 | The Wonder-Working Magician |  |
Scene I.
A WOOD; AT THE EXTREMITY A GROTTO.Cyprian.
Cyprian.
Ungrateful beauty mine,
At length the day, the happy day doth shine—
My hope's remotest range,
The limits of my love and of thy change,
Since I to-day will gain
At last my triumph over thy disdain.
This lofty mountain nigh,
Raised to the star-lit palace of the sky,
And this dark cavern's gloom,
Of two that live, so long the dismal tomb,
Are the rough school wherein
From magic art its mystic lore I win,
And such perfection reach
That I can now my mighty master teach.
Seeing, that on this day, since I came here
The sun completes its course from sphere to sphere,
I from my prison cell come forth to view
What in the light I now have power to do.
Ye skies of cloudless day
List to my magic spell-words and obey;
Swift zephyrs that rejoice
In heaven's warm light, stand still and hear my voice;
Stupendous mountain rock
Shake at my words as at an earthquake shock;
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Be frightened at the groanings of my breast;
Ye flowers so fair and frail
Faint at the echoing terror of my wail;
Ye sweet melodious birds
Hush all your songs before my awful words;
Ye cruel beasts of prey
See the first fruits of my long toil to-day;
For blinded, dazzled, dazed,
Confused, disturbed, astonished and amazed,
Ye skies and zephyrs, rocks, and trees, and flowers,
And birds, and beasts, behold my magic powers,
And thus to all make plain
Cyprian's infernal study is not vain.
| The Wonder-Working Magician | |