I judge thee by thy mates;
It is for God to judge thee as thou art.
I see thee purple with the blood of Rome;
Take mine, 't is all thou e'er shalt have of me!
And here, upon the marble of this temple,
Where the baptismal font baptised me God's,
I offer him a blood less holy

But not less pure (pure as it left me then,
A redeem'd infant) than the holy water
The saints have sanctified!

[OLIMPIA waves her hand to ARNOLD with disdain, and dashes herself on the pavement from the Altar.

ARNOLD.

Eternal God!

I feel thee now! Help! help! She's gone.

CESAR (approaches).

Thou say'st it? Then 't is truth.

CESAR.

You do me rightThe devil speaks truth much oftener than he 's deem'd : He hath an ignorant audience. ARNOLD (without attending to him).

Yes! her heart beats.

Alas! that the first beat of the only heart
I ever wish'd to beat with mine, should vibrate
To an assassin's pulse.

CESAR.

A sage reflection,

But somewhat late i' the day. Where shall we bear her? I say she lives.

ARNOLD.

And will she live?

CESAR.

As much

As dust can.

ARNOLD.

Then she is dead!

CESAR.

Is yet within her breast, and may revive.
Count! count! I am your servant in all things,
And this is a new office:-'t is not oft

I am employ'd in such; but you perceive
How staunch a friend is what you call a fiend.
On earth you have often only fiends for friends;
Now I desert not mine. Soft! bear her hence,
The beautiful half-clay, and nearly spirit!
I am almost enamour'd of her, as
Of old the angels of her earliest sex.

Thou!

ARNOLD.

The morning-star of all the flowers,

The pledge of daylight's lengthen'd hours; Nor, 'midst the roses, e'er forget

The virgin, virgin violet.

Enter CESAR.

CAESAR (singing).

The wars are all over,

Our swords are all idle,

The steed bites the bridle,

The casque 's on the wall.

There's rest for the rover;

But his armour is rusty,

And the veteran grows crusty,

As he yawns in the hall.

He drinks-but what 's drinking?

A mere pause from thinking!

No bugle awakes him with life-and-death call.

Chorus.

But the hound bayeth loudly,

The boar 's in the wood,

And the falcon longs proudly

To spring from her hood.

On the wrist of the noble,

She sits like a crest,

And the air is in trouble

With birds from their nest.

CESAR.

Oh! shadow of glory!

Dim image of war!

But the chase hath no story,

Her hero no star,

Since Nimrod, the founder

Of empire and chase,
Who made the woods wonder,
And quake for their race.

When the lion was young,

In the pride of his might,

Then 't was sport for the strong

To embrace him in fight;

To go forth, with a pine

For a spear, 'gainst the mammoth,

Or strike through the ravine

At the foaming behemoth;

While man was in stature

As towers in our time, The first-born of Nature, And, like her, sublime!

Chorus.

But the wars are over,
The spring is come;
The bride and her lover

lave sought their home:

They are happy, and we rejoice;
Let their hearts have an echo in every voice!

[Exeunt the Peasantry, singing.

AHOLIBAМАН.

So do I, but not with fear

Of aught save their delay.

ANAH.

My sister, though

I love Azaziel more than-oh, too much!
What was I going to say? my heart grows impious.

AHOLIBAMAH.

And where is the impiety of loving Celestial natures?

ANAH.

But, Aholibamah,

I love our God less since his angel loved me: This cannot be of good; and though I know not That I do wrong, I feel a thousand fears Which are not ominous of right.

AHOLIBAМАН.

Then wed thee

Unto some son of clay, and toil and spin !
There 's Japhet loves thee well, hath loved thee long;

Marry, and bring forth dust!

ANAH.

I should have loved

Azaziel not less were he mortal: yet

I am glad he is not. I cannot outlive him.
And when I think that his immortal wings

Will one day hover o'er the sepulchre

Of the poor child of clay which so adored him, As he adores the Highest, death becomes

Less terrible; but yet I pity him ;

His grief will be of ages, or at least

Mine would be such for him, were I the seraph, And he the perishable.

AHOLIBAΜΑΗ.

Rather say,

That he will single forth some other daughter Of earth, and love her as he once loved Anah.

ANAH.

Oh! think of her who holds thee dear!
And though she nothing is to thee,
Yet think that thou art all to her.
Thou canst not tell, and never be
Such pangs decreed to aught save me,
The bitterness of tears.
Eternity is in thine years,
Unborn, undying beauty in thine eyes :
With me thou canst not sympathize,
Except in love, and there thou must
Acknowledge that more loving dust
Ne'er wept beneath the skies.
Thou walk'st thy many worlds, thou see'st
The face of Him who made thee great,

The archangels, said to be seven in number.

As He hath made me of the least

Of those cast out from Eden's gate :

Yet, seraph dear!

Oh hear!

For thou hast loved me, and I would not die
Until I know what I must die in knowing,

That thou forget'st in thine eternity

Her whose heart death could not keep from o'erflowing

For thee, immortal essence as thou art!

Great is their love who love in sin and fear;

And such I feel are waging in my heart

A war unworthy: to an Adamite

Forgive, my seraph! that such thoughts appear.

For sorrow is our element;

Delight

An Eden kept afar from sight,

Though sometimes with our visions blent.

The hour is near

Which tells me we are not abandon'd quite.

Appear! appear!

Seraph!

My own Azaziel! be but here,

And leave the stars to their own light.

AHOLIBAMAH.

Samiasa!

Wheresoe'er

Thou rulest in the upper air

Or warring with the spirits who may dare

Dispute with Him

Who made all empires, empire; or recalling
Some wandering star which shoots through the abyss,
Whose tenants, dying while their world is falling,
Share the dim destiny of clay in this;
Or joining with the inferior cherubim,
Thou deignest to partake their hymn-

Samiasa!

I call thee, I await thee, and I love thee.
Many worship thee that will I not:
If that thy spirit down to mine may move thee,
Descend and share my lot!

Though I be form'd of clay,
And thou of beams

More bright than those of day
On Eden's streams,

Thine immortality cannot repay
With love more warm than mine
My love. There is a ray

In me, which, though forbidden yet to shine,
I feel was lighted at thy God's and thine.
It may be hidden long: death and decay
Our mother Eve bequeath'd us-but my heart
Defies it: though this life must pass away,
Is that a cause for thee and me to part?

Thou art immortal-so am I: I feel,
I feel my immortality o'ersweep

All pains, all tears, all time, all fears, and peal

Like the eternal thunders of the deep,

Into my ears this truth- thou livest for ever!>>>

But if it be in joy,

I know not, nor would know;

That secret rests with the Almighty giver

Who folds in clouds the fonts of bliss and woe, But thee and me He never can destroy; Change us He may, but not o'erwhelm; we are Of as eternal essence, and must war