The ravening beasts have laid their fawning heads In love upon the lap of him whom man Had cast them for their prey: and fires have burn'd, Unharming, like the glory of a star, Round the pale brows of maidens ; and the chains Have dropt, like wither'd flax, from the gall'd limbs; And whom the infuriate people led to death, They have fallen down, and worshipp'd as a deity. But thou hast sent a kindlier boon to me, A soft prophetic peace, that soothes my soul, Like music, to an heavenly harmony. For in my slumber a bright being came, And with faint steps my father follow'd him Up through the argent fields, and there we Like the soft dews of evening, are drawn up To heaven, but not to fall and taint themselves With earth again? My inmost soul last night Was wrung to think of our eternal parting; But now my voice may tremble while I say, God's will be done!" yet I have strength to say it. But thou, oh Morn! the last that e'er Through earthly mists on my sad eyes And beautiful even here, and fragrant Mother of gentle airs and blushing hues! That bearest, too, in thy fair hand, the key To which the harmonious gates of Paradise Unfold;-bright opening of immortal day! That ne'er shall know a setting, but shalt shine Bound me for ever on the crystal floors Where Blessed Spirits tread. My bridal morn, In which my soul is wedded to its Lord, And my locks bloom once more with flowers that fade. But I must haste, I hear the trumpet's voice. Acclaiming thousands answer-yet I fear not. O Lord support me, and I shall not fear! But hark! the maidens are abroad to hail Their God; we answer through our prison grates. Hark! Then follows a lyrical piece, which our readers will probably agree with us in thinking too artificially got up and arranged. It is nevertheless a splendid passage. Chorus of Heathen Maidens. Now glory to the God, who breaks, The monarch of the realms on high; Pant, while he springs upon his way, The beardless youth divine, who bathes the world in day. Chorus of Christians (from the Prison.) Now glory to the God, whose throne, Far from this world obscure and dim, Holds its eternal state alone Beyond the flight of Seraphim: The God, whose one omnific word Yon orb of flame obedient heard, And from the abyss in fulness sprang, While all the blazing heavens with shouts of triumphs rang. Heathens. Now glory to the God that still Through the pale Signs his car hath roll'd, Nor aught but his imperious will E'er those rebellious steeds controll'd. Nor ever from the birth of time Ceased he from forth the Eastern clime, Heaven's loftiest steep his way to make To where his flaming wheels the Hesperian waters slake, Christians. Now glory to the God that laid The master-call the Sun obey'd, And forced his headlong steeds to stay, By night uncheck'd fierce Joshua's sword A double harvest reap'd of vengeance for the Lord. Heathens. Now glory to the God, whose blaze The scatter'd hosts of darkness fly; The stars before his conquering rays Yield the dominion of the sky; Chris. Now glory to the Lord, whose Consenting Nature shrinking saw; Withdrew into the depths of gloom; And wrapt the guilt-shak'n earth in deep untimely night. Heath. Now glory to the God, that wakes With vengeance in his fiery speed, To wreak his wrath impatient breaks On every guilty godless head; Hasty he mounts his early road, And pours his brightest beams abroad: And looks down fierce with jocund light To see his fane avenged, his vindicated rite. Chris. Now glory to the Christ, whose love Even now prepares our seats of rest, And in his golden courts above Enrolls us 'mid his chosen blest; Even now our martyr robes of light Are weaving of heaven's purest white; And we, before thy course is done, Shall shine more bright than thou, oh vainly-worshipp'd Sun! We shall conclude with a very long extract, being the whole of the last twenty pages of Mr Milman's volume. The reader is to understand that Olybius, the prefect, has entrusted the superintendance of the execution to Vopiscus, under the notion that Margarita's resolution would certainly fail when she came into the actual contact of mortal agony, and had witnessed the sufferings of her companions. Margarita, seized with a sudden transport of holy enthusiasm, strikes the strings of the sacred lyre of Apollo, and while all around are in hopes she has reverted to the religion of her temple, she sings as follows :— Mar. What means yon blaze on high? The empyrean sky I see the star-paved land, Even to the highest height in burning rows ascending. Some with their wings dispread, As on some mission of God's love de ears, Hath seem'd the concert sweet of the harmonious spheres. Still my rapt spirit mounts, And lo! beside the founts Of flowing light Christ's chosen Saints reclining; Distinct amid the blaze Their palm-crown'd heads they raise, Their white robes even through that o'erpowering lustre shining. Each in his place of state, Long the bright Twelve have sate, O'er the celestial Sion high uplifted; While those with deep prophetic raptures gifted, Where Life's glad river rolls its tideless streams, Enjoy the full completion of their heavenly dreams. Again I see again The great victorious train, The blood-red robes they wear Even their immortal limbs, the signs of wounds disclosing. Oh, holy Stephen! thou Art there, and on thy brow Hast still the placid smile it wore in dying, When under the heap'd stones in anguish lying Thy clasping hands were fondly spread to heaven, And thy last accents pray'd thy foes might be forgiven. Beyond! ah, who is there At the right hand of One, That sun-eyed seraph Host behold with O'er him the rainbow springs, Hark-thunders from his throne, like The Christ! the Christ commands us to his home! Jesus, Redeemer, Lord, we come, we come, we come! 2 M I do remember, when thy mother pass'd The victims, each to his appointed place. The Lord Almighty doth but take the mortal life he giveth. Glory! Glory! Glory! the Lord Almighty reigneth, He who forfeits earthly life, a life celestial gaineth. Cal. Why do ye hold me back?-My child! they bind me Apollo triumphs! Call. Thou sayst not so, she will not sacrifice My child! I look'd not yet for this. What's here? The above. Charinus. Call. Back, thou foul wretch! I rush'd not forth to thee. Char. Foul wretch, indeed! I have forThe blinding flames scorch'd up into mine sworn my God. eyes; And the false devils murmur'd all around me Soft sounds of water. Olyb. On to the altar! Hurry him away! The Multitude. Io! Io Pæan! Io Triumphe! Char. Hah! they point at me, The angels from the clouds, my blissful brethren, That mount in radiance: ere they're lost in light, With sad, and solemn, and reproachful voices They call me Judas-Judas, that betray'd, That murder'd his blest master-and himself Accurst of men and outcast from thy fold, Oh Christ! and for my pride? why then I'll wrap Give him the knife of sacrifice. Char. Now Down! Down! 'Tis wet, and reeks with my Redeemer's blood. Officer. He's fled. Olyb. Officer. Call. Dead! she is not dead! Thou liest! I have his oath, the Prefect's oath; I had forgot it in my fears, but now Go after--drag him back. Faugh! who will trust in Gods and men 'Tis vain. He cried aloud-"The devil hath wrestled like these? Olyb. Slave! Slave! dost mock me? Better 'twere for thee And vanquish'd!"—and he plunged the That this be false, than if thou'dst found with me, sacred knife |
