University of Virginia Library

The frosted Sun, half shaded by a cloud,
Set like a crescent, during harvest time;
Red as a bloody banner in the air.
—Zateel and Hori stood alone, within
The Vale of Abel's Sacrifice, and Death.

‘Here are the altars, Hori,’ said Zateel:
And Hori, pensive, murmured, ‘Which is Abel's?’

‘This,’ he replied;—‘by memory arboured round
With flowers; but now they all are dead, as he
For whom love planted them.’

Both, pausing, mused;
But Hori spake at last. ‘It is the season,
And suits my mood, Zateel. More rude was Cain
Than winter. Wherefore smote he, like a blast,
The lovely and the loving?’

Sadly looked
Zateel, while thus he answered: ‘Cain was tempted.
Wisdom had left him; but his Fury came
To Cain, deep musing, and dissatisfied
With toil, with sickness, and with threatened death.
The Tempter came; and both high commune held
On good, and evil; freedom, and fixed fate;
God, and creation; man, and his dominion;
The heavens, and this dim earth. Spiritual Law
With Nature strove; and, with creative force,
Resurgent from the human soul, wrought out
The form desired, from quarry, newly bewn,
Of the material elements around,
And in the very flesh—the heart—of man.
Hence labour, and hence pain: and much of both,
By circumstantial evil, is required
For its removal; but far more the flesh
Demands, for that in it the spirit lives,
And works, and by it, and a law creates
Against its own, in organ sensuous,
Which, but for spiritual influence, were as none,
Blind, tasteless, deaf, intactual, nor of smell
Sagacious. Of this double task, had Cain
Toil so extreme in conquering the first,
(Else flesh had wanted life) that, in his person,
The harder labour had not time to prosper.’

Whereto thus Hori, low of tone, and mild:
‘But God, Zateel, had of the better law
Provided him a witness, in a Brother.
In concert, would together both had worked,
Mutual defect had mutual been supplied,
And unreluctant Abel—’

Suddenly
Zateel drew up, exclaiming: ‘Son of Abel:
Nature is proud of her priority.
The spiritual but succeeds her; and she scorns
To yield to second comer; nor e'er yet
Submitted, Hori, without agony.
This I have felt, and so may testify.
Nor would his natural delights man yield,
But that short of the infinite they fall,
(Whereto the senses would their organs task,
Being spiritual,) and so of happiness,
(Which must for infinite capacity
Be infinite, or fail to satisfy,)
And soon expire in pain Him to redeem
From their indulgence, fatal even to death;
By labour God suspended it, and raised
Man to exert high faculty of skill,
To vanquish Nature in the outer world,
And inner.’

Hori, thus reproved, more meek
Responded: ‘O'er the outer world, as first,
Was Cain appointed victor, blessed to eat
Bread by his brow's sweat; and to Abel was,
As second, given that inner world to rule.
But aye the sensual is averse from toil,
Moral, or carnal; yet would be divine,
In knowledge absolute, obtained by theft,
Not earned; and, stretching beyond bounds desire,
Leaps the abyss of space; and what finds there?’

Whereto Zateel replied, in kindlier tone:
‘Ay, Hori; what, indeed, but utter Chaos?
O Reason's self oft wanders there unwise.
And thither led the Fiend the First-born Man;
Beyond the habitable world, into
The Abyss of Space; there, with one sudden flight,
To learn at once the story of all worlds,
Past, present, and to come, and of them ask
Questions that might experience supersede,
And please imagination indolent,
With phantasms, and vagaries; to the realms,
Anon, of Death arriving, Space surpassed,
And Hades entered, yet at length to earth
Returning, all as ignorant as before.
—So, much perplexed and maddened, Cain came back,
Wearied with speculation, uninformed,
And troubled with the Mystery of Blood;
But, in his phrenzy, shedding what he loathed,
Giving to God the victim he misdeemed
Wroth Heaven of Earth demanded.’

To such words
Hori these gravely added: ‘Still the race
Of Cain present in worship but earth's fruits,
And shudder at the life-blood, which the seed
Of Abel offer.’

Meditative, then,
Zateel spake, mildly: ‘To the sense still chained,
The race of Cain, though grown in diligence,
Read no high meaning in the life of man,
No revelation in the sealèd book,
Which God has written in the things he made.
The stars to them, indeed, a language speak
For seasons, and for years; but not as signs.
Good workmen are they; and, with cunning hand,
Controul material substance, and employ
In uses, worthy deemed. Even thus instruct
Fathers their sons; but unintelligent
Of scientific principle, and rule,
And only careful of the body's good.
Hence, Cain could understand not, in the blood,
Aught more than victim slain to Wrath Divine;
Not that the merely animal was doomed,
For man's perfection, to be sacrificed;
And carnal death despised, so that the soul
Be quickened, rising glorious from the grave
Of mortifièd flesh.’

While Hori listened,
His brow grew heavy with the weight of thought,
Which found in these relief:—‘And Abel's blood,
Zateel, thus shed, reveals an earnest truth;
That he who would redemption for himself,
Or for his race, accomplish, must be brave,
In patience to endure the deadly hate
Of man, from nature undelivered yet;
Content, if so salvation come, to be,
First, an Ensample; next, a Sacrifice.’

