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But, master, poet, who has done all this,
How didst thou 'scape the ruin I have met?
Didst thou, when nerving thee to this attempt,
Ne'er range thy mind's extent, as some wide hall,
Dazzled by shapes that filled its length with light,
Shapes clustered there to rule thee, not obey-
That will not wait thy summons, will not rise
Singly, nor when thy practised eye and hand
Can well transfer their loveliness, but crowd
By thee forever, bright to thy despair?

Didst thou ne'er gaze on each by turns, and ne'er
Resolve to single out one, though the rest
Should vanish, and to give that one, entire
In beauty, to the world; forgetting, so,
Its peers, whose number baffles mortal power?
And, this determined, wert thou ne'er seduced
By memories, and regrets, and passionate love,
To glance once more farewell? and did their eyes
Fasten thee, brighter and more bright, until
Thou couldst but stagger back unto their feet,

And laugh that man's applause or welfare once
Could tempt thee to forsake them? Or when years
Had passed, and still their love possessed thee wholly ;
When from without some murmur startled thee

Of darkling mortals, famished for one ray

Of thy so-hoarded luxury of light,

Didst thou ne'er strive even yet to break those spells,

And prove thou couldst recover and fulfil

Thy early mission, long ago renounced,

And, to that end, select some shape once more?
And did not mist-like influences, thick films,
Faint memories of the rest, that charmed so long
Thine eyes, float fast, confuse thee, bear thee off,
As whirling snow-drifts blind a man who treads
A mountain ridge, with guiding spear, through storm?
Say, though I fell, I had excuse to fall

Say, I was tempted sorely

Dear lord, Aprile's lord!

Par.

;

say but this,

Clasp me not thus,

Aprile!... That the truth should reach me thus !

We are weak dust. Nay, clasp not, or I faint!

Apr. My king! and envious thoughts could outrage thee! Lo, I forget my ruin, and rejoice

In thy success, as thou! Let our God's praise

Go bravely through the world at last! What care
Through me or thee? I feel thy breath. . . why, tears?
Tears in the darkness-and from thee to me?

Par. Love me henceforth, Aprile, while I learn
To love; and, merciful God, forgive us both!
We wake at length from weary dreams; but both
Have slept in fairy-land; though dark and drear
Appears the world before us, we no less
Wake with our wrists and ankles jewelled still.
I, too, have sought to KNOW as thou to LOVE-
Excluding love as thou refusedst knowledge.
Still thou hast beauty and I, power. We wake:
What penance canst devise for both of us?

Apr. I hear thee faintly. . . the thick darkness! Even

Thine eyes are hid. 'Tis as I knew: I speak,
And now I die. But I have seen thy face!
O, poet, think of me, and sing of me!

But to have seen thee, and to die so soon!

Par. Die not, Aprile: we must never part.

Are we not halves of one dissevered world,

Whom this strange chance unites once more? Part? never!

Till thou, the lover, know; and I, the knower,
Love-until both are saved. Aprile, hear!

We will accept our gains, and use them—now!
God, he will die upon my breast! Aprile!

Apr. To speak but once, and die! yet by his side. Hush! hush!

Ha! go you ever girt about

With phantoms, powers? I have created such,

But these seem real as I!

Par.

Through the accursed darkness?

Apr.

Whom can you see

Stay; I know,

I know them: who should know them well as I?

White brows, lit up with glory; poets all!

Par. Let him but live, and I have my reward! Apr. Yes; I see now— God is the PERFECT POET, Who in creation acts his own conceptions.

Shall man refuse to be aught less than God?
Man's weakness is his glory-for the strength
Which raises him to heaven and near God's self,
Came spite of it: God's strength his glory is,

For thence came with our weakness sympathy
Which brought God down to earth, a man like us.
Had you but told me this at first!... Hush! hush!
Par. Live! for my sake, because of my great sin,
To help my brain, oppressed by these wild words
And their deep import. Live! 'tis not too late :
I have a quiet home for us, and friends.

Michal shall smile on you . . . Hear you? Lean thus,

...

And breathe my breath: I shall not lose one word
Of all your speech-no little word, Aprile!

Apr. No, no.. Crown me? I am not one of you!

'Tis he, the king, you seek. I am not one . . .

Par. Give me thy spirit, at least! Let me love, too!

I have attained, and now I may depart.

III-PARACELSUS.

SCENE-A chamber in the house of Paracelsus at Basil. 1526.

PARACELSUS, FESTUS.

Par. Heap logs, and let the blaze laugh out!

True, true!

Fest.
'Tis very fit that all, time, chance, and change
Have wrought since last we sate thus, face to face,
And soul to soul—all cares, far-looking fears,
Vague apprehensions, all vain fancies bred
By your long absence, should be cast away,

Forgotten in this glad unhoped renewal

Of our affections.

Par.

Oh, omit not aught

Which witnesses your own and Michal's love!
I bade you not spare that! Forget alone
The honours and the glories, and the rest,
You seemed disposed to tell profusely out.
Fest. Nay, even your honours, in a sense,
The wondrous Paracelsus-Life's dispenser,
Fate's commissary, idol of the schools,

I wave:

And Courts, shall be no more than Aureole still—
Still Aureole and my friend, as when we parted
Some twenty years ago, and I restrained
As I best could the promptings of my spirit,
Which secretly advanced you, from the first,
To the preeminent rank which, since, your own
Adventurous ardour, nobly triumphing,

Has won for you.

Par.

Yes, yes; and Michal's face

Still wears that quiet and peculiar light,

Like the dim circlet floating round a pearl?

Fest. Just so.

Par.

And yet her calm sweet countenance, Though saintly, was not sad; for she would sing Alone... Does she still sing alone, bird-like, Not dreaming you are near? Her carols dropt In flakes through that old leafy bower built under The sunny wall at Würzburg, from her lattice Among the trees above, while I, unseen,

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