, whence we cannot be driven.

Raph. Rebel! thy words are wicked, as thy deeds

While others, fix'd as rocks, await the word At which their wrathful vials shall be pour'd.

No azure more shall robe the firmament, Nor spangled stars be glorious: Death hath risen:

In the sun's place a pale and ghastly glare Hath wound itself around the dying air.

Aza. Come, Anah! quit this chaosfounded prison,

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To which the elements again repair,
To turn it into what it was: beneath
The shelter of these wings thou shalt be safe,
As was the eagle's nestling once within
Its mother's. Let the coming chaos chafe
With all its elements! Heed not their din !
A brighter world than this, where thou
shalt breathe

Ethereal life, will we explore:

These darken'd clouds are not the only skies.

[AZAZIEL and SAMIASA fly off, and disappear with ANAH and AHOLIBAMAH.

Japh. They are gone! They have disappear'd amidst the roar

Of the forsaken world; and never more,
Whether they live, or die with all earth's life,
Now near its last, can aught restore
Anah unto these eyes.

Chorus of Mortals.

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WERNER;

OR, THE INHERITANCE

A TRAGEDY

ΤΟ

THE ILLUSTRIOUS GOETHE,

BY ONE OF HIS HUMBLEST ADMIRERS, THIS TRAGEDY IS DEDICATED.

PREFACE

The following drama is taken entirely from the German's Tale, Kruitzner, published many years ago in Lee's Canterbury Tales; written (I believe) by two sisters, of whom one furnished only this story and another, both of which are considered superior to the remainder of the collection. I have adopted the characters, plan, and even the language, of many parts of this story. Some of the characters are modified or altered, a few of the names changed, and one character (Ida of Stralenheim) added by myself; but in the rest the original is chiefly followed. When I was young (about fourteen, I think) I first read this tale, which made a deep impression upon me; and may, indeed, be said to contain the germ of much that I have since written. I am not sure that it ever was very popular; or, at any rate, its popularity has since been eclipsed by that of other great writers in the same department. But I have generally found that those who had read it, agreed with me in their estimate of the singular power of mind and conception which it develops. I should also add conception, rather than execution; for the story might, perhaps, have been developed with greater advantage. Amongst those whose opinions agreed with mine upon this story, I could mention some very high names: but it is not necessary, nor indeed of any use; for every one must judge according to his own feelings. I merely refer the reader to the original story, that he may see to what extent I have borrowed from it; and am not unwilling that he should find much greater pleasure in perusing it than the drama which is founded upon its contents.

I had begun a drama upon this tale so far back as 1815 (the first I ever attempted, except one at thirteen years old, called Ulric and Ilvina, which I had sense enough to burn), and had nearly completed an act, when I was interrupted by circumstances. This is somewhere amongst my papers in England; but as it has not been found, I have rewritten the first, and added the subsequent acts.

The whole is neither intended, nor in any shape adapted, for the stage. PISA, February, 1822.

Left the path open, yet not without snares. This cold and creeping kinsman, who so long

Kept his eye on me, as the snake upon The fluttering bird, hath ere this time outstept me,

Become the master of my rights, and lord Of that which lifts him up to princes in Dominion and domain.

Jos.
Who knows? our son
May have return'd back to his grandsire, and
Even now uphold thy rights for thee?
Wer.
"T is hopeless. 90
Since his strange disappearance from my
father's,

Entailing, as it were, my sins upon
Himself, no tidings have reveal'd his course.
I parted with him to his grandsire, on
The promise that his anger would stop short
Of the third generation; but Heaven seems
To claim her stern prerogative, and visit
Upon my boy his father's faults and follies.
Jos. I must hope better still, at least

we have yet