Thus moralized the friendly pair: then home,
By the moon's light, returned; for now the stars
With chilling influence smote. When Hori next
The Vale of righteous Abel visited,
He was alone, and summer had restored
The grave-flowers all their bloom, a beauteous shew:
But not to Hori beauteous; for his heart
Was broken with affliction. Vain all signs
Unto the Cainite; still, with mortal rage,
He followed up his victory, and claimed,
From their retreats, the captives as his slaves.
And Hori thus was seized, and to the will
Of tyrant was subdued. His free-born soul
Revolted, and then drooped, deprived of life,
Of moral life, and motive power of act;
To every influence of joy, and pain,
As bards are ever, all too sensitive.
Thus, in the morning, odours from afar
Attract the Bee, and, in the eve, or ere
The storm come on, the absence of the sun
Chills back the busy creature to her hive—
Like her, much store of honey, and of wax
He gathered, and laid up on his return . .
A mental treasure. Now his work is wrought.
So the poor Bee, of her antennæ shorn,
The instruments, with which she once received
Effluvial motion, broken, and destroyed;
The spell of her activity is dead,
Contrivance, wisdom, ingenuity—
Stupid, and helpless; torpid, and effete;
Order, subordination, loyalty,
Thrift, occupation, all are over now,
Wanderer forlorn, and isolate, and dull:
Such Hori was; and, in the populous world
A stranger grown, he had no interest there.

Scaped from despotic vigilance, he came,
One summer's day, into the Vale of Death;
And laid him down upon a sunny bank,
And looked into the heaven's unclouded blue,
As his blue eye might blend therein, or that
Melt down into his visionary soul.
Thus he, in silence, and in solitude,
Gazing reposed; nor moved, when night came on,
Nor when the day returned; and, day by day,
And night by night, unmindful of the claims
Of hunger or of thirst, into the face
Of daylit sky or starry, upward still
Looked patient, like a prisoner supine,
Chained to a hill side, doomed to lonely death.
—By chance, Zateel there wandered; led, one eve,
By tender memory, to the sacred spot;
And there beheld him in the loveliness,
And resignation of his lifeless brow.
High meditation in the glazèd eye,
His gifted vision read; and then, aloud,
He prayed the Shepherd, by the flocks he knew,
The pastures, and the rivers that he loved,
The green hills, and the quiet of the heavens,
To wake from that deep sleep. Soon, on his soul
Came twilight, and a haunted gloominess;
And murmurs, and dim sounds of shrieks, and sighs;
And shapes, as in a dream, were struggling there,
Pale even to polished whiteness, terrible.
—Was it a dream? Lo, on the outlined air,
Michael appeared; and, with angelic hand,
Blessed the belovèd Dead on whom he gazed.

‘Thrice blessèd be the sufferer, set now
From the oppressor free.’

Thus Michael said.
But then, as with strange power, permitted him
Since that disastrous night, Azaziel smote
The extended benediction, and uptowered,
With all a victor's insolence, above
The Seraph of the sky.

‘Bless not whom God
Hath cursed; whom, for the guilty, he hath made
A curse. Curse whom he dooms—the innocent,
Successive victims to atone his wrath,
Until One die for All.’

This to his knee
Brought down the faithful Guardian. Not to him,
But to his God he prayed; and short is now
The demon's triumph. Fallen on earth's face,
Elihu's presence he confessed; who thus,
As on a cloud supported, eloquent,
Bent the right hand of his extended arm
In action of command; and, with the left,
Appointed him his place of prostrate shame.
‘From Abel's blood to that last Sacrifice,’
Exclaimed he, ‘Man must answer. God demands
No victims to his wrath; but man doth make
His prophets martyrs, sent in love to man,
That he might hear, and live.’

This heard Zateel—
On one knee kneeling, one hand on his heart,
One high in air; thus, with the gaze he looked
Of him who sees a vision, wonder-rapt,
Entranced in ecstasy, possessed, inspired.

Need for high faith had sorrowing Zateel.
To him had Hori been, as once himself
To Samiasa; but the loss he felt,
Was for the Shepherd keener than the King:
For Love descends more easily than soars.
But now a void was left which Zerah might
Even fill not in his mind. Not seldom too,
The monarch's mystic destiny awoke
Inquiry, to be satisfied ere long.

