Of my mind overworn. The earth's grown wicked,
And many signs and portents have proclaim'd
A change at hand, and an o'erwhelming doom
To perishable beings. Oh, my Anah !
When the dread hour denounced shall open wide
The fountains of the deep, how mightest thou
Have lain within this bosom, folded from
The elements; this bosom, which in vain
Hath beat for thee, and then will beat more vainly,
While thine-Oh, God! at least remit to her
Thy wrath for she is pure amidst the failing
As a star in the clouds, which cannot quench,
Although they obscure it for an hour. My Anah!
How would I have adored thee, but thou wouldst
not;

And still would I redeem thee -see thee live
When ocean is earth's grave, and, unopposed
By rock or shallow, the leviathan,

Lord of the shoreless sea and watery world,
Shall wonder at his boundlessness of realm.

[Exit JAPHET.

Enter NOAH and SHEM.

Noah. Where is thy brother Japhet?
Shem.
He went forth,
According to his wont, to meet with Irad,
He said; but, as I fear, to bend his steps
Towards Anah's tents, round which he hovers nightly,
Like a dove round and round its pillaged nest;
Or else he walks the wild up to the cavern
Which opens to the heart of Ararat.

Noah. What doth he there? It is an evil spot
Upon an earth all evil; for things worse
Than even wicked men resort there: he
Still loves this daughter of a fated race,
Although he could not wed her if she loved him,
And that she doth not. Oh, the unhappy hearts
Of men that one of my blood, knowing well
The destiny and evil of these days,
And that the hour approacheth, should indulge
In such forbidden yearnings! Lead the way;
He must be sought for!

Shem.

Go not forward, father:

I will seek Japhet.

Noah. Do not fear for me: All evil things are powerless on the man Selected by Jehovah. — Let us on.

Which seems to lead into a lower world,

Shall have its depths search'd by the sweeping wave,
And dolphins gambol in the lion's den!

And man- Oh, men my fellow-beings! Who
Shall weep above your universal grave.

Save I? Who shall be left to weep? My kinsmen,
Alas! what am I better than ye are,

That I must live beyond ye? Where shall be
The pleasant places where I thought of Anah
While I had hope? or the more savage haunts,
Scarce less beloved, where I despair'd for her?
And can it be !-Shall yon exulting peak,
Whose glittering top is like a distant star,
Lie low beneath the boiling of the deep?
No more to have the morning sun break forth,
And scatter back the mists floating folds
From its tremendous brow? no more to have
Day's broad orb drop behind its head at even,
Leaving it with a crown of many hues ?

No more to be the beacon of the world,
For angels to alight on, as the spot

Nearest the stars? And can those words "no more
Be meant for thee, for all things, save for us,
And the predestined creeping things reserved
By my sire to Jehovah's bidding? May

He preserve them, and I not have the power
To snatch the loveliest of earth's daughters from
A doom which even some serpent, with his mate,
Shall 'scape to save his kind to be prolong'd,
To hiss and sting through some emerging world,
Reeking and dank from out the slime, whose ooze
Shall slumber o'er the wreck of this until
The salt morass subside into a sphere
Beneath the sun, and be the monument,
The sole and undistinguish'd sepulchre,
Of yet quick myriads of all life? How much
Breath will be still'd at once! All-beauteous world!
So young, so mark'd out for destruction, I
With a cleft heart look on thee day by day,

And night by night, thy number'd days and nights:
I cannot save thee, cannot save even her
Whose love had made me love thee more; but as
A portion of thy dust, I cannot think
Upon thy coming doom without a feeling
Such as-Oh God! and canst thou-[He pauses.

Japh. By all that earth holds holiest, speak!
Spirit (laughs).

Japh. By the approaching deluge! by the earth
Which will be strangled by the ocean! by
The deep which will lay open all her fountains!
The heaven which will convert her clouds to seas,
And the Omnipotent who makes and crushes!
Thou unknown, terrible, and indistinct,
Yet awful Thing of Shadows, speak to me !
Why dost thou laugh that horrid laugh?
Spirit.

