XV. Heart of the Universe! whose life is fire: Whose pulse is earthquake, from whose breast are rolled Those flames in which shall penal earth expire; Whose scathing robe, the Lava's burning fold, Whose armèd hand the thunderbolt doth hold! Whose Voice is as the trump that wakes to doom; Creator and Destroyer! who hath told What world of life lies buried in thy womb? What Mammoth-wrecks are sunk in thy all-blasting tomb? XVI. But now, while gazing on thee, I arrest How vestal Nature even to thy cime, Hath sprinkled round thy breast, as she would hide, Thy desolation-flowers from every clime! As if she thus would soften, not deride, Thy images of human death that speak to human pride. XVII. On to the ascent; hark!-how the hollow ground Reverberates beneath the sullen tread: 'Tis HERCULANEUM in her sleep profound! All life-all joy-the living on the dead!- Yea, for our fellow-men the tear doth start; We feel great Nature's ties, and own our natural part. XVIII. But the Scene changes, and is left behind, Like an enchanting dream: the vine expires: The Silence tells that we are nearing now The subterranean Palace of the Fires! Lo-how above, its awful front doth show Yon far cloud-cleaving Cone its pale and wrathful brow, XIX. Frowning down on ye, like the Form of Death, Stopped in full tide, yet scathing to the last! Nor flower nor blade of grass hath ever grown O'er the Life whelmed beneath-scorched-blasted-and unknown. XX. Nature! thy olden curse thou dost inherit Here: withered-lightning-scathed-and earthquake riven; As if had passed God's ministering Spirit, In his avenging hand the burning levin: To mark with delegated fires from heaven A Cain-like stamp upon yon mountain's brow! As if it were the abode of souls unshriven By fiery ordeal: the place of woe Of the damned doomed to see the joys they must forego; XXI. Beholding in their agony from far, The Paradise they have for ever lost; Even thus, appearing like a distant Star, The Cloud-like mountains round her like a host, Yon Naples, shrined as in a nether sphere! The Anatomy of Earth stretched on her bier, Torched by the Sun, whose rays through ghost-like vapours peer. XXII. Spirit of Desolation! here, thou art A Presence, seen and felt all palpably : Thou, that stand'st here aloof, and draw'st a high Of life, and death, and ruin :-oh! what rest, What change could heal thy Mountain's thunder-split ten breast? XXIII. Sisyphian toil!-the ascent, at last, is crowned: The Central Pit-the Portal to the Halls While, rapidly mounting from yon subterranean door, XXIV. Rushing up wildly from the depths beneath, As if Night's blackest banners were unfurled : Swept on the Wind's wings to the nether world, |