By sea, and shore, the Sophist, and the King
Held on their way; until their wandering steps,
Dudael, once again thy lonely waste
Trod, not unknown. New wonder waits them there;
For, fearless of the sands, behold, afar,
Two Pilgrims of the Wild, yet not on foot,
But mounted, as in triumph, on white steeds.
On still they came; and, round about them, thronged,
As by their presence charmed, the desart-beasts.
—There were the Lion, and his Prey; as though
For them they had the ready hunters been,
And for his young provided, with consent
Right leonine—his young, couchant in dens,
Lying in wait, else hid in covert glades.
—The Raven, satisfied, as if his brood
Cried not to God, nor needed, hovered there.
—Peculiar kind, and tallest of the race,
The mighty Ostrich; large, inapt for flight,
Upon her wings; but, powerful of leg,
God gave her swiftness, and unrivalled speed,
That dares the horse, and rider to pursue;
Now fleeing not, she swells the lordly train.
—Patient of desert thirst, the Camel-Bird;
With Cassowary, Rhea, and Emeu;
The Dodo, and the Bustard—giants all,
Yet gentle; iron eaters, not without
Heart for their offspring, watching o'er their eggs,
Laid in the torrid sands, solicitous
With circling flight, or sitting o'er the pit
Which serves them for a nest in cooler climes.
—There were the mountain Goat, and forest Hind,
Whose many moons none knows; they bow themselves,
Bring forth their young, and cast their sorrows out;
Hale are their young, nor need be fed of corn,
Forsaking once their dam, returning never.
—There also the free Pard, whose bands none brake;
Whom, in the wilderness, God gave to house,
And make his dwelling in the barren land:
Afar he sees, and scorns the city throng,
And disregards the crying of the driver;
In purest air, his mountain pasture ranging,
And of his verdant feast in joy partaking.
—There was the Unicorn obedient. Who
Beheld him then, might deem, that he would stand
Beside thy crib, and live upon thine alms,
Bow to thy yoke his shoulder, and for thee
Harrow the vale, or in the furrow plough.
Yet trust not him, for he is strong, nor leave
To him thy labour, doubting not but he
Thy seed will sure bring home, and heap thy barn.
—There came Behemoth: he, whom God did make
Docile, though mighty; eating of the grass,
Ox-like; but with superiour force, and power
Embedded in his navel, and his loins.
No more is seen Behemoth now: . . but, then,
In motion like a cedar was his tail;
His sinews wrapt the shelly substance up;
Even as strong bars, his ribs; and, like strong bars
Of iron, were his bones; chief work of God.
Not him might man, but God, pierce through, and wound.
Mountains, where beasts play wild, to him gave food;
Trees shadowed his repose, in covert hid
Of reeds, and fens; the willows of the brook
Compassed his cool retreat. Was he athirst?
He drank a river, persevering slow,
As Armon might be drawn into his mouth,
So fixed his eyes upon the lessening stream,
While his strong snout brake way through every snare.

The Mastodon, provided with huge teeth
And tusks of ivory, in the incisive bone
Inserted, thick of limb, and with a trunk
Graced like the elephant, rival in height,
Of length exceeding his, herbivorous brute,
Succeeded. Others smaller; and with them
The Mammoth, mighty of bone, and short of neck,
Horrent with mane, and hornèd from the jaw,
Also with tusks, but doubly curved. The Sloth,
The Ai, tree-climber, with reverted look,
While travelling along the line of branch,
Gazing at the observer from below;
The Megalonyx, monstrous brute, of claw
Immense, thrice lion size; were there. Nor there
Wanting the Megatherium. Tardy of gait,
Brief-trunked, brief-tailed, and resting on its hand,
It walked, robust, yet feeding chief on roots,
And to its talons trusting for its food;
Enormous creature; elegant, and light
Of head, and neck; bulky its hinder parts.
—Tiger, and Wolf, with the voracious Bear,
Then tame, there herded gentle. Hunters them
Since seek in jungle, and den, both east, and north.
In thicket hid of wood, and grass, and rush,
The Tiger slinks; meanwhile, the sportsmen band,
Warned by the instinct of the Elephant,
Wake him to roaring, till he covert break;
Then furious war begins, nor peril free.
Lone with his females in tree-hollow, cave,
Or rocky cleft, the hybernating Bear
Immures lethargic: soon the hunter's skall
Them circles with a cordon populous—
Tracked in the snow their doubles, and ringed round
Miles in circumference, silently, with skill,
Till found their lair; attacked with men, and dogs,
Slain are they in their den; or, summer sport,
Roused out the furious brutes, noble sometimes,
With head erect, and spirit fiery,
As of the war-horse, dashing in full speed
At hunter, or at opening for escape,
Fain to take refuge soon in tangled brake;
Beset, and wheeling still from side to side,
They keep at bay pursuers, but at length
Fall dead with many wounds;—they, and their cubs.
So too in glen, the Wolf, sequestered, wild,
Rock-strewn, a craggy dell. A fiercer dog
Is he, and may be tamed; and, like a dog,
He winds his prey afar; yet them between
Is mutual enmity, and when they meet
Stern strife begins, but, in the end of such,
Difference ensues; . . the victor Wolf devours
His victim; but, not so, the nobler Dog
Leaveth untouched the carcase on the field.
The shades of evening set, forth prowls the Wolf,
Timid, yet strong, made but by hunger bold,
All things his prey, in wintery droves he scours,
Ferocious, hot for blood, from meanest thing
To that of man. Now, both with man, and brute,
In peaceful guise he comes, in order due;
Nor shuns man's friend, the Dog, nor seeks to slay.
—With him the simple Hare, Roebuck, and Fox;
Badger, and Stag; Rein-deer, and giant Elk;
In fellowship, together journey on.
Largest of Deer, the Elk, profusely horned,
Majestic creature: when incensed, his mane
Upbristles like the lion's. Graceful, too,
The Draught Deer, swift of foot: in after time,
Him shall the dweller of the realm of ice
Rein to his sledge, the slippery path along
Borne joyous rapid o'er the wild of snow.
The Stag how stately; of the woodlands king:
With beamy crown adorned his antlered head,
Agile of motion, beautiful in strength.
What anguish feels he in the cruel chase;
His eyes weep human tears, ere, panting, he
Resigns his towering front, and dappled skin
To the impatient pack. Of humbler shape,
The Badger's cutting bite frays off the hound.
—The Urus, elephantine in his bulk,
With a red eye, and fiery; thick, and short
Of horn, and neck; with curlèd hair o'erveiled
His forehead—shaggy maned. With these came on
The Lynx feline, meet cousin of the Wolf,
Now mild as he, with the Hyæna Dog,
And the Hyæna's self, the Tiger-Wolf:
Cruel, and fierce, by solitude made stern,
Of flocks, and herds rapacious . . hunger-mad,
Even new-closed graves he rifles for his food.
Now gentle as the gentle Pelican,
Which, with the Cormorant, no glutton now,
The Raven of the Sea, expands on high
His dusky wing; nor fears for lack of food,
His well-filled wallet hanging down his breast,
That with his bill he presses, when he would
Nourish his young in desart, or on isle,
Or feed his brooding female on the nest.
—There, too, the Vulture hovered; and the Roc,
Fabled, or true; . . big, strong, and wide of wing;
Ferocious Bird—but with the Puma, now,
Llama, and Calf, its wonted prey, at peace.
With these the Griffon, bearded or without,
Kite, Buzzard, Falcon. Prominent of brow,
Hook-beaked, the Falcon tribe, and their great strength
Is in their talons, curved, acute, and long;
Tenants of rock, and cliff, and mountain range.
Nor absent was the strong-beaked Vulture-King,
With ruff of ashy grey, and brightly plumed,
Carrion his food; or, wanting this, the Snake,
And Lizard are his meat. Lizard, and Snake
Are here: the Tortoise both of land, and sea,
And Salamander, in the cold, and damp
Rejoicing, with the Frog, and harmless Toad,
Oft musical, and laughing in the fens:
Beaver, and Otter, with the Serpent tribe,
Subtlest of beasts, quick—strong—voluminous,
Plated in mail, and loving best the storm,
The hurricane; rejoicing in uproar.
Python—keen-sighted, patient to restrain
Impulse, until secure to seize his prey;
Beautiful oft, and bright of hue, he lies
Beside the waters; of capacity
Goat, and Gazelle, even Tiger, to receive,
As raven for his maw; once by a god
Slain—great Apollo's shaft: the Boa huge,
That, with enormous folds, involves, and clasps,
And crushes soon the victim it absorbs:
The Rattle-snake, that warns ere it attacks,
Of man afraid, yet dangerous if disturbed:
Naja majestic, with a human face,
Glowing in coloured scales: Cerastes horned;
The agile Viper, elegant, and light,
Tinted, and lively, capable of love,
Of fond attachment, and familiar play
With childhood. Nor were wanting Insects there;
The Bee, and gaudy Butterfly, and Moth,
The humbler Fly, the Beetle, and the Gnat,
With the wise Ant, and irritable Wasp,
The Spider, and the Glow-worm, and all worms,
Not without mind, though creatures of small size,
And worthy their Creatour. Thronging there,
Attendant on those Pilgrim twain, they came,
By Samiasa, then, and Palal seen;
With wonder, and with awe not uninspired.

