The Poetical Works of William Lisle Bowles Vol. 2

PART THIRD

The sounds of an approaching storm – Vision, etc.

The east is overcast; the nearer islesAre hidden by a sudden spleen; the cloudsUpon Elijah's promontory165 nowAre mustering gloomily; there is a soundOf rain, and as, with interrupted gusts,The winds are rising, a long murmur comes,More hollow, from the seas; at times a wail,At distance, seems to mingle with the wind,Audibly; even the sea-birds on the cliffsCower, while the sounds as of a trump are heard,Prophetical and sad. Let us retire,For Sagittarius rules the wayward year.166Pensive, they both retired into the cave.The eyes of John were heavy, and ere longHe sank into deep slumber, like a child,Hushed by the ocean sounds; and now aroseVisions more dark and terrible. He sawThe Lamb of God open the book. Hark! hark!The thunder and the tempest roll! John sawFour cherubims, and they said, Come and see!He looked, and, behold! on a white horseSat one who had a bow, and he there was crowned;And with his bow, and crowned, he went forth,"Conquering and to conquer."Hark! a moanComes up from all the earth! The second sealIs opened, and the second cherubimCries, Come and see! Behold another horse,And it is red;167 and he who sits thereonIs like a warrior, waving in his handThe sword of slaughter; so he goeth forthTo kill and to destroy, and "to take peaceFrom all the earth." Listen! for the third sealIs opening now, and the third cherubimCries, Come and see! Then said a voice to John,What dost thou see?JOHNLo! a black horse appears —Its rider has a balance in his hand.Ride on – ride on! Justice and EquityVisit the earth, with Plenty.168The fourth sealIs opened now, and the fourth cherubimCries, Come and see!VOICEWhat seest thou?JOHNA pale horse —VOICEAnd rider?JOHNYes – a dire anatomy.As he rides on, nations with terror shriek —Death! and the gulf of hell shoots out its flameAfter the footfall of that ghastly horse.The rider shouts, and haggard Famine crawls,With wan and wasted visage, from her cave;And Pestilence, speeding unseen in air,Breathes, and ten thousand perish, and wild beastsHowl in the city of the dead, and feedUpon the black and countless carcases.169Low thunders rolled, and sounds of woe were heard,When the fifth seal was opened; and John sawA burning altar, and beneath it, soulsOf those who had been slain – the witnesses,Confessing Christ in torments, and they cried,How long, O Lord, holy, and just, and true,Dost thou not judge – judge and avenge our cause!And robes of white were given to each of them,And a voice said, Oh! rest ye yet a while,Rest ye till persecution's cup be drained;The judgment leave to Him who sits in heaven.The thunders louder rolled, as the sixth sealWas opened. Ah! the sun is black aboveAs sackcloth, and the round moon red as blood;Earth rocks from east to west; the stars are fallen,And falling, as the fig-tree casts its figs,When shaken by the mighty hurricane.Heaven is departing, like a scroll; the kings,And the chief captains, and the mighty men,Bondmen and free, have hid them in the caves,And mountains, and dark places of the earth,And to the mountains and the rocks they cry,Fall on us! hide us – hide us from the faceOf the incensed Lamb, for his great dayOf wrath is come, and who on earth may stand!170And after this, John saw four angels standOn the four corners of the earth; they heldThe rushing winds, that not a wind should blowTumultuous on the earth, or on the sea,Whilst they stood silent; then with radiant wings,Bright as the sun ascending from the east,Another glorious angel came, who boreThy seal, O living God; and a loud voiceTo the four angels cried, Hurt not the earthOr seas, till on their foreheads we have sealedThe servants of our God. And they were sealedOf all the tribes of Israel. After this,A multitude which no man on the earthCould number, of all nations and all tongues,Clothed in white robes, and bearing in their handsPalms, as triumphant, stood before the throneOf glory, and before the Lamb of God,And cried aloud, Salvation to our God,Which sitteth on the throne, and to the Lamb.171And all the angels stood about the throne,The elders, and the mighty cherubims,And on their faces