Japh. For earth and all her Spirit. Ha ha ha! [Spirit vanishes. Japh. How the fiend mocks the tortures of a world, The coming desolation of an orb,

On which the sun shall rise and warm no life!

Ha! ha!

Why weep'st thou ? children.

How the earth sleeps! and all that in it is
Sleep too upon the very eve of death!

Why should they wake to meet it? What is here,
Which look like death in life, and speak like things
Born ere this dying world? They come like clouds!
[Various Spirits pass from the cavern.
Rejoice!
The abhorred race

Spirit.

Which could not keep in Eden their high place,

But listen'd to the voice

Of knowledge without power,
Are nigh the hour

Of death!

Not slow, not single, not by sword, nor sorrow,
Nor years, nor heart-break, nor time's sapping
motion,
Shall they drop off.

Behold their last to-morrow!
Earth shall be ocean!
And no breath,

Save of the winds, be on the unbounded wave!
Angels shall tire their wings, but find no spot:
Not even a rock from out the liquid grave

Shall lift its point to save,

Or show the place where strong Despair hath died, After long looking o'er the ocean wide

For the expected ebb which cometh not:

All shall be void,

Destroy'd !

Another element shall be the lord
Of life, and the abhorr'd

Children of dust be quench'd; and of each hue
Of earth nought left but the unbroken blue;
And of the variegated mountain
Shall nought remain

Unchanged, or of the level plain;

Cedar and pine shall lift their tops in vain : All merged within the universal fountain, Man, earth, and fire, shall die,

Hence haste!

Back to your inner caves! Until the waves

And sea and sky

Look vast and lifeless in the eternal eye.
Upon the foam

Who shall erect a home ?

Japh. (coming forward). My sire!
Earth's seed shall expire;
Only the evil shall be put away
From day.

Avaunt ye exulting demons of the waste! Who howl your hideous joy

When God destroys whom you dare not destroy;

Shall search you in your secret place,
And drive your sullen race
Forth, to be roll'd upon the tossing winds
In restless wretchedness along all space!
Spirit.
Son of the saved!

When thou and thine have braved
The wide and warring element;

When the great barrier of the deep is rent,
Shall thou and thine be good or happy?—No!
Thy new world and new race shall be of woe-
Less goodly in their aspect, in their years
Less than the glorious giants, who
Yet walk the world in pride,

The Sons of Heaven by many a mortal bride. Thine shall be nothing of the past, save tears. And art thou not ashamed

Thus to survive,

And eat, and drink, and wive ?
With a base heart so far subdued and tamed,
As even to hear this wide destruction named,
Without such grief and courage, as should rather
Bid thee await the world-dissolving wave,
Than seek a shelter with thy favour'd father,

And build thy city o'er the drown'd Earth's

grave?

Who would outlive their kind,

Except the base and blind?

Mine
Hateth thine,

As of a different order in the sphere,
But not our own.
There is not one who hath not left a throne
Vacant in heaven to dwell in darkness here,
Rather than see his mates endure alone.
Go, wretch and give

A life like thine to other wretches- live!
And when the annihilating waters roar
Above what they have done,
Envy the giant patriarchs then no more,
And scorn thy sire as the surviving one!
Thyself for being his son !

Chorus of Spirits issuing from the cavern. Rejoice!

No more the human voice

Shall vex our joys in middle air

With prayer;

No more

Shall they adore;

And we, who ne'er for ages have adored
The prayer-exacting Lord,

To whom the omission of a sacrifice
Is vice;

We, we shall view the deep's salt sources pour'd
Until one element shall do the work

Of all in chaos; until they,

The creatures proud of their poor clay, Shall perish, and their bleached bones shall lurk In caves, in dens, in clefts of mountains, where The Deep shall follow to their latest lair;

Where even the brutes, in their despair, Shall cease to prey on man and on each other, And the striped tiger shall lie down to die Beside the lamb, as though he were his brother; Till all things shall be as they were, Silent and uncreated, save the sky: While a brief truce

Is made with Death, who shall forbear

Where man no more can fall as once he fell, And even the very demons shall do well! Spirits. And when shall take effect this wondrous spell ?