Attended thus, Ham, and Elihu rode:
Serene, Elihu; wonder-stricken, Ham.
As o'er the realm of life Elihu held
Sovran supremacy, and regal rule,
Like One, God made to be with glory crowned,
And set above his works, beneath his feet
All things disposed, in due subjection placed.
Him knew not Samiasa, but conceived
Some attribute divine incarnate in
That image of dominion, and, with knee
Low bent, shewed reverence; eftsoons, bid to rise,
Called by his name, he started at the sound,
But answered not, while on Elihu spake:

‘Discrownèd king, but new enthronèd man;
Here loiter not—the City named from thee
Thy presence needs, which yet 'twill fail to save.
What then? What is it to thee? His task to do
To man is given—the issues are with God.
Behold, I have endowed the Horse with strength,
Have girt his neck with thunder—and can shake
His courage, as he were a grasshopper.
Mount on his back, even thou, and Palal, too;
Palal, in whom faith buds not, though I quench
The glory of these nostrils terrible,
That he may ride in safety. Be it so.’

And as he spake, submiss two Steeds approached,
And pawed with pride the ground, and in their strength
Rejoiced; valiant, as if prepared to meet
Men armed for war, and making mock of fear:
Not them the sword would fright; 'gainst them in vain
Quiver would rattle, glitter spear, and shield.
In haste, then, on their shoulders sprang the King,
And Sophist; nor gave time the rampant steeds;
The ground in rage, and fierceness they devoured—
War-steeds they were; whence come they might not know;
But from afar—hark, sounded clarions loud;
Straightway those battle-horses reared their necks,
Doubting the trumpet's blare with scornful neigh,
Saying ha! ha! and snuffed the distant strife,
The captain's thunder, and the shouting hosts:
Then sought, as if on eagle's wings, what they
Deemed the heroic conflict that they loved.
—But their high Master otherwise decreed.

Till Night, the brave Steeds bore the Wanderers—
And the Stars on the sands looked from the Sky;
A Paradise all Heaven, Earth all a Waste,
Save for the Horsemen twain, in whom Life lived,
Only in them; elsewhere was Life as Death,
Death without Birth, a barren sepulchre.

But lived it in them only? Voices scare
The silent Moon, admiring as she sails,
Like Hades through the Deep of fluid Air—
A ship of Souls, a populous Orb—and long
A Wanderer o'er the desart solitude;
Yet wondering more to hear, or to behold
Vocal, or moving aught, though few, and rare.
Round, and at full, her broad bright beams shed down
A radiance o'er strange group, at distance seen,
Chiefs, and attendants; horsemen, and men armed.

Nor men alone:—a Woman in the midst
Shrieked loud to the deaf wilds, and hearts as deaf,
And wild:—for, obvious in the light, the King
His Brother recognized, Azaradel;
And Sodi; and with them was Edna fair.

