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Withdrew into the depths of gloom;

Cherub and Seraph pace The horror of that awful doom

The illimitable space, Quench'd for three hours the noontide While sleep the folded plumes from their light,

white shoulders swelling. And wrapt the guilt-shak'n earth in deep From all the harping throng untimely night.

Bursts the tumultuous song, Heath. Now glory to the God, that Like the unceasing sounds of cataracts wakes

pouring, With vengeance in his fiery speed, Hosanna o'er Hosanna louder soaring; To wreak his wrath impatient breaks That faintly echoing down to earthly

On every guilty godless head; Hasty he mounts his early road, Hath seem'd the concert sweet of the har. And pours his brightest beams abroad :

monious spheres. And looks down fierce with jocund light Still my rapt spirit mounts, To see his fane avenged, his vindicated rite. And lo! beside the founts Chris. Now glory to the Christ, whose Of flowing light Christ's chosen Saints love

reclining; Even now prepares our seats of rest,

Distinct amid the blaze And in his golden courts above

Their palm-crown'd heads they Enrolls us 'mid his chosen blest;

raise, Even now our martyr robes of light Their white robes even through that o'er. Are weaving of heaven's purest white ;

powering lustre shining. And we, before thy course is done,

Each in his place of state, Shall shine more bright than thou, oh Long the bright Twelve have sate, vainly-worshipp'd Sun!

O'er the celestial Sion high uplifted ;

While those with deep prophetic raptures We shall conclude with a very long

gifted, extract, being the whole of the last Where Life's glad river rolls its tidetwenty pages of Mr Milman's volume.

less streams, The reader is to understand that Oly. Enjoy the full completion of their heavenbius, the prefect, has entrusted the

ly dreams. superintendance of the execution to Again-I see again Vopiscus, under the notion that Mar

The great victorious train, garita's resolution would certainly fail The Martyr Army from their toils re

posing: when she came into the actual contact

The blood-red robes they wear of mortal agony, and had witnessed

Empurpling all the air, the sufferings of her companions. Even their immortal limbs, the signs of Margarita, seized with a sudden

wounds disclosing. transport of holy enthusiasm, strikes

Oh, holy Stephen ! thou the strings of the sacred lyre of Apol

Art there, and on thy brow lo, and while all around are in hopes Hast still the placid smile it wore in she has reverted to the religion of her

dying, temple, she sings as follows :

When under the heap'd stones in an.

guish lying Mar. What means yon blaze on Thy clasping hunds were fondly spread high?

to heaven, The empyrean sky

And thy last accents pray'd thy foes might Like the rich veil of some proud fane

be forgiven. is rending.

Beyond ! ah, who is there .
I see the star-paved land,

With the white snowy hair!
Where all the angels stand,

'Tis he'tis he, the Son of Man apEven to the highest height in burning rows


At the right hand of One,
Some with their wings dispread,

The darkness of whose throne
And bow'd the stately head,

That sun-eyed seraph Host behold with As on some mission of God's love de

awe and fearing. parting,

O'er him the rainbow springs, Like flames from midnight conflagration And spreads its emerald wings, starting;

Down to the glassy sea his loftiest seat Behold! the appointed messengers

o'erarching. are they,

Hark—thunders from his throne, like And nearest earth they wait to waft our

steel-clad armies marchingsouls away.

The Christ ! the Christ commands us Higher and higher still

to his home! More lofty statures fill

Jesus, Redeemer, Lord, we come, we come, The jasper courts of the everlasting

we come!
dwelling. I

2 M


The Multitude.

But the calm victim look'd upon the peo.

ple, Blasphemy ! blasphemy! She doth pro- Piled o'er each other in the thronging

fane Great Phæbus' raptures_tear her off! And utter'd these strange words_ Alas! Olybius. Ha ! slaves,

lost souls, Would ye usurp our judgment throne ? There's one that fiercer than yon brinded Macer. Be calm.

lion, Callias. Alas! what mean ye, friends ? Is prowling round, insatiate to devourcan such a voice

Nought more we heard, but one long saOffend you ? Oh, my child! thou'rt for vage howl ced to leave me,

Of the huge monster as he sprung, and But not to leave me with averted eye,

then As though thy father's face were hateful The grinding of his ravening jaws. to thee.

The above. Second Officer But yet I dare not chide thee, and I will


Another not. I do remember, when thy mother passid

. And what hast thou to say ?