Japh. When the Redeemer cometh; first in pain,
And then in glory.
Spirit. Meantime still struggle in the mortal chain,
Till earth wax hoary;
War with yourselves, and hell, and heaven, in vain,
Until the clouds look gory

With the blood reeking from each battle plain;
New times, new climes, new arts, new men: but
still,
The same old tears, old crimes, and oldest ill,
Shall be amongst your race in different forms;
But the same moral storms
Shall oversweep the future, as the waves
In a few hours the glorious giants' graves.

1

Chorus of Spirits.
Brethren, rejoice!
Mortal, farewell!

Hark! hark! already we can hear the voice
Of growing ocean's gloomy swell;

The winds, too, plume their piercing wings;
The clouds have nearly fill'd their springs;
The fountains of the great deep shall be broken,
And heaven set wide her windows 2; while man-
kind
View, unacknowledged, each tremendous token
Still, as they were from the beginning, blind.
We hear the sound they cannot hear, [sphere;
The mustering thunders of the threatening
Yet a few hours their coming is delay'd-
Their flashing banners, folded still on high,
Yet undisplay'd,

Save to the Spirit's all-pervading eye.
Howl! howl! oh Earth!
Thy death is nearer than thy recent birth:
Tremble, ye mountains, soon to shrink below

The ocean's overflow!

The wave shall break upon your cliffs; and shells, The little shells, of ocean's least things be Deposed where now the eagle's offspring dwells

How shall he shriek o'er the remorseless sea!

"And there were giants in the earth in those days, and after; mighty men, which were of old, men of renown.". Genesis.

So perish all

These petty foes of Heaven who shrink from hell!
[The Spirits disappear, soaring upwards.
Japh. (solus). God hath proclaim'd the destiny of
earth;

My father's ark of safety hath announced it;
The very demons shriek it from their caves;
The scroll 3 of Enoch prophesied it long
In silent books, which, in their silence, say
More to the mind than thunder to the ear:
And yet men listen'd not, nor listen; but
Walk darkling to their doom; which, though so nigh,
Shakes them no more in their dim disbelief,
Than their last cries shall shake the Almighty purpose,
Or deaf obedient ocean, which fulfils it.

No sign yet hangs its banner in the air;
The clouds are few, and of their wonted texture,

The sun will rise upon the earth's last day
As on the fourth day of creation, when

God said unto him, "Shine!" and he broke forth
Into the dawn, which lighted not the yet
Unform'd forefather of mankind- - but roused
Before the human orison the earlier
Made and far sweeter voices of the birds,
Which in the open firmament of heaven
Have wings like angels, and like them salute
Heaven first each day before the Adamites !
Their matins now draw nigh-the east is kindling-
And they will sing! and day will break! Both near,
So near the awful close! For these must drop
Their outworn pinions on the deep; and day,
After the bright course of a few brief morrows, —
Ay, day will rise; but upon what?-a chaos,
Which was ere day; and which, renew'd, makes time
Nothing for, without life, what are the hours?

broken up; and the windows of heaven were opened."— Ibid.

No more to dust than is eternity
Unto Jehovah, who created both.
Without him, even eternity would be
A void without man, time, as made for man,
Dies with man, and is swallow'd in that deep
Which has no fountain; as his race will be
Devour'd by that which drowns his infant world.
What have we here? Shapes of both earth and air?
No-all of heaven, they are so beautiful.
I cannot trace their features; but their forms,
How lovelily they move along the side

Of the grey mountain, scattering its mist!
And after the swart savage spirits, whose
Infernal immortality pour'd forth

Enter SAMIASa, Azaziei, ANAH, and AнOLIBAMAH. Anah. Japhet!