Had Sodi, then, by force, and, with the aid
Of sovran power, conveyed, from her far home,
The Maid who scorned his love, here now to sate
Passion grown savage since? No—in his heart,
Once good, ruled vengeful Hate where once reigned Love,
That to the incestuous prince was willing now
To sacrifice fair Object, whom he loathed
Still fair to see, still pure . . a blessèd thing.

Then paused the Twain, to note what there might chance;
A friendly mound of sand concealed their forms,
And weariness had tamed, and hushed their steeds,
So hard had they been ridden. Thus, by chance,
All they o'erheard, unable to contend
With troop so numerous, lawless, bent on ill.

And Edna pleaded for her virgin rights:
‘Men cruel; men profane; why have ye rapt
Me from the vale of peace, and holiness,
From Armon, and the Family of Seth?
Sodi, thou lovedst me once. Can one who loves,
Who loved me ever, seize by force, by fraud,
My innocence, thus—thus—transporting me,
—Whither?’—

Then Sodi answered her, in scorn,
In irony:

‘Edna; to a monarch's arms—
To future honour, and dominion—Say,
Is this not love?’

‘O save me from such love;’
Cried Edna, falling prostrate on the earth,
‘Father of Heaven, oh, save me from such love.’

‘And I will save thee,’ . . Samiasa said, . .
And forth had rushed, but then his Angel came,
Even Phanuel, and stood before him here,
Restraining him with this admonishment—

‘She shall be saved; for God has heard her prayer.’

Then o'er her bent Azaradel, and raised
The dropping maid.

‘Why shouldst thou fear, who love?
Fair Edna, daughter of translated Enoch,
Named from thy mother, thee I saw in tears,
Then loveliest, at Lamech's burial-tide;
Hopeless of other chance, 'twas my despair
Surprised thee, and with seeming violence,
Hath borne thee from the Patriarch's land away—
To Enos bent’

‘Bad city,’ . . then, she cried:
But he:

‘There, with the aid of Tubalcain,
Bride of a Prince, from Amazarah far,
We may both reign, and revel in high joy,
'Till to return it please us, and to wrest
Dominion from her hand, decrepid now,
And hated by the people.’

Here he paused,
As having said too much—but safely more
The traitor might have uttered; for all sense
Had left the Virgin, sunk into a swoon.

‘Ho, Hherem;’ cried Azaradel, . . ‘take charge
Of sleeping Beauty; for without thee, how
Could we for safety answer in these sands?
And if aright I augur, a wild storm
Will waken from the calm of this fair night.’

‘Fear not;’ said Hherem, coming from the train,
‘God-born.’—

‘God-born?’ demurred Azaradel:—
‘Adon's a god to them who so believe;
But not to me.’

‘Not he thy sire.’

‘Who then?—
What, thou?’

‘Now, heed the tale which I will tell—
Fit place, and time, the Desart, and the Night,
For such revealing. 'Tis the Mystery
Of Amazarah. Sit we down, awhile,
About this Fountain in the Wilderness.’

So down they sate in circle; Hherem, then,
To willing listeners thus his tale pursued.

‘When Cain from her by name of Wisdom known
Departed in his anger, and his heart
Set on stern Beauty, such as Fury wears:
The Spirit whom he mated, then, conceived
Vision how Murther followed hard on Theft;
And the Fiend burned to example the bad league.
Eve's first-born solemnized the marriage-rite,
And shed abroad the sacramental wine,
That made it holy, from the living tree.
Glad I beheld it pour from out the cup,
Then dashed the void vain vessel to the ground.
—Once I was beautiful, as Woman is—
How beautiful, when in the Tiger's form
Or Lion's, in the life of wrath, keen wrought
By hunger, I was limbed, and in each limb
Shewed life in motion—beautiful, when in
The human heart I found a templed ark,
Wherein my laws were hidden. Beautiful
I seemed to Cain, till Conscience waked his soul
To fear, and in the mirrour of his dread
Changed my aspect to satyrane, and vile!
Upon the manèd Steed, he flew afar—
I followed, all as fast. Now Enos rose,
And was enlarged; and Wealth increased, and lust
Of Lucre, that divinest appetite
Which pleases most thy avaricious soul,
The noblest attribute, Azaradel.
Beauty in women, Majesty in men
Had birth, and being, and dominion won;
And straight the Spirit of Pride from the Abyss,
Walked in its ways; finding a home, and shrine,
A Temple in the City, and was adored
Under the name of Mammon, haughty god,
And heartless, heaping-up for self-good only
Wealth, or Opinion, careful of none else—
And, ay, at many a hearth was welcome he,
In more familiar guise—and in the house
Of royal Lamech dwelt, and had high speech
With Zillah fair, and Adah beautiful.
—I saw him there, and knew the sports he played;—
Ah, present then was I, when Lamech breathed
His dread for them he slew, in Adah's ear,
And Zillah's. There between the Twain he stood,
Trembling; the reeking weapon in his hand,
The witness of his guilt. With drooping mien,
Zillah that story heard, and in her soul
Felt the cold hand of death, and with the touch
Thrilled, shuddering, terrour-stricken, awe-subdued—
But Adah was of bolder strain, and she
Cheered him with hope, and of resources spake,
Such as but women find, when perils throng,
To break successfully their dædal net.—
Like them their daughters:—fair Naamah, soft,
Soft as her mother, Zillah;—Adah's child
Was Amazarah, brave and brilliant maid;
For Adah to god Mammon listened pleased,
And her the Power compressed, whence issue grew,
The glorious Queen, whose daring waked to Love
Adon, soon slain by Amazarah's scorn—
Her scorn?—Ope, now, thine ears, Azaradel.
Her scorn?—Thou doubtest well, my Son, my Son,
Thy godship sprung of Adon. Not of thee
Was he the Sire. I wooed her, in her scorn:
I—deity—wooed her, the daughter of
A deity—preferred accepted claims—
And thou—nay, start not—for there comes of this
What will to thee do service.’—

