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“There are points from which we can command our life,
POETRY OF TERROR.
In what distant deeps or skies
Burned the fire of thine eyes ? HE works in rings, in magic rings of On what wings dare he aspire? chance:
What the hand dare seize the fire ? He knows that grand effects oft run askance,
And what shoulder, and what art, And so he prays to Nature, color
Could twist the sinews of thine queen.
And when thy heart began to beat, He works in chaoses, - you are no What dread hand? and what dread artist,
feet? You medium-man who power to write impartest;
What the hammer? what the chain? Suffice to know he loveth Chaos old,
In what furnace was thy brain ? Because than auglit created she's
What the anvil? what drearl grasp more hold:
Dare its deadly terror's clasp?
When the stars threw down their That many elements thusgot together
Spears, May struggle into light. —
And watered heaven with their tears, And she loves possibility, and hence
Did he smile his work to see? He goes far back into Confusion's
Did Ile, Who made the Lamb, make dance.
thee? So the old Temeraire, (ah England ! long
Tiger! Tiger! burning bright, That happiness shall live within In the forests of the night, thy song.)
What immortal hand or eye Lets natural ways rush through him; | Dare frame thy fearful symmetry? so may yoll,
WILLIAM BLAKE. If you have brain and strength and
dare to do. Believe me, there are ways of paint
THEA. ing things That are allied to the great Morn- | LEANING with parted lips, some ing's wings.
words she spake J. J. G. WILKINSON. In solemn tenor and deep organ
Some mourning words, which, in THE TIGER
our feeble tongue,
Would come in these like accents; Tiger! Tiger! burning bright,
O how frail In the forests of the night;
To that large utterance of the early What immortal hand or eye
Gods! Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
SONG OF THE PARCÆ. | So sang the dark sisters;
The old exile heareth
That terrible music WITHIN my ears resounds that an In caverns of darkness, – cient song,
Remembereth his children, Forgotten was it, and forgotten And shaketh his head. gladly, —
GOETHE: Trans. by Frothingham. Song of the Parcæ, which they shud
dering sang, When Tantalus fell from his golden
CRIME. They suffered with their noble | BETWEEN the acting of a dreadful friend; indignant
thing Their bosom was, and terrible their And the first motion, all the interim is song.
Like a phantasma, or a hideous To me and to my sisters, in our youth,
dream: The nurse would sing it; and I
The genius and the mortal instrumarked it well.
Are then in council; and the state 66 The Gods be your terror,
of man, Ye children of men!
Like to a little kingdom, suffers then They hold the dominion
The nature of an insurrection, In hands everlasting,
SHAKSPEARE: Julius Cæsar. All free to exert it
To beguile the time, As listeth their will.
Look like the time. “Let him fear them doubly
SHAKSPEARE: Macbeth. Whome'er they've exalted ! On crags and on cloud-piles The couches are planted
REMORSE. Around the gold tables.
METHOUGHT I heard a voice cry, “ Dissension arises;
“ Sleep no more! Then tumble the feasters,
Macbeth doth murder sleep," — the
innocent sleep, Reviled and dishonored,
Sleep that knits up the ravelled In gulfs of deep midnight;
sleeve of care, And look ever vainly
The death of each day's life, sore In fetters of darkness
labor's bath, For judgment that's just.
Balm of hurt minds, great nature's
second course, “ But they remain seated
Chief nourisher in life's feast, At feasts never failing
Still it cried, “ Sleep no more!” to Around the gold tables.
all the house: They stride at a footstep
“ Glamis hath murdered sleep; and From mountain to mountain;
therefore Cardor Through jaws of abysses
Shall sleep no more, Macbeth shall Steams towards them the breathing
sleep no more !" Of suffocate Titans,
SHAKSPEARE: Macbeth. Like offerings of incense, A light-rising vapor.
Is ripe for shaking, and the powers “They turn - the proud masters
above From whole generations
Put on their instruments.
WHEN we in our viciousness grow The once well-beloved,
hard, Still eloquent features
O misery on't! the wise gods seal our Of ancestor see."
In our own filth, drop our clear | And was embarked to cross to Burjudgments; make us
gundy; Adore our errors, laugh at us, while And in my company, my brother we strut
Gloster: To our confusion.
Who from nry cabin, tempted me to Antony and Cleopatra.
Upon the hatches: thence we looked I SEE men's judgments are
toward England, A parcel of their fortunes; and
And cited up a thousand heavy things outward
times, To draw the inward quality after
During the wars of York and Lanthem
caster To suffer all alike.
That had befallen us. As we paced Antony and Cleopatra, iii. sc. 2.
along Upon the giddy footing of the
hatches, The gods are just, and of our pleas
Methought that Gloster stumbled; ant vices Make instruments to scourge lls.
and, in falling,
Struck me, that thought to stay him, K. Lear.
Into the tumbling billows of the main. MERCIFUL Heaven!
O heaven! methought what pain it Thou rather, with thy sharp and
was to drown! sulphurous bolt
What dreadful noise of water in Split'st the unwedgeable and gnarled
inine ears! oak,
What sights of ugly death within Than the soft myrtle; - 0, but
mine eyes! man, proud man!
Methought I saw a thousand fearful Drest in a little brief authority,
wrecks; Most ignorant of what he's most A thousand men, that fishes gnawed assured,
upon; His glassy essence, — like an angry Wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps ape,
of pearl, Plays such fantastic tricks before Inestimable stones, unvalued jewels, high heaven,
All scattered in the bottom of the As make the angels weer.
sea. Measure for Measure. Some lay in dead men's skulls; and
in those holes
Where eyes did once inhabit, there CLARENCE'S DREAM.
(As 'twere in scorn of eyes) reflectClarence. -0), I have passed a
ing gems, miserable night,
That wooed the slimy bottom of the So full of fearful dreams, of ugly
And mocked the dead bones that lay That, as I am a Christian faithful
scattered by man,
Brak. - Had you such leisure in I would not spend another such a
the time of death
To gaze upon these secrets of the Though 'twere to buy a world of
deep? happy days;
Clar. – Methought I had: and So full of dismal terror was the
often did I strive time.
To yield the ghost: but still the enBrakenbury. -- What was your
vious flood dream, my lord ? I pray you, Kept in my soul, and would not let tell me.
it forth Clar. — Methought that I had bro To seek the empty, vast, and wanken from the Tower,