 | Mansoul or The Riddle of the World |  |
PRIEST
What souls be ye, that óf yourselves remove,
Yet living flesh, in ghostly Underworld?
Which neither wafted were, o'er sacred flood;
Nor laid on sleep, with pompous funerals!
How demon-guarded precincts míght ye pass;
And seven strong circuits, óf swart Gods of Death?
Yet living flesh, in ghostly Underworld?
Which neither wafted were, o'er sacred flood;
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How demon-guarded precincts míght ye pass;
And seven strong circuits, óf swart Gods of Death?
What tidings bruited were, in Wórld above,
When ye descended? Shineth yet Father Sun,
And wayward Moon, from Pinnacles of high Heaven?
I do record me, whát night I slept forth:
Invading impious arms had dispossessed
Our Lord: and wás his divíne Throne, downcást;
Whereon, great Kings-of-men, had Pharaohs sate;
Through un-númbered cycles óf returníng years;
Graven ón the monuménts, of the great Sun-God.
I also at Ons high altar, fell down slain.
When ye descended? Shineth yet Father Sun,
And wayward Moon, from Pinnacles of high Heaven?
I do record me, whát night I slept forth:
Invading impious arms had dispossessed
Our Lord: and wás his divíne Throne, downcást;
Whereon, great Kings-of-men, had Pharaohs sate;
Through un-númbered cycles óf returníng years;
Graven ón the monuménts, of the great Sun-God.
I also at Ons high altar, fell down slain.
| Mansoul or The Riddle of the World | |