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Philosophy and science, and the springs
Of wonder, and the wisdom of the world,
I have essay'd, and in my mind there is
A power to make these subject to itself-
But they avail not: I have done men good,
And I have met with good even among men-
But this avail'd not: I have had my foes,
And none have baffled, many

fallen before me
But this avail'd not:-Good, or evil, life,
Powers, passions, all I see in other beings,
Have been to me as rain unto the sands,
Since that all-nameless hour. I have no dread,
And feel the curse to have no natural fear,
Nor fluttering throb, that beats with hopes or wishes,
Or lurking love of something on the earth.-
Now to

my
task.

Mysterious Agency!,
Ye spirits of the unbounded Universe !
Whom I have sought in darkness and in light