Sam.

A son of Adam!

Aza. What doth the earth-born here, While all his race are slumbering?

Lo!

Japh.
Angel! what
Dost thou on earth when thou shouldst be on high?
Aza. Know'st thou not, or forget'st thou, that a part
Of our great function is to guard thine earth?

Japh. But all good angels have forsaken earth,
Which is condemn'd; nay, even the evil fly
The approaching chaos. Anah! Anah! my
In vain, and long, and still to be beloved!
Why walk'st thou with this spirit, in those hours
When no good spirit longer lights below?

Anah. Japhet, I cannot answer thee; yet, yet
Forgive me

Japh. May the Heaven, which soon no more Will pardon, do so! for thou art greatly tempted. Aho. Back to thy tents, insulting son of Noah ! We know thee not.

Japh. The hour may come when thou May'st know me better; and thy sister know Me still the same which I have ever been.

Sam. Son of the patriarch, who hath ever been Upright before his God, whate'er thy gifts, And thy words seem of sorrow, mix'd with wrath, How have Azaziel, or myself, brought on thee Wrong?

Japh. Wrong! the greatest of all wrongs; but thou Say'st well, though she be dust, I did not, could not, Deserve her. Farewell, Anah! I have said That word so often! but now say it, ne'er To be repeated. Angel! or whate'er Thou art, or must be soon, hast thou the power To save this beautiful— these beautiful Children of Cain?

Aza.

From what?

Japh. And is it so, That ye too know not? Angels! angels! ye Have shared man's sin, and, it may be, now must Partake his punishment; or, at the least, My sorrow.

Sam. Sorrow! I ne'er thought till now To hear an Adamite speak riddles to me. Juph. And hath not the Most High expounded them? Then ye are lost, as they are lost.

I would resign the greater remnant of
This little life of mine, before one hour
Of thine eternity should know a pang.

Japh. It is for him, then! for the seraph thou
Hast left me! That is nothing, if thou hast not
Left thy God too! for unions like to these,
Between a mortal and an immortal, cannot
Be happy or be hallow'd. We are sent
Upon the earth to toil and die; and they
Are made to minister on high unto

The Highest: but if he can save thee, soon
The hour will come in which celestial aid
Alone can do so.

Anah. Ah! he speaks of death. Sam. Of death to us! and those who are with us! But that the man seems full of sorrow, I Could smile.

Japh. I grieve not for myself, nor fear; I am sare, not for my own deserts, but those Of a well-doing sire, who hath been found Righteous enough to save his children. Would His power was greater of redemption! or That by exchanging my own life for hers, Who could alone have made mine happy, she, The last and loveliest of Cain's race, could share The ark which shall receive a remnant of The seed of Seth!

Aho. And dost thou think that we, With Cain's, the eldest born of Adam's, blood Warm in our veins, strong Cain ! who was begotten In Paradise, would mingle with Seth's children? Seth, the last offspring of old Adam's dotage? No, not to save all earth, were earth in peril! Our race hath always dwelt apart from thine From the beginning, and shall do so ever.

Japh. I did not speak to thee, Aholibamah! Too much of the forefather whom thou vauntest Has come down in that haughty blood which springs From him who shed the first, and that a brother's! But thou, my Anah! let me call thee mine, Albeit thou art not; 'tis a word I cannot Part with, although I must from thee. My Anah! Thou who dost rather make me dream that Abel Had left a daughter, whose pure pious race Survived in thee, so much unlike thou art The rest of the stern Cainites, save in beauty, For all of them are fairest in their favourAho. (interrupting him). And wouldst thou have her

like our father's foe

Didst seem to glory in him, nor to shrink From what he had done.

Aho. He was our fathers' father; The eldest born of man, the strongest, bravest, And most enduring: - Shall I blush for him From whom we had our being? Look upon Our race; behold their stature and their beauty, Their courage, strength, and length of days Japh. They are number'd. Aho. Be it so! but while yet their hours endure, I glory in my brethren and our fathers.