Then loud laughed
Azaradel, exclaiming—

‘Speak it out’—
And Hherem said:

‘When to that City thou
Arrivest with this thy charge, there I'll repeat
The Legend I have told, while sitting now
About the Fountain in the Wilderness;
And thou, in right of thy descent, shalt claim
Honours divine, as both by sire, and dam
Divinely sprung—God Mammon thou shalt be,
Made visible, revealed to mortal sense;
And this shall be thy Bride, by Oracle,
Destined, within the Temple of the Power,
To bless thy bed, shrined in the Secret Place.’

Then rose the Prince, and all who there on him
Attended, with the feint of Hherem glad;
And made for Enos with what speed they might.

And Samiasa spake, while Palal heard:
‘My heart was bursting in me while the Fiend
Lied in my Brother's ear. But 'tis to him
Appointed to degrade me; and a spell
Was on me while he lied, and still remains.
Yet do I feel my own good Angel nigh.
Palal, save for his word, that Edna's prayer
Was answered, and the assurance that I feel,
He who sustains all power owns will to save
Her innocence . . fair Edna's innocence . .
My trust in him had given my single might
Success against those hosts. Moreover, He
Who rules the tribes of animals, and lent
Us safety in the steeds we now bestride,
Imposed on me high duty, to return
Unto the City of my Name, where aid
Of mine was wanted. Nor may I presume
To change in aught the tasks appointed me.’

‘I know not,’ answered Palal, ‘aught of word
Angelic; but dispute not thy resolve.
'Tis Wisdom to escape, with utmost speed,
The desart-wild, for human dwelling-place.’

With that, the Sophist, and the King spurred on
Their rested steeds, swift o'er the sands conveyed.

Onward to Naid, Ham, and Elihu wend:
And, through the gates of that metropolis,
Pass with the miracle of multitudes,
Ferocious once, now tamed—increasing train,
In countless numbers it were vain to tell.

