I could not be amongst ye: but there are
Powers deeper still beyond-I come in quest
Of such, to answer unto what I seek.

Nem. What would'st thou ?

Man.

Thou canst not reply to me.

Call up the dead-my question is for them.

Nem. Great Arimanes, doth thy will avouch The wishes of this mortal?

Shadow or Spirit!

Whatever thou art,

Which still doth inherit

The whole or a part
Of the form of thy birth,
Of the mould of thy clay,
Which return'd to the earth,
Re-appear to the day!
Bear what thou borest,

The heart and the form,
And the aspect thou worest
Redeem from the worm.

Appear!—Appear !—Appear!

Who sent thee there requires thee here!

[The Phantom of ASTARTE rises and stands in

the midst.

Man. Can this be death? there's bloom upon her

cheek;

But now I see it is no living hue,

But a strange hectic-like the unnatural red

Which Autumn plants upon the perish'd leaf.
It is the same! Oh, God! that I should dread
To look upon the same-Astarte !—No,

I cannot speak to her—but bid her speak—
Forgive me or condemn me.

NEMESIS.

By the power which hath broken
The grave which enthrall'd thee,
Speak to him who hath spoken,
Or those who have call'd thee!

She is silent,

Man.
And in that silence I am more than answer'd.

Prince of air!

Nem. My power extends no further.
It rests with thee alone-command her voice.
Ari. Spirit-obey this sceptre !
Nem.

She is not of our order, but belongs

Silent still!

To the other powers. Mortal! thy quest is vain,

And we are baffled also.

Man.

Hear me, hear me

Astarte! my beloved! speak to me :

I have so much endured-so much endure

Look on me! the grave hath not changed thee more
Than I am changed for thee. Thou lovedst me
Too much, as I loved thee: we were not made
To torture thus each other, though it were
The deadliest sin to love as we have loved.
Say that thou loath'st me not--that I do bear
This punishment for both-that thou wilt be
One of the blessed-and that I shall die;
For hitherto all hateful things conspire
To bind me in existence-in a life

Which makes me shrink from immortality-
A future like the past. I cannot rest.

I know not what I ask, nor what I seek :
I feel but what thou art-and what I am;
And I would hear yet once before I perish
The voice which was my music-Speak to me !
For I have call'd on thee in the still night,

Startled the slumbering birds from the hush'd boughs,
And woke the mountain wolves, and made the caves
Acquainted with thy vainly echoed name,

Which answer'd me-many things answer'd me—
Spirits and men-but thou wert silent all.
Yet speak to me! I have outwatch'd the stars,
And gazed o'er heaven in vain in search of thee.
Speak to me! I have wander'd o'er the earth,
And never found thy likeness-Speak to me !
Look on the fiends around-they feel for me:
I fear them not, and feel for thee alone-
Speak to me! though it be in wrath ;-but say—
I reck not what-but let me hear thee once-
This once-once more!

Phantom of Astarte. Manfred!

Man.

I live but in the sound-it is thy voice!

Phan. Manfred!

Farewell!

Say on, say on

To-morrow ends thine earthly ills.

Man. Yet one word more-am I forgiven?

Phan. Farewell!

Man.

Phan. Farewell!

Say, shall we meet again?

Man. One word for mercy! Say, thou lovest me. Phan. Manfred !

[The Spirit of ASTARTE disappears. She's gone, and will not be recall'd; Her words will be fulfill'd. Return to the earth,

Nem.

A Spirit. He is convulsed-This is to be a mortal And seek the things beyond mortality.

Another Spirit. Yet, see, he mastereth himself, and makes

His torture tributary to his will.

Had he been one of us, he would have made

Man. We meet then! Where? On the earth ?

Even as thou wilt: and for the grace accorded

I now depart a debtor.

Fare ye well!

[Exit MANFRED.

P

MANFRED'S FAREWELL TO THE SUN.

(MANFRED, Act iii. Scene 2.)

GLORIOUS Orb! the idol

Of early nature, and the vigorous race
Of undiseased mankind, the giant sons
Of the embrace of angels, with a sex
More beautiful than they, which did draw down
The erring spirits who can ne'er return—
Most glorious orb! that wert a worship, ere

The mystery of thy making was reveal'd!
Thou earliest minister of the Almighty,

Which gladden'd, on their mountain tops, the hearts
Of the Chaldean shepherds, till they pour'd
Themselves in orisons! Thou material God,

And representative of the Unknown

Who chose thee for His shadow! Thou chief star,
Centre of many stars! which mak'st our earth
Endurable, and temperest the hues

And hearts of all who walk within thy rays!
Sire of the seasons! Monarch of the climes,
And those who dwell in them! for near or far,
Our inborn spirits have a tint of thee

Even as our outward aspects;-thou dost rise,
And shine, and set in glory. Fare thee well!
I ne'er shall see thee more. As my first glance
Of love and wonder was for thee, then take
My latest look: thou wilt not beam on one

To whom the gifts of life and warmth have been
Of a more fatal nature. He is gone:

I follow.