fell, before the throne,And worshipped God, and cried aloud, Amen:Blessing and glory, wisdom, honour, power,Be to our God, for ever and for ever!Then seemed that one among the elders spakeTo John, and said, What are these multitudesWho bear triumphant palms, all clothed in white?John answered, Sir, thou knowest. He replied,These are victorious saints, who have come outFrom the great tribulation, and have washedTheir bloody garments, and have made them white —White through His blood who died upon the cross;Therefore they stand before the throne of God,And in his temple serve him day and night,And He that sitteth on the throne shall dwellAmong them. They shall hunger now no more,Nor thirst; the sun shall cheer them, but not burn;The Lamb shall feed them, and shall lead them forthTo pleasant pastures, and to fountains bright,And from their eyelids wipe away all tearsFor ever.There was silence in the heavens,When the seventh seal was opened, and John sawSeven angels standing by the throne of God,Having seven trumpets; and an angel came,Who, hovering, with a golden censer, stoodBefore an altar, and the smoke went up,Of incense, from the altar. These are prayersOf all the saints on earth – prayers which ascend,Like incense, from the censer in the handOf that bright angel, to the throne of God.Ah! he has cast his censer to the earth;And suddenly the earthquake and the stormAwoke, and through the darkness, rolled and flashedDeep thunders and the lightning; and, behold!The seven angels lift their trumpets high,Lift, and prepare to sound. And now the firstSounds – and there follows instant hail, and fireMingled with blood, which on the earth was cast;So that the trees stood bare and desolate,And the green grass was withered and burnt up.The second angel sounded, and, behold!A burning mountain cast into the sea.The third part of all creatures in the seaDied, a third part of all the ships that sailedUpon the sea was smitten and destroyed.And the third angel sounded; and there fellA star from heaven. It fell on the third partOf rivers, and the fountains of the deep;And swollen and livid carcases were left,Weltering, beside the dark, blood-heaving sea.And the fourth angel sounded; and the sunFor the third part was smitten, and the moonFor the third part was darkened; and John sawAnd heard an angel flying in mid heaven,And crying with a mighty voice, Woe, woe,Woe to the earth, by reason of the voiceOf the three trumpets that are yet to sound!And the fifth trumpet sounded; and John sawA star fall from the heavens to the earth;And to the angel of the star was givenThe key that shuts the nethermost abyssUpon the groans of those that groan therein.The pit is opened, and the volumed smoke,Shooting red flames, as from a furnace, rolls,And out of it there issued crawling things,172Like scorpions; but they had no power to hurtThe green grass of the earth, but those aloneWho on their foreheads had no seal of heaven:These shall seek death, but find him not, for deathShall fly from them, when they most pray to die.Like horses trained for battle, a dire troopComes sounding; on their heads are crowns, like gold;Faces are theirs, like men; and they have hairAs women, and teeth white and terribleAs lions; and their iron breastplates shake,With hurtling noise; the sounding of their wingsIs as the chariots and the steeds of war,Rushing to the thick war. Who is their king?Apollyon, angel of the deep abyss.One woe is past, yet two more woes remain;For the sixth angel sounded, and John heardA voice like thunders: The four angels loose,In the great river of Euphrates bound.And the four giant angels are unbound,And they go forth to slaughter. And John sawThe horses in the vision, and he sawThose who sat on them, with breastplates of fire,Of jacinth, and of sulphur; and the headsOf the gaunt horses were as lions' heads,And from their mouths issued red fire and smoke.But men repented not, nor turned awayFrom their dark idols, or their sorceries,From worshipping their gods of gold, or stone,Or brass, or silver! Hush! the sound of wings!Another mighty angel comes from heaven,And lights on earth, clothed in a radiant cloud.There is a rainbow on his head; his faceIs as the orient sun; his feet