And I hid my face in my cold shuddering hands,

Sec. Off

Calanthias died But still I gaze on thee, and gaze as though

Beneath the scourge; his look toward the There were a joy in seeing thee even thus.

sky, Olyb. Maeer, thou know'st their sepa.

As though he thought the golden clouds rate doom. Lead off

conceal'd The victims, each to his appointed place.

Some slow avenger of his cause. Chris. Glory! Glory! Glory! the Lord


What now?
Almighty liveth,

Vopiscus. The voice of triumph clamours The Lord Almighty doth but take the mor.

up the skies, tal life he giveth.

- And Phæbus' name is mingled with the Glory! Glory ? Glory! the Lord Al.

shouts mighty reigneth,

Of transport He who forfeits earthly life, a life celestial

Call. Can it be? guineth.

The above. Third Officer, Cal. Why do ye hold me back ?-My Th. Off.

Apollo triumphs ! child ! 'they bind me

Call. Thou sayst not so, she will not With the hard fetters of their arms thou sacrifice hear'st not.

My child! I look'd not yet for this. Speak ! have ye children ? have ye ever

What's here? heard An infant voice that murmur'd to you

The above. Charinus. • Father!

Call. Back, thou foul wretch! I rush'd Ye Gods, how have ye peopled this fierce not forth to thee. Antioch,

Char. Foul wretch, indeed ! I have for. That the fond natural love of child and pa

sworn my God. rent

The blinding flames scorch'd up into mine Is made a crime !

eyes ; Howl, howl ; ay, bloody men, And the false devils murmur'd all around Howl in y · Amphitheatre with joy ; Glut your insatiate hearts with human

Soft sounds of water. blood.


Hurry him away!
Nay, ruthless Prefect, thou'st not sent on to the altar :
her there

The Multitude.
To perish: not to have her tender limbs

lo! Io Pæan!

Io Triumphe!
The above. Officer...

Char." Hah! they point at me,
Officer. Great Prefect, he is dead. The angels from the clouds, my blissful

brethren, 'Twas he, thou saidst ?

That mount in radiance : ere they're lost Officer, Diodotus, great Prefect.

in light, In the arena, as became a soldier, With sad, and solemn, and reproachful He stood with undiscolour'd cheek, while

voices lay

They call me Judas–Judas, that betray'd, The crouching lion stiffening all his màne, That murder'd his blest master and him. With his white-gleaming teeth, and lash selfing tail,

Accurst of men and outcast from thy fold, Scourging to life the slumbering wrath Oh Christ ! and for my pride ? why then within him.

I'll wrap



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Tis vain.

My soul in stern obduracy, and live

Olyb. Speak, and instantly, As jocund as the careless Heathen here. Or I will dash thee down, and trample No Peter's tears fill my dry eyes ; no beam from thee Of mercy on my darkening soul-On, on Thy hideous secret. And I will laugh, and in my laughter sing Officer. It is nothing hideous Io Triumphe ! Io Pæan!

"Tis but the enemy of our faith_She died Olyb.


Nobly, in truth—but Give him the knife of sacrifice.

Call. Dead! she is not dead ! Char.

Down! Down! Thou liest! I have his oath, the Prefect's "Tis wet, and reeks with my Redeemer's Oath ; blood.

I had forgot it in my fears, but now Officer. He's fled.

I well remember, that she should not die. Olyb. Go after--drag him back. Faugh! who will trust in Gods and men Officer. 'Tis vain.

like these ? He cried aloud_“ The devil hath wrestled Olyb. Slave ! Slave ! dost mock me ? with me,

Better 'twere for thee And ranquish'd !”-and he plunged the That this be false, than if thou'dst found sacred knife

a treasure To his unhallow'd heart.

To purchase kingdoms. Olyb.

Ignoble wretch ! Officer. Hear me but a while. Who dared not die_yet fear'd to live. She had beheld each sad and cruel death,

But pause. And if she shudder'd, 'twas as one that What means this deathlike stillness ? not strives a sound

With nature's soft infirmity of pity, Or murmur from yon countless multitudes. One look to heaven restoring all her calmA pale contagious horror seeins to creep

ness : Even to our presence. Men gaze mutely Save when that dastard did renounce his round,

faith, As in their neighbour's face to read the And she shed tears for him. Then led they secret

forth They dare not speak themselves.

Old Fabius. When a quick and sudden cry Old man ! whence comest thou? Of Callias, and a parting in the throng, What is't?