The tall Giraffe,—since Ethiopian brute,
A Cameleopard, male, and female here;
The male the taller, with high-raisèd chest,
And taper neck, and head; placid of mien,
Dun, with brown spots, his hue, and bristly-maned:
The Monkey, with the crescent on his brow,
Like the night's borrowed sun, the crescent moon,
Befitting symbol, mimicry of man:
The Oran Outang—wild man of the woods—
Ape, and Baboon, with face for ever old;
Ingenious race, of many species they,
The wilderness their home; in reverence held,
By superstitious husbandman, who views
The herd of satyrs, issuing from their woods,
Seize the collected produce of his toil,
The cultivated fruits, and fain submits,
In apathy, his orchard to the rape:
The Squirrel, various—Tamia named, and Palm;
A social tribe, roof-builders, and within
Domestic sanctuary entering free,
Like the red-breasted bird, to pick the crumbs
That fall beneath the hospitable board
Familiar. Provident, and active these,
Protecting from the wind their mossy nests,
High on the forkèd branches, and, in store
For winter, laying up their proper food,
Nuts, chestnuts, acorns, berries, fruit, and maze,
Hid in tree-hollow, or beneath the ground;
There burrowing long galleries, passaging
To meet apartments, chambers separate
For each variety of treasured meat;
Or in migration, from the pine, or birch,
They build their boat of bark, to cross the lake,
And woo the wind with obvious tail upraised.
Grey, red, and black—some flying, or so fast
Leaping, no swiftest arrow sent from bow
In sport, or strife, e'er sped so swift as they
From tree to tree, by moonlight foraging,
Or skimming through the air from branch to branch,
They feed on leaves, and insects, . . all the day
Still nestling in the hollows of the trees.
— The double-wombed Opossum next, who loves
Trees for her dwelling, in a marshy site,
Or by the sea—the dreaming Civet too,
Slumbering the day, and prowling through the night
For birds, and smallest deer; draining the gore
Ere gorging on the flesh; yet odourous both.
— The Glutton, darting often, from high bough,
On Elk, or Rein-deer's head, and tearing thence
The eyes, and sucking of its blood, until
Death ease the prey of anguish; when he feasts,
Feasts till no food remain, or sleep surprise
The gorgèd feaster; then, even by the side
Of his poor victim, sinks into repose.
— The Weazel, slender, sleek, and agile; keen
For blood; either inhabitant of caves,
And rocky fissures, or of sheltering woods,
According to their kinds—the Pine, and Beech,
And Sable Martens, costliest of the tribe.
— The Ratel, ravisher of honied combs,
Ash-grey, and black, and loose though tough of hide;
Him guides the Honey-cuckoo with his note,
To the sweet treasures that he loves so well,
In burrows dug by quadrupeds, laid up
For the small Bees, unconscious service. There
The Indicator leads, itself too frail
To storm the hive, the Ratel; flying slow,
And halting in its flight; and evermore
Admonishing with warning voice, until
The spoil is neared, then, ceasing from its note,
Quietly perched upon a tree, awaits
Its share of plunder, rendered for reward.
Oft too, ere twilight eve, the Ratel sits,
Shading the rays of the declining sun,
With one paw, from his peering eyes, until
A flight of bees, returning to their homes,
Direct him where his pillage may be lodged.
Some say, by Ganges, and the Jumna, too,
He prowls at night for newly-buried corse,
And scratches up the unprotected grave.
—The Beaver, architect by Nature taught,
And skilful builder, fetching from afar
Materials for the structure of his house,
Cemented well; a rodent animal,
For with his teeth he strips, and separates
The bark, his food, and wherewithal he builds;
A populous villager; or hermit shorn
Of former instinct, if of means deprived—
Neither less wise, the Ants. In peace with them
The Ant-eaters, great and less, with sheathèd tongue,
Folding within their mouth;—protruded whence,
They from the Ant-holes draw their proper prey.
—The Loris, slowly paced, which creeps abroad
At night, for prey, from branch to branch, of sleep
The guiltless murtherer; and the Lemurs quick
But gentle, feeding but on fruits, and roots,
Living on trees, and basking in the sun,
A social band, with white aspect, or black,
Rufous, or many hued. The Rabbit kind,
The Agoutis, and the Pacas; with the small
Chinchillas delicate, silken of fur,
Fine as the spider's web, a cleanly tribe—
The lively Jerboa, and the Manis scaled—
The alpine Marmot, provident to store,
For winter, moss, and hay, within the holes
Formed in the mountain-sides; and there they sleep,
The door well-guarded first, to shut out cold,
And raging storm, as well as prowling foe.
The gentle Cavies, though irrational;
Yet like thereto, how many of the race
That rule them, eat, and sleep, and propagate,
And do no more—The Dormouse of the wood,
Of hedge, and bush—The Mole, that makes its nest
Beneath the ground, of herbage and of moss,
Warm bed—The slender Fitche, that both the wood
And thicket haunts, of barn, and hen-roost foe—
The Kangaroo, on its hind legs sustained,
And moving fast, high bounding and afar,
Its fore too brief, and but as hands employed
To dig with, or to feed. Named from its voice,
The Gnou, gregarious brute, like to the horse
In body, mane and tail, ox-like of head
And horns, and for his eye, the bright Gazelle's
Not brighter. Fiery-eyed, red glaring, keen
For blood, the yellow Ferret pale; now quenched
Its wonted ever kindled appetite.
—The small Racoon, a bounding animal,
At home on plain, or tree; him ocean oft
O'erwhelms at flow of tide, found on the shore
In quest of shell-fish, by the oyster quick
His foot enclosed, and prisoned to the spot:
Now, with the rest, in happy freedom grouped,
Obedient to Elihu's voice divine.
—Attended thus, Ham, and Elihu rode,
Right through the gates of Enos—and within
The streets of that great city wend along.

Wonderous array, but far more wonderous still
The unwondering apathy of gazing crowds.
—In knots of disputants, the Citizens
Were grouped, engaged on argument too great
To spare attention, though by greatest sight
The world might witness wooed. A race they were
Of meagre artizans, mechanic slaves,
Whose boast of old grew that the common weal
By them was built, and nourished; authours sole
Of riches they, producers of the corn,
The oil, the clothing, and conveniences,
The luxuries which stablish social life;
And right it was that who created thus,
They should distribute wealth. High glee was theirs,
When Tubalcain, with fair Naamah vain,
His sister, and his spouse, held o'er the realm
Dominion. Willing, to her various lusts
Stern Tubalcain the wed Naamah left,
And bent to state economy his mind—
Skilful or to commence, or to promote
Invention, manufacture, and supply.

Labour he urged, and diligence he loved,
And whoso would of him employment found,
And what they made he kept in public store,
And sold to who could purchase. Thus became
Great Tubalcain of human industry
Proprietor, and lord; and, for exchange,
Had with his superscription metal stamped
For current coin, whence lust of lucre grew,
Root of all evil. Soon he made decree,
That none should weave, or knit; or sew, or shape
Sandal, or raiment, save of stuff supplied
From out his storehouse, to be then returned,
And wages paid for labour, whence again
At a taxed price, and with a duty-mark,
'Twas issued to the buyer. Thus was he
A princely merchant, a mechanic king;
Nor many wanting were, who saw, in such
Confusion of all orders blent in one,
A loved equality of man with man,
And knew not all were masters thus, or slaves:
Bound by no generous, but by sordid links
Of commerce, that the finer feelings blunts,
If gain alone be sought. Soon, like a blight,
Gold withered happiness; and thus it proved
Food of digestion hard to body, or soul,
Both in the city, and the lands about
Of Enos, and of Naid. Awhile, appeared
Prosperity to smile, and plain it was,
Both court, and courtiers—if so called might be
Either, that fitlier were from stithy named,
Mart, or exchange, and chapmen—flourished well.
Far countries, in their produce, dealt with them,
And took the clothing, with the corn, and oil,
At higher price, which might have been at home
Better consumed; hence, mid abundance, lacked
The natives, working on in wretchedness—
Now misery cried loud, and would be heard;
What then? its wants invention must supply;
And soon machines were reared, and engines built,
Of wonderous power, and structure intricate,
That might the needed labour substitute,
And infancy might tend. Now was no scant
Of produce, still the poor were very poor;
Raiment was wrought, but clothed not them; and food
Went to all markets, but it fed them not;
And, worse, ere long, constructions first designed
To aid in labour superseded soon,
And to their other ills, next indolence,
The fruitful mother of pernicious moods,
Was added; crime succeeded, murther last,
Personal, and judicial—horrid waste
Of human life, and human energy.