Japh. My sire and race but glory in their God, Anah! and thou?

Anah.

Whate'er our God decrees,

The God of Seth as Cain, I must obey,
And will endeavour patiently to obey.
But could I dare to pray in his dread hour
Of universal vengeance (if such should be),
It would not be to live, alone exempt

Of all my house. My sister! oh, my sister!
What were the world, or other worlds, or all
The brightest future, without the sweet past-
Thy love-my father's-all the life, and all
The things which sprang up with me, like the stars,
Making my dim existence radiant with
Soft lights which were not mine? Aholibamah !
Oh! if there should be mercy- -seek it, find it:
I abhor death, because that thou must die.

Aho. What, hath this dreamer, with his father's ark,
The bugbear he hath built to scare the world,
Shaken my sister? Are we not the loved
Of seraphs? and if we were not, must we
Cling to a son of Noah for our lives?
Rather than thus-But the enthusiast dreams
The worst of dreams, the fantasies engender'd
By hopeless love and heated vigils. Who
Shall shake these solid mountains, this firm earth,
And bid those clouds and waters take a shape
Distinct from that which we and all our sires
Have seen them wear on their eternal way?
Who shall do this?

Japh. He whose one word produced them. Aho. Who heard that word! Japh. The universe, which leap'd To life before it. Ah! smilest thou still in scorn? Turn to thy seraphs: if they attest it not, They are none.

Aho. 'Tis said so.

Japh.

Sam.

Aholibamah, own thy God!

Aho. I have ever hail'd our Maker, Samiasa, As thine, and mine: a God of love, not sorrow. Japh. Alas! what else is love but sorrow? Even He who made earth in love had soon to grieve Above its first and best inhabitants.

It is even so.

Enter NOAH and SHEM.

Noah. Japhet! What Dost thou here with these children of the wicked? Dread'st thou not to partake their coming doom?

Japh. Father, it cannot be a sin to seek To save an earth-born being; and behold, These are not of the sinful, since they have The fellowship of angels.

[In the original MS." Michael."-" I return you," says Lord Byron to Mr. Murray," the revise. I have softened the part to which Gifford objected, and changed the name of

I am

But man, and was not made to judge mankind,
Far less the sons of God; but as our God
Has deign'd to commune with me, and reveal
His judgments, I reply, that the descent
Of seraphs from their everlasting seat
Unto a perishable and perishing,
Even on the very eve of perishing, world,
Cannot be good.

Aza.

What! though it were to save ? Noah. Not ye in all your glory can redeem What he who made you glorious hath condemn'd. Were your immortal mission safety, 't would Be general, not for two, though beautiful; And beautiful they are, but not the less Condemn'd.

Oh, father! say it not.

Japh. Noah. Son! son! If that thou wouldst avoid their doom, forget That they exist: they soon shall cease to be; While thou shalt be the sire of a new world, And better.

Japh. Let me die with this, and them! Noah. Thou shouldst for such a thought, but shalt not; he

Who can redeems thee.

Sam. And why him and thee, More than what he, thy son, prefers to both? Noah. Ask him who made thee greater than myself And mine, but not less subject to his own Almightiness. And lo! his mildest and Least to be tempted messenger appears!

Enter RAPHAEL', the Archangel. Raph. Spirits! Whose seat is near the throne, What do ye here?

Is thus a seraph's duty to be shown, Now that the hour is near

When earth must be alone?

Return! Adore and burn

In glorious homage with the elected "seven,”
Your place is heaven.
Raphael!

Sam.
The first and fairest of the sons of God,
How long hath this been law,

That earth by angels must be left untrod?
Earth which oft saw

Jehovah's footsteps not disdain her sod!

Michael to Raphael, who was an angel of gentler syinpathies."

— Byron Letters, July 6. 1822.]