For I have cherished them as dear, The river nobly foams and flows, Could thy dear eyes in following mine Still sweeten more these banks of Rhine! THE DREAM OF SARDANAPALUS. Sar. (awaking) Not so-although ye multiplied And gave them to me as a realm to share [the stars, From you and with you! I would not so purchase The empire of eternity: Hence—henceOld hunter of the earliest brutes! and ye, Who hunted fellow-creatures as if brutes! Once bloody mortals-and now bloodier idols, If your priests lie not! And thou, ghastly beldame! Dripping with dusky gore, and trampling on The carcases of Inde-away! away! Where am I? Where the spectres? Where-NoIs no false phantom: I should know it 'midst [that All that the dead dare gloomily raise up From their black gulf to daunt the living! Myrrha ! Myr. Alas! thou art pale, and on thy brow the drops Gather like night dew. My beloved, hush Calm thee. Thy speech seems of another world, All will go well. Thy hand-so-'tis thy hand; At least know me 'Tis flesh; grasp-clasp-yet closer, still I feel Myself that which I was. Myr. For what I am, and ever must be-thine. Sar. I know it now. I know this life again. Ah, Myrrha! I have been where we shall be. Myr. My lord! Sar. I've been i' the grave-where worms are lords, Sleep shows such things, what may not death disclose? Myr. I know no evil death can show, which life A shore, where mind survives, 'twill be as mind, A shadow of this cumbrous clog of clay, Which stalks, methinks, between our souls and heaven, And fetters us to earth-at least the phantom, Whate'er it have to fear, will not fear death. Sar. I fear it not; but I have felt-have seenA legion of the dead. Myr. And so have I. The dust we tread upon was once alive, And wretched. But proceed: what hast thou seen? Speak it, 'twill lighten thy dimmed mind. Sar. Methought Myr. Yet pause, thou art tired-in pain-exhausted; all Which can impair both strength and spirit: seek Sar. Not now I would not Dream; though I know it now to be a dream What I have dreamt :-and canst thou bear to hear it? Sar. And this look'd real, I tell you: after that these eyes were open, Sar. I saw, that is, I dream'd myself Here-here-even where we are, guests as we were, Myself a host that deem'd himself but guest, Willing to equal all in social freedom; But on my right hand and my left, instead Of thee and Zames, and our custom'd meeting, Was ranged on my left hand a haughty, dark, And deadly face. I could not recognize it, Yet I had seen it, though I knew not where; The features were a giant's, and the eye Was still, yet lighted; his long locks curl'd down On his vast bust, whence a huge quiver rose With shaft-heads feather'd from the eagle's wing, That peep'd up bristling through his serpent hair. I invited him to fill the cup which stood Between us, but he answer'd not—I fill'd it— He took it not, but stared upon me, till I trembled at the fixed glare of his eye: I frown'd upon him as a king should frown- Myr. [He pauses. What instead? Sar. In thine own chair-thine own place in the banquet, I sought thy sweet face in the circle-but Myr. Sar. Is this all? Upon Her right hand her lank, bird-like right-hand-stood Myr. And felt you not this a mere vision? No: And life in me: there was a horrid kind From heaven or earth-and rather let me see Myr. And the end? Sar. At last I sate marble, as they, when rose The hunter, and the crew; and smiling on meYes, the enlarged but noble aspect of The hunter smiled upon me-I should say, Sar. |