Proclaim'd lier father's coming. Forth she Call. I know not ! I approach'd the place

And clasp'd the frowning headsman's Of sacrifice, and my spirit shrank within knees, and said me;

“ Thou kríow'st me; when thou laid'st on And I came back, I know not how.

thy sick bed, Olyb.

Still mute! Christ sent me there to wipe thy burning Even thus along his vast domain of silence brow. Dark Pluto gazes, where the sullen spirits There was an infant play'd about thy Speak only with fix'd looks, and voiceless chamber, motions

And thy pale cheek would smile and weep And ye are like them.-Speak to me, I charge you,

Gazing upon that almost orphan'd childNor let mine own voice, like an evil omen, Oh! by its dear and precious memory, Load the hot air, unanswer'd.

I do bəseech thee, slay me first and quickly: Call.


'Tis that my father may not see my death." Vop.

Didst hear it! Cull. Oh cruel kindness! and I would That shriek, as though some barbarous foe have closed had scaled

Thine eyes with such a fond and gentle The city walls.

pressure ; Olyb. Is’t horror or compassion ? I would have smooth'd thy beauteous limbs, Or both ?

and laid The above. Fourth Officer. My head upon thy breast, and died with Olyb. What means thy hurried look ? thee. Speak-speak!

Olyb. Good father ! once I thought to Though thy words blast like lightning.

call thee so, Offreer.

Mighty Prefect, How do I envy thee this her last fondness! The apostate Priestess Margarita

She had no dying thought of me.Go on. Olyb.

How ?

Officer. With that the headsman wiped Where's Macer?

from his swarth cheeks Officer. By the dead.

A moisture like to tears. But she, mean. Olyb. What dead ?

while, Officer.

Remove On the cold block composed her head, and Thy sword, which thou dost brandish at cross'd my throat,

Her hands upon her bosom, that scarce And I shall answer.


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She was so tranquil; cautious, lest her Embolden'd multitudes from every quarter garments

Throng forth, and in the face of day proShould play the traitors to her modest care. claim And as the cold wind touch'd her naked Their lawless faith. They have ta'en up * neck,

the body, And fann'd away the few unbraided hairs, And hither, as in proud ovation, bear it Blushes o'erspread her face, and she look'd With clamour and with song. All Antioch

crowds As softly to reproach his tardiness : Applauding round them--they are here, And some fell down upon their knees, behold them. sonie clasp'd

Christian Hymn. Their hands, enamour'd even to adoration

Sing to the Lord ! let harp, and lute, and Of that half-smiling face and bending

voice form.

Up to the expanding gates of Heaven reCall. But he_but he-the savage exe.

joice, cutioner

While the bright Martyrs to their rest - Officer. He trembled.

are borne; Call. Ha ! God's blessing on his head !

am Sing to the Lord! their blood-stain'd

out his palsied And the axe slid from

course is run, · hand ?

And every head its diadem hath won, Officer. He gave it to another.

Rich as the purple of the summer morn; Call. And

Sing the triumphant champions of their Officer. It fell.

God, Call.

I see it,

While burn their mounting feet along their I see it like the lightning flash–I see it,

sky-ward road. And the blood bursts--my blood !-my I daughter's blood!

Sing to the Lord ! for her in Beauty's prime Off_let me loose. Officer. Where goest thou ?

Snatch'd from this wintery earth's ungenial Call. To the Christian,


in the eternal spring of Paradise to To learn the faith in which my daughter died,

bloom; And follow her as quickly as I may.

For her the world display'd its brightest

treasure, Olybius, Macer, and the rest. And the airs panted with the songs of Olyb. Macer! is this thy faithful ser

pleasure. vice ?

Before earth’s throne she chose the lowly Macer.

tomb, So rapid

The vale of tears with willing footsteps trod, olub. Not a word ! Thou think'st I'll Bearing her Cross with thee, incarnate Son stoop

of God! To dash thee to the earth_But I'm so sick Of this accursed pomp, I will not use Sing to the Lord ! it is not shed in vain, Its privilege of vengeance.

The blood of martyrs ! from its freshening Fatal trappings

rain Of proud authority, that like the robe Highsprings the Church like some fountOf Nessus shine and burn into the en shadowing palm ; trails !