appearPillars of fire; in his right hand a book.He sets his right foot on the seas, his leftUpon the earth, and cries, with a loud voice,Till the world shrinks: and when he thus has cried,Seven thunders answer, uttering to heavenTheir voices.Then the angel said to John,Art thou about to write? Seal up the thingsWhich the seven thunders uttered: write them not.The angel which John saw stand on the seas,And on the earth, raised his right hand to heaven,And swore by Him which liveth, who shall liveFor ever and for ever – swore by HimWho made the heaven, the earth, and all therein,That time shall be no more: the mysteryOf God shall be concluded in the daysOf this last angel's voice. That awful voiceJohn heard entranced; and the voice said to him,Take from the angel's hand, – the hand of himWho standeth on the seas and on the earth, —That book thou markest open in his hand.That book, the rapt Apostle cried, that book!The angel mildly answered, Let thy heartFeed on it; sweet and bitter it shall be,And thou shalt prophesy of things to come,Of dark things yet to be upon the earth.The seventh angel lifted high his trump,And sounded; when from heaven a voice was heard —The kingdoms of this world they are becomeThe kingdoms of our Lord and of his Christ:For ever and for ever, he shall reign,For ever and for ever.Now the arkOf God appeared; and round about the arkThere was a rainbow stealing through the rain,The ark of the new covenant: and, lo!A shining company stood with the LambUpon Mount Zion, and a song was heardOf harpers, harping a new song – the songOf life and immortality. And JohnThen heard a voice – a voice from heaven, which said,Write, write, From henceforth blessed are the deadWhich in the Lord shall die, for they shall restFrom all their labours! Blessed are the dead!The shadows are departed; horse and trumpAre seen and heard no more; the trumpet's clangDies far away: the Apostle turned and prayed,With eyes upraised; and now, for pealing trumps,Heard in the wind the lessening sound of harps,Still lessening, and still lessening, till the caveWas silent; and the stirring winds withoutAlone were heard, like sweet, sad melodies,Remembered in old times; whilst he who stoodBeside him watched; and after, as the daySlowly declined, they two conversing sat,Conversing of God's judgment – of the voiceWhich said to man the sinner, Dust thou art,And unto dust thou shalt return – of death,And immortality through Christ restored;So they deceived the time, till John, oppressedWith sights and sounds so terrible, lay down,And sank to sleep, not to awake till dawn.

PART FOURTH

Morning – Roman Commander – Vision – Babylon – New Jerusalem – Evening – Night Scene – Stars – Temptation – Dream.

John woke from slumber, when the early trumpRang from the Roman camp below, at breakOf the gray dawn; and when the sun arose,After his orisons to Heaven, he satOn the rude stone before his cave, and markedHis staff and form shadowed against the rock,Watching the fitful gleams that, here and there,Chequered the pale Ægean, far away;While he, who never left his side, appearedNow more majestic, as the beams of dayShone on his waving tresses, when he raisedHis look to heaven, and stood sublime in light.But see, with vitis173 of command, and plumeAnd crest, in momentary sunshine bright,The præfect of the Roman guard approach,Hail, father, hail! he cried.And hail to thee,The old man answered, mildly. Art thou comeWith tidings from the Mistress of the World?ROMAN COMMANDERThe world's great sun is set – Cæsar is dead!JOHNCæsar! Ah! in my dream did I not seeHis shadow stern and sad; the purple robeDropping with blood!ROMAN COMMANDERWhy, was he not a god? —So he proclaimed himself – a god on earth!Giving command that altars to his nameShould blaze, as to great Jupiter! Old man,Art thou not prisoner for gainsaying this?174But, father, if a soldier might pronounce,With all respect to thy gray hairs, I deemThe sole, imperial master of the worldMight worthier claim that title, than a manMocked, scourged – ay, scourged! – and crucified with thieves!Rose and ascended into heaven! repliedThe meek old man – a hectic on his cheek —Rose, and ascended into heaven, to sitAt the right hand of God, from thence to come,Judge of the quick and dead! Proud soldier, hear —Hear how a prisoner for Jesus ChristCan answer thee!When King Agrippa satUpon his throne, in oriental state,Surrounded by the Roman soldiery,With axe and fasces of imperial sway,Fair Berenice seated on his right,And on his left Festus the governor,Paul, a poor prisoner of Jesus Christ,Before him stood, in chains; and as he spokeOf "resurrection," and the world to come,He cried, King of the Jews, dost thou believeThe prophets! Yes! I know thou dost believe.The king, with faltering voice, tremblingly cried,Paul, Paul, thou dost persuade even me, almost —To be a Christian! Paul, with lifted handAnd steadfast look, thus answered him, Almost!Oh! would that the whole world were not "almost,"But "altogether" such as I am now,Except these bonds.Soldier, I say the same.But hie thee to thy eagle; I am here,A poor old man, like Paul, a prisoner,And thou, an officer of mighty Rome;Yet would I pray to God, that thou may'st be,Oh! not "almost," but "altogether," suchAs I am now, except these few gray hairs,Old age, and many sorrows; yet even hereMy soul hath been sustained by Him who said,Lo! I am with you alway, and I knowHe still is with me. I have heard his voice,And seen his look of glory and of loveTurned on me, in this solitude; and he —He who did shudder with me at the voiceOf thy bold blasphemy, here lately cameWith words of comfort, and these aged eyesHave seen the things that must hereafter be;Yet know, stern soldier, if my days were passedLonely as hopeless, I would not exchangeThese few gray hairs for thy green laurel crown —This solitude, for living Cæsar's throne,Or Cæsar's subject world!The soldier turnedDisdainful, and his crest shook in the wind;Then, lifting high his ensign of command,He bade the trumpet sound the second watch.John knelt, and prayed, Thy kingdom come, O Lord!Then he who stood beside him, spoke unmoved:Rome – Rome shall be no more! At dead of night,Hark! the barbarian trump; JerusalemShall be avenged; and those of distant days,Pondering the fate of empires, there shall comeTo muse upon the fragments of her might,Her ancient glory passed as morning clouds,And tremble for the judgments of the LordIn all the world!Now to the cave retire,For other visions of the things to come,And other fearful shadows, must thou see.John sat, and held his hands upon his brow:The earth seems to retire, and all the soundsOf tumult and of woe at once to cease.Then John was in the Spirit, and he sawSeven angels, and, beneath, a sea of glassMingled with fire; and on the sea of glassThose who had gained, on earth, the victoryOver the beast, all standing on the seaOf glass, and in their hands the harps of God,And thus they sung, Oh! great and marvellousArt thou, Almighty God, and just and trueAre all thy ways, thou King of saints! Amen.Now from the temple a loud voice was heard,Which said to the seven angels, Go your ways,Pour out the vials of the wrath of GodUpon the earth.175 Then on the men which boreThe mark upon their foreheads of the beast,Or fell down to his image, noisome soresAnd plague-spots fell.The second angel pouredHis vial on the sea, and it becameThe blood of a dead man; and every thingWhich had the breath of life died in the sea.And the third angel poured his vial outUpon the rivers, and fresh fountains clear,And they became red blood. And then John heard,In trance, the angels of the waters say,Righteous art thou, O Lord! and righteously,O thou which art, and was, and which shall be,Thus hast thou judged, for they have shed the bloodOf prophets and of saints! A voice replied,From out the altar, Even so, O Lord!Almighty God, thy judgments are most true!And the fourth angel poured his vial outUpon the sun, and power was given to himTo scorch men with the fire, and they blasphemedThe name of God, and still repented not,Looking with gnashing teeth upon the sun.And the fifth angel poured his vial outUpon the kingdom of the beast, and, lo!The kingdom of the beast at once was dark:But men repented not – even while they gnawedTheir tongues for pain, blaspheming God in heaven.And the sixth angel poured his vial outWhere the great river of Euphrates rolls,And it was quick dried up, and so becameA highway for the armies of the east,And for the kings of earth, and the whole world,Gathering to battle, on the dreadful dayOf the incensed Lord, into a placeCalled "Armageddon," in the Hebrew tongue.And the seventh angel poured his vial outInto the air, and a loud voice was heardOut of the temple's inmost shrine, which cried,All is fulfilled! At once an earthquake shookThe ground, and lightnings, red and terrible,Flashed, and the thunders rolled along the sky,And strange and fearful voices in the airWere heard, so dreadful was that storm. Aghast,The nations fell; and the great BabylonCame in remembrance before God, to pourOn her the fierceness of his wakened wrath.And now John saw another angel flyIn clouds, and coming down with power from heavenUnto the earth; and all the earth beneathWas lighted with his glory; and he cried,With the loud voice of judgment, BabylonThe great is fallen! And then another voiceAnswered, Come out of her! Hath she not said,I sit a queen, mighty as Ashtoreth?The kings of earth shall tremble when they seeThe smoke of her great torment; they shall standAfar off from her burning, and shall cry,That mighty city, Babylon, alas!In one hour is her judgment come! The voiceOf harpers and of trumpeters no moreShall in her streets be heard: the blood of saints,Of prophets, and of martyrs, is avenged!The cries are heard, the smoke is seen, no more.And after this, John lifted up his eyes,And heard the voice of mighty companies,Which sang and shouted, Alleluia! reignFor ever, Lord of lords and King of kings!Salvation, honour, glory, power, and praise,Be unto thee, O Lord! for thou hast judgedWith righteousness! They, with acclaiming voice,Still sang and shouted, Alleluia – reignFor ever, Lord of lords and King of kings!Heard through the empyrean, the great voiceAgain went up, whilst all the courts of heavenRang, Alleluia! glory be to thee,Glory and power, Lord God Omnipotent!176Then the heaven opened, and, behold! a horseAs white as snow, and he who sat thereonWas called "True and Faithful;" on his headWere crowns on crowns, and underneath a nameWhich no man knew, save he who bore that name.His vesture was a robe of blood, and theyWho followed him proclaimed, The Word of God!And all the heavenly armies followed himOn horses white like his; and on his robeWas written – King of kings and Lord of lords.The pomp is passed, and now John raised his eyes,And saw an angel standing in the sun.The angel in his watch looked down to earth,And all the armies of the earth came forthTo war with the bright chivalry of heaven,And Him who sat on the white horse! And, lo!Before the mighty cherubims advancedMichael, the great archangel, while a shoutRang, that the sun in heaven might seem to standStill at a sound so terrible. OpposedTo the great armies of the living God,Frown the Satanic host, far as the eyeCan reach; and horses black as night,And spectre armies, led, in front, by Death,Appear, receding into farther depthsOf blackness; while, anon, a dragon, scaled,Moves weltering onward. Michael, from the ranksOf cherubim advancing, lifts on highHis mace, and full on the scaled dragon's crestSmites. At his feet the dragon lay, and, lo!The sable phantom-horsemen at the sightAre vanished. Raise the victor-song to HimWho rides on the white horse, and to his GodIn heaven, for the great dragon is cast downInto the bottomless and burning lake!Another angel, with white waving plume,Descends; an iron chain is in his hand,And the dark key of destiny, which shutsThe bottomless abyss, from whence the smokeAscends – ascends, but not a groan is heard.The ancient dragon is cast down, and bound —Bound for a thousand years, in chains, and thrown,Howling, into that nethermost abyss;While mercy, equity, and peace, and truth,Like angel forms, visit the earth, and move,Radiant as light, among the sons of men,And only sounds are heard of harmonies,Such as in heaven are sung about the throne,O'er which, in dewy light, the rainbow bends.The trump of bannered war, the sighs and groansOf miserable slaves, that rise from earth,In one deep murmur, to high heaven, are ceased;For love and mercy walk among mankind,And so shall walk, till the last trump shall sound.Now a new heaven and new earth appear;And, coming down from heaven, even as a brideAdorned to meet her husband, John beheldThe City of the New Jerusalem,Glittering beyond the clouds; and then he heardA voice from a bright cloud, The Lord shall comeAnd dwell with men, and he shall be their God;And God shall wipe from every eye the tear,And death shall be no more!John spread his hands,And cried, with eyes upraised to heaven, Oh! stay,Visions of bliss! I am bowed down with age,Forlorn on earth, and I have tarried longAlone and sad. Oh! come, Lord Jesus Christ!A voice replied, Thou shalt be where he is!Hark! 'twas the billow beating on the rocksOf melancholy Patmos, and John wept,As, slowly fading, like a summer dream,He saw the towers, and gates, and palaces,Of New Jerusalem fade in the cloudsOf eve, which shot its gleaming pinnaclesAloft in the pale sky, and flushed the trackOf the sun's westering orb with crimson light.As the sun sunk, the sound of trump and hornShrilled, and the old man, starting from his trance,Beheld below the cave the Roman troop,Stationed to guard the island criminals,Wind slow, in martial file, with banners spread,Returning to their tents.Ah! where are nowThe temples of the New Jerusalem,Glittering amid the clouds of parting day?Gone, like the rack; and Patmos' dreary isleAnd melancholy caves return the soundOf marching men, and the hoarse Roman trump.The Apostle to the entrance of his cave,The last remaining light on his gray hairs,Comes slowly forth, and rests upon his staff,When the rock-pigeon, at the trump disturbed,Flew to his withered hand. With plumed crestUpon his brazen helmet, holding highThe ensign of command, an eagle borneBefore him, on a spear, the præfect leadsHis legionary band; and as aloftThe banners wave, and shields and corslets throwBack a pale glimmer, mark a mournful trainOf fettered men move sullenly, with whom,Thoughtful, and with his hands upon his breast,His eyes, at times, uplifted to the heavens,One, as a soldier worn with toil, but markedWith a stern sadness on his manly brow,Comes silently, a tear on his dark cheek.Near him, a youth, wan and emaciate,Leans on a female, by his side, in bloomOf youthful beauty; while, at intervals,Whene'er the trumpet ceased to ring, is heardThe breath of muttering, and the clank of chains.John sighed, and, turning to the stranger, said(For both were at the entrance of the cave):Even to this desert spot in the lone waves,War, and the ensigns and the sounds of war,Have reached.His guest illustrious, with a smile,Answered: Yet this is the mere mimickryOf that appalling spectacle, that fillsThe world's wide scene with havoc and with blood;The murmur of whose mighty coil goes upStill to the ear of Heaven. So man, the worm,Preys on his fellow-worm. Turn from the earth,As gradual evening shades the sinking scene,And think upon its sins and strife no more.Come, let us, on the stone, before the cave,For all above is still and glorious,Sit down, and watch the stars as they steal out,One after one, and garnish the pale copeOf heaven. How bright the troops of Hesper shine,Above the shadow of yon farther rock,Whose western side is lustrous; for the moon,Ascending in her car of glory, castsA meditative and a solemn lightFrom cape to cape! Look! there is Helice,177Watched by the Grecian traders of the deep —How clear she shines to-night above the sea!High in the zenith, here and there, apart,Some solitary stars, now scarce discerned,Seem to retire into the farthest space,As if to shun the prouder planet's gaze,Each in his watch, with never-blenching eye,Steadfast. Nor marvel, then the stranger said,When all the silent host of the blue skyAppear so beautiful, IdolatryShould deem them gods, and to the Sun and Moon,Bel and Astarte, pay the worship dueTo the invisible, Almighty Lord,Who rules in heaven and earth.Is there a God?Yes! Nature cries aloud, There is a God,Visible in his works, and infiniteIn power! There is a God, and he is just!There is a God, and he is merciful!Yet might we rather say, there is no God,Than think, that to a being such as manNo revelation of bright hope was given:That man, created in God's image, placedAmid this vast and unknown universe,To sojourn upon earth