Billeder på siden

mourning for the dead. Bent is his head of age, and red his tearful eye.-Alpin, thou fon of fong, why alone on the filent hill? Why complaineft thou, as a blast in the wood-as a wave on the lonely shore ?


My tears, O Reyno ! are for the dead-my voice for the inhabitants of the grave.-Tall thou art on the hill -fair among the fons of the plain. But thou fhalt fall, like Morar ; and the mourner fhall fit on thy tomb. The hills fhall know thee no more. Thy bow fhall lie in the hall, unftrung.-Thou wert fwift, O Morar! as a roe on the hill- -terrible as a meteor of fire.-Thy

wrath was as the ftorm-thy fword, in battle, as lightning in the field. Thy voice was like a ftream after rain-like thunder on diftant hills. Many fell by thy. arm-they were confumed in the flames of thy wrath.

[ocr errors]

-But, when thou didst return from war, how peaceful was thy brow! Thy face was like the fun after rainlike the moon in the filence of night-calm as the breast of the lake, when the loud wind is hushed into a calm.

Narrow is thy dwelling now-dark the place of thine abode. With three fteps I compafs thy grave, O thou, who waft so great before! Four ftones, with their heads of mofs. are the only memorial of thee. A tree with fcarce a leaf-long grafs, whiftling in the windmark to the hunter's eye, the grave of the mighty Morar.

-Morar! thou art low indeed: thou haft no mother to mourn thee; no maid with her tears of love: dead is she that brought thee forth; fallen is the daughter of Morglan.Who, on his staff, is this? who this, whofe head is white with age, whofe eyes are galled with tears, who quakes at every step It is thy father, O ?; Morar! The father of no fon, but thee.Weep, thou


father of Morar! weep; but thy fon heareth thee not. Deep is the fleep of the dead-low their pillow of duft. No more fha!! he hear thy voice-no more awake at thy call. When fhall it be morn in the grave, to bid the flumberer awake?-Farewell! thou braveft of men; thou conqueror in the field but the field fhall fee thee no more; nor the gloomy wood be lightened with the fplendor of thy fteel.left no fon-but

Thou haft

the fong fhall preserve thy name.




EAN while, the adverfary of God and man,

Maan, with thoughts inflam'd of higheft defign,

Puts on fwift wings, and, towards the gates of hell,
Explores his folitary flight. Sometimes,

He fcours the right hand coaft; fometimes, the left:
Now, fhaves, with level wing, the deep; then, foars
Up to the fiery concave. At laft, appear

Hell bounds, high reaching to the horrid roof.

Thrice threefold were the gates: three folds were brass ; Three iron; three of adamantine rock :

Impenetrable; impal'd with circling fire;

Yet unconfum'd. Before the gates, there fat,
On either fide, a formidable shape.

The one, feem'd woman to the waift, and fair:
But ended foul in many a scaly fold


Voluminous and vaft; a ferpent, arm'd
With mortal fting. The other shape

(If fhape it might be call'd, that shape had none
Diftinguishable, in member, joint, or limb;

Or fubftance might be call'd, that shadow seem'd ;
For each feem'd either)-black it ftood, as night;
Fierce, as ten furies; terrible, as hell;

And shook a dreadful dart. What feem'd his head,
The likeness of a kingly crown had on.

Satan was, now, at hand; and, from his feat,
The monfter, moving onward, came as faft,
With horrid ftrides: hell trembled as he ftrode.
Th' undaunted fiend, what this might be admir'd;
And, with difdainful look, thus first began.

"WHENCE, and what art thou, execrable shape!
That dar', though grim and terrible, advance
Thy mifcreated front athwart my way

To yonder gates? Through them I mean to pass,
That be affur'd, without leave afk'd of thee.
Retire- or tafte thy folly; and learn, by proof,
Hell-born! not to contend with fpirits of heaven."
To whom the goblin, full of wrath, reply'd.
"Art thou that traitor angel, art thou he,
Who first broke peace in heav'n, and faith, till then
Unbroken; and, in proud rebellious arms,
Drew after him the third part of heav'ns fons;
Conjur'd against the Higheft; for which, both thou
And they, outcaft from God, are here condemn'd
To wafte eternal days in woe and pain?
And reckon'st thou thyself with spirits of heaven,
Hell-doom'd; and breath'ft defiance here, and fcorn,
Where I reign king? and, to enrage thee more,
Thy king and lord ?-Back to thy punishment,


Falfe fugitive and, to thy speed, add wings;
Left, with a whip of fcorpions, I pursue

Thy ling'ring; or, with one ftroke of this dart,
Strange horror feize thee, and pangs unfelt before.”

So fpake the grifly terror; and, in fhape,
So fpeaking, and fo threat'ning, grew tenfold.
More dreadful and deform. On th' other fide,

Incens'd with indignation, Satan ftood,
Unterrify'd and, like a comet, burn'd.

So frown'd the might combatants, that hell

Grew darker at their frown.-And, now, great deeds Had been achiev'd, whereof all hell had rung,

Had not the fnaky forcerefs, that fat

Faft by hell-gate, and kept the fatal key,
Ris'n, and, with hideous outcry, rush'd between.
"Ofather! what intends thy hand (the cry'd)
Against thy only fon? What fury, O son,
Poffeffes thee, to bend that mortal dart

Against thy father's head? and know'ft for whom
For him, who fits above, and laughs the while,
At thee, ordain'd his drudge, to execute
Whate'er his wrath, which he calls juftice, bids:
His wrath; which, one day, will deftroy ye both."

SHE fpake: and thus, to her, Satan return'd.
"So ftrange thy outcry, and thy words fo ftrange.
Thou interpofeft, that my fudden hand,
Prevented, spares to tell thee, yet, by deeds,
What it intends; till, firft, I know of thee,
What thing thou art, thus double-form'd; and why,
In this infernal vale firft met, thou callst

Me father, and that phantafm call'ft my fon.
I know thee not; nor ever faw, till now,
Sight more deteftable than him and thee.”


To whom thus the portrefs of hell-gate reply'd,
"Haft thou forgot me, then? and do I feem,
Now, in thine eyes, fo foul? once deem'd fo fair
In heav'n, when, at th' affembly, and, in fight
Of all the Seraphim with thee combin'd,
Likeft to thee in fhape and count'nance bright,
Then fhining heav'nly fair, a goddess arm'd,
Out of thy head I sprung ?-
Amazement feiz'd

All the hoft of heav'n. Back they recoil'd, afraid
At first, and call'd me Sin; and, for a fign
Portentous, held me. Mean while, war arofe,
And fields were fought in heav'n; wherein remain'd
(For what could elfe?) to our almighty foe,
Clear victory; to our part, lofs and rout,
Through all the empyrean. Down they fell.
Driv'n headlong from the pitch of heaven, down'
Into this deep; and, in the general fall,

I alfo at which time, this pow'rful key


Into my hand was giv'n, with charge to keep
Thefe gates for ever fhut, which none can pafs
Without my opening. In oppofition fits
Grim Death, my fon' and foe, begot by thee;
Who me, his parent," would full foon devourj
For want of other prey, but that he knows
His end with mine involv'd; and knows, that I
Should prove a bitter morfel, and his bane.
But thou, O father! I forewarn thee, fhun
His deadly arrow neither vainly hope
To be invulnerable in those bright arms,
Though temper'd heav'nly; for that mortal dart,
Save he who reigns above, none can refist."

SHE finish'd, and the fubtle fiend his lore Soon learn'd, now milder; and thus answer'd smooth.


« ForrigeFortsæt »