Meanwhile, the child was tasked from earliest morn
To latest eve, watching the processes
Of wheels, and chains ingenious, so to earn
A pittance for its parents; urged to toil
Excessive by the force of blows, and dying,
Even hour by hour, as standing at its work—
A constant martyrdom, but soon to end,
Since age mature, of man or womanhood,
Seldom attained, the grave quick closed on grief,
And shut the murthered infant safely up
From the oppressor, in the house of hope.
Meantime, for them whose hands could find no work,
Idle perforce, no means were found to give
Knowledge that might the spirit cultivate,
And rear a class that should, with moral power,
Win for instruction of the citizen
The means of life, reaping of temporal things
Guerdon for spiritual, imparted free;—
But rather by their rulers were they taught
To scorn religious ministry, and glow
With hate 'gainst Eden's patriarchy, and seek
In war provision, peace gave not for life.
—Hence, were the populace disputing now,
How to assail the Mount of Paradise,
And find an end, unreasoning, of their ills,
By seizing that Palladium of the Earth
For their possession: holding like a charm,
Whence plenty might, in some mysterious way,
Accrue to wisdom, and to folly both,
And vice might revel on the gifts of heaven.
And many a form had Hherem there assumed,
With Satan, and Azaziel, to inflame
The imbruted mind with passions fiercely wild.

On—on Ham and Elihu passed—on—on,
Even to the palace gates. The menials, there,
At them, and at their retinue, awhile
Gazed with brief admiration, and went in
To Tubalcain, Naamah, and their court,
To tell them of a miracle. Aloud
Then laughed the royal pair, incurious they
Of aught beyond the circle of their aims,
And unbelieving. So forth of the town,
Into the fields and forests, hasted on,
Ham, and Elihu, on their mission bent.
—Thence took they bird, and beast. There, at thy voice
Divine, Elihu, following, obeyed
The Ibex, long of horn and numerous,
According to his years; his burthened head,
Though brief, is bearded, wanderer of Alps,
And dweller on their summits: the small Roe,
The Roe, though small yet strong, and great in craft,
Baffling the hound, and cheating of his scent,
As skilled to fly as he is to pursue:—
The Tapir of the wilderness, lone brute,
In far seclusion, buried in the depth
Of forest solitudes, veiled not alone
From man's intrusion, but the fellowship
Of his own kind;—him doth the hunter woo
By imitative whistle, sharp, and shrill,
Like to his own, then twangs the poisoned shaft,
And the poor beast is hit; but better fares,
Obstructed on his passage to the stream
By race canine; there, standing, he resists
Their worrying, and them, seizing by the necks,
Whirls to afar, not free from loss of flesh.
Now social came the Tapirs, and with them
The Peccaries, a tusky swinish tribe,
Collared, or else white-lipped, a forest-race,
In pairs, and families discovered one,
The other banded in a numerous troop;
Fording with care the current broad, and swift,
And from the opposing bank still forthright on,
They hold their way destructive, scathing all
The planter's hopes; now guiltless, with the Boar,
Came they—or wild, or civilized, brave brute,
Though gluttonous; and the foul Hog, and Sow,
That to her vomit evermore returns,
Submissive now to law of purer strain.

But vain it were to paint the miracle
In verbal hues, and to express the train
Of creatures that there walked, or leaped, or flew.
The Birds, the glorious Birds, that made the air
As glorious in their flight, or decked the earth
With ornament of plumage numerous.
The spurless, but not crestless Curassow,
The galeated and the razor-billed,
The rufous and globose—the Peury, too,
The clamourous Guan, with the lady Crane,
The Crownèd, and the Crex, and Trumpeter,
The Heron, cleft of bill; the Bittern, raised;
The Spoonbill, and the Ibis; while the Stork,
Both white, and black, foremost with head, and neck,
Cleaved, large of wings, with legs reverted long,
Rapid the air, and matched the wild Curlews.

With these they left the region; journeying, till
They reached the junction of the rivers, where
Elihu smote the riven waters straight,
With his prophetic mantle. On each side,
They parted like a wall, and in the midst
Ham, and Elihu passed, with all their train,
By power miraculous guided. Such their guard,
By day, and anxious night, till their return
To Eden's land; then safely, in the Place
Of the First Man's Creation, sought they spot
For refuge; and there found for them, and theirs;
Ham, and Elihu; with the bird, and beast,
Their gathering, according to the Word
Of the Almighty, that into the Ark
Two of each living creature of all flesh,
Of every kind, there to preserve alive,
Both male, and female, clean, and the unclean,
Of fowl, and cattle, Noah should bring in,
And take to him of all food edible,
As food for him, and them. And such high charge,
Spite what since chanced, to Ham was trusted then:
And learn from this, although a Father's curse
Pursue the race of Ham, that there with them
The Angel of Compassion still abides,
With miracle from Nature to redeem,
Turning to Eden desart wilderness;
Hence, shew them mercy in your justest acts,
Then justest when most merciful they seem,
And greet the Brethren with a holy kiss.