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The thought which is within me and around me,
I do compel ye to my will.—Appear!

(A star is seen at the darker end of the gallery; it is
stationary; and a voice is heard singing. J


Mortal! to thy bidding bow'd,
From my mansion in the cloud,
Which the breath of twilight builds,
And the summer's sun-set gilds
With the azure and vermilion
Which is mix'd for my pavilion;
Though thy quest may be forbidden,
On a star-beam I have ridden;
To thine adjuration bow'd,
Mortal—be thy wish avow'd!

Voice of the Second Spirit.

Mont Blanc is the monarch of mountains,

They crowned him long ago
On a throne of rocks, in a robe of clouds,

With a diadem of snow.
Around his waist are forests braced,

The avalanche in his hand;
But ere it fall, that thundering ball

Must pause for my command.
The glacier's cold and restless mass

Moves onward day by day;
But I am he who bids it pass,

Or with its ice delay.
I am the spirit of the place,

Could make the mountain bow
And quiver to his cavern'd base—

Aud what with me would'st Thou?

Voice of the Third Spirit.

In the blue depth of the waters,

Where the wave hath no Mrife, Where the wind is a stranger,

And the sea-snake hath life, Where the mermaid is decking

Her green hair with shells, Like the storm on the surface

Came the sound of thy spells; O'er my calm hall of coral

The deep echo roll'd:

To the spirit of Ocean

Thy wishes unfold!


Where the slumbering earthquake

Lies pillow'd on fire, And the lakes of bitumen

Rise boilingly higher; Where the roots of the Ancles

Strike deep in the earth,
As their summits to heaven

Shoot soaringly forth;
I have quitted my birth-place,

Thy bidding to bide—
Thy spell hath subdued me,

Thy will be my guide I


I am the rider of the wind,
The stirrer of the sterm;

The hurricane I left behind
Is yet with lightning warm;

To speed to thee, o'er shore and sea
I swept upon the blast:

The fleet I met sailed well, and yet
'Twill sink ere night be past.

Sixth Spirit.

My dwelling is the shadow of the night, Why doth thy magic torture me with light?


The star which rules thy destiny, Was ruled, ere earth began, by me: It was a world as fresh and fair As e'er revolved round sun'in air; Its course was free and regular, Space bosom'd not a lovelier star. The hour arrived—and it became A wandering mass of shapeless flame, A pathless comet, and a curse, The menace of the universe; Still rolling on with innate force, Without a sphere, without a course, A bright deformity on high, The monster of the upper sky! And thou, beneath its influence born—Thou worm! whom I obey and scornForced by a power ( which is not thine, And lent thee but to make thee mine ) For this brief moment to descend, Where these weak spirits round thee bend And parley with a thing like thee— What would'st thou, Child of Clay! with me?

**** a


Earth, ocean, air, uight, mountains, winds, thy star, Are at thy beck and bidding, Child of Clay'

Before thee at thy quest their spirits are—

What would'st thou with us, son of mortals—say?




Of what—of.whom—and why?


Of that which is within me; read it there—
Ye know it, and I cannot utter it.


We can but give thee that which -we possess:
Ask of us subjects, sovereignty, the power
O'er earth, the whole, or portion, or a sign
Which shall control the elements, whereof
We are the dominators, each and all,
These shall be thine.


Oblivion, self-oblivion—
Can ye not wring from out the hidden realms
Ye offer so profusely what I ask?


It is not in our essence, in our skill;
But—thou may'st die.


Will Death bestow it on me?


We are immortal, and do not forge;
We are eternal; and to us the past
Is, as the future, present. Art thou answered?


Ye mock me—*-tut the power which brought ye here'
Hath made you mine. Slaves, scofFnot at my will!
The mind, the spirit, the Promethean spark,
The lightning of my being, is as bright,
Pervading, and far-darting as your own,
And shall not yield to yours, though coop'd in clay!
Answer, or I will teach ye what I am.


We answer as we answered ; our reply
Is even in thine own words.


Why say ye so?

If, as thou say'st, thine essence be as ours,
We have replied in telling thee, the thing
Mortals call Death hath nought to do with us.


I then have call'd ye from your realms in vain;
Ye cannot, or ye will not, aid me.



What we possess we offer; it is thine:
Bethink ere thou dismiss us; ask again—
Kingdom, and sway, and strength, and length of days—-

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