a few brief yearsOf feverish life, should look, for the last time,Hopeless, upon the setting sun, and die.Oh! better be the worm that feeds on him.With lifted gaze, the last Apostle cried,Fervently cried, Oh! yes, Lord Jesus Christ,Thou art the Christian's hope! but most of me —Of me, whom thou hast visited, and cheeredThrough life's long pilgrimage; of me, of me,In age and solitude; I, too, shall liveWhen all the clouds of time are rolled away,For ever live in glory where thou art!Retiring to the cave, pausing, he turnedTo his companion, but he was not there;The moon shone, but there was no form or shapeOf living thing; so lonely to his cave,O'erwearied, John retired, there musing layOn what he saw and heard, till sleep unawaresOppressed him, and that night – that only night —He had not fallen upon his knees, and prayed,Protect me through this night, O Lord my God!When, suddenly, a hiss was heard without,And the dull hurtle, as of iron wings,And short and intermitted flames, at times,Lighted the cavern roof; then all againWas dark, save when the moon dilated hung,And all again was still. John's heavy eyesWere closed; and dreaming half, and half awake,He slumbered in the cavern. Who art thou?Starting, he cried, and trembled, for strange eyesGlared through the dusk, and seemed to look at him.It was the coinage of the aged brain,When sadness and the sense of lonelinessOppress the weary heart! His eyes are closedA moment, when strange voices, in the air,Syllable words unknown, as mocking him,Then all is hushed again: from the dark roofFantastic and deriding shapes, half seen,Point down long fingers, and a laugh is heardFrom the dark fissure of the rocky cave,Till even his shadow, by a moon-glance seen,Seems joining the fantastic mockery.Strange forms of beasts and birds, with monstrous beaksSolemnly nodding, in the dusk appear.Yonder, by moonlight, all with heads hung down,There moves a shrouded and a moping train,But not a form distinctly visible,Save of a corpse, that silently they bear,On which the moonlight falls. Now a dark cloudIs interposed, and the dim troop dissolves.Forthwith a spectre, towering to the skies,Moves onward – on, directly to the cave;And, towering higher as he moves, he lifts —Half cloud and half anatomy – a dart,Barbed with fire, and a deep voice is heard,Through the involving clouds about his head:I am Apollyon; dost thou sleep, old man?Tremble – and die!John raised his eyes, and prayed,Still shuddering, Save me, save me, Jesus Christ!The spectre vanished: some faint lightning shoneAt distance; and now gentler forms drew nigh,With airy minstrelsy of harps unseen,Surrounding him, like shadows of the blessed:Here, radiant female forms came gliding by;There, in a stream of light, an angel turnedHis look upon him, while soft voices sing:Christian, dost thou yet remainIn this weary world of pain?Dost thou bend thy hoary headWhen all beloved on earth are dead?Hast thou oft, by years oppressed,Prayed for rest, eternal rest?Lo! we come, ere morning peep,To sing thee to thy rest asleep.ECHO FROM THE CAVEAsleep.VOICESAsleep.Sing thee to thy rest asleep.ECHOAsleep.Then came another song, like lullabiesOf ocean, mingled with the airs of night:Whilst a mother's only childRests in short and sweet repose,All her troubles are beguiledWhen its placid eyelids close!But angels watch beside the bedWhere aged Christians rest their head,And as their watchful vigils cease,Parting, they whisper, Peace!ECHO FROM THE CAVEPeace.PARTING VOICESPeace.Tired nature sank to sleep, like infancySoft-breathing, and as calm. Then, in a dream,The shades of mitred and majestic James,Peter, and Paul, came up. He heard their voice,And saw their forms, as when they lived on earth.James looked upon his beard of snow, and said:We have borne witness to the truth in blood;But thy old age shall calmly pass away,Till death be lost in sleep. Then thou shalt wakeIn everlasting bliss, to weep no more,For He whom thou hast seen shall be with thee,And we shall live together – where He is.After a placid and refreshing sleep,The last Apostle raised his eyes, and sawThe same majestic and mysterious manWho stood before him in the cave, and nowThe dim dawn broke on the Ægean deep.