The nations crowd beneath its branching Supremacy ! whose great prerogative

shade, Is to be blasted by superior misery! Of its green leaves are kingly diadems No more will I possess the fatal power

made, Of murdering those I love. All-ruling And wrapt within its deep embosoming sceptre !

calm That wert mine instrument of bloodshed, Earth sinks to slumber like the breezeless down!

deep, Mine hand shall never grasp thee more. And war's tempestuous vultures fold their Vopiscus,

wings and sleep. Assume the vacant Prefect's seat, and be Curst like myself with sway-I cannot Sing to the Lord ! no more the Angels fly wish thee

Far in the bosom of the stainless sky A doom more hateful

The sound of fierce licentious sacrifice. Who comes here? From shrined alcove, and stately pedestal, Officer.

Great Prefect! The marble Gods in cumbrous ruin fall, - The enchantress Margarita by her death Headless in dust the awe of nations lies; Hath wrought upon the changeful popu. Jove's thunder crumbles in his mouldering lace,

hand, That they cry loudly on the Christian's And mute as sepulchres the hymnless temGod.

ples stand.


Sing to the Lord ! from damp prophetic splendour of art and nature, and a cave

heart which is capable of being rouNo more the loose-hair'd Sybils burst and sed by the trumpet-note of passion. rave; .

He has also an ear delicately susNor watch the augurs pale the wander.

ceptible to the charms of harmony; ing bird : No more on hill or in the murky wood,

and, in a word, he possesses many of Mid frantic shout and dissonant music

the finest elements which can enter inrude,

to the composition of a poet. But he In human tones are wailing victims must not stop here, as he seems but heard;

too likely to do: He must not listen Nor fathers by the reeking altar stone to the harpings of partiality and praise, Cowl their dark heads t'escape their child. until his spirit is quite asleep under ren's dying groan.

their fascinating influences. He must

look more abroad over the world, and Sing to the Lord ! no more the dead are still more needful, he must look deeper laid

within himself. He must consider In cold despair beneath the cypress shade, To sleep the eternal sleep, that knows

calmly and leisurely what literature is no morn :

—what has been done-what remains There, eager still to burst death's brazen to be done—what can be done-and bands,

having opened some new field for The Angel of the Resurrection stands ; himself, he must give himself like a • While, on its own immortal pinions man to its cultivation. borne,

If he proceeds, as he has hitherto Following the Breaker of the emprisoning been doing, he will never be any thing tomb,

more than the Oxford Professor of PoeForth springs the exulting soul, and shakes try. If he does himself justice, he may away its gloom.

very probably, but not very easily, win Sing to the Lord ! the desert rocks break

to himself a lasting place among the

true poets of England. out, And the throng'd cities, in one gladdening

It is no doubt a very honourable shout;

thing to be respected and admired in The farthest shores by pilgrim step es.

one of the first universities in the plored;

world; but Mr Milman ought to reSpread all your wings, ye winds, and waft collect, that Mr Hayley was just as around,

much the idol of Commoners' and FelEven to the starry cope's pale waping low-commoners' worship, thirty years bound,

ago, as he himself is now. Even LaEarth's universal homage to the Lord; dy Hervey, the clever, sensible Lady Lift up thine head, imperial Capitol,

Hervey, talks, in one of her admirable Proud on thy height to see the banner'd letters of meeting with a young gen. cross unroll.

tleman destined to be “ the Pope, or Sing to the Lord! when Time itself shall perhaps something better, of the age;" cease,

and this sort of cant rung from one And final Ruin's desolating peace

side of England to the other, until Mr . Enwrap this wide and restless world of Hayley died, and his works followed man ;

him. Mr Milman lives in another When the Judge rides upon the enthroning

sort of age from that in which Haywind,

ley appeared ; but although we have And o'er all generations of mankind

no doubt he is a man of higher naEternal Vengeance waves its winnowing tural powers than Mr Hayley, we

fan ; To vast Infinity's remotest space,

are quite certain, that thirty years · While ages run their everlasting race,

hence he will just be as little thought Shall all the Beatific Hosts prolong,

of, even at Oxford, as Mr Hayley is · Wide as the glory of the Lamb, the Lamb's now, unless he do really take in kindtriumphant song !

ness what is meant both kindly and

earnestly, and avoid coming before the The author of these verses has un- public of England again, until he has questionably a fine eye for external something to bring with him, which

• What does our correspondent mean by “ admirable letters?" If he had bestowed the epithet “ admirable" on the notes of Lady Hervey's editor, we should have agreed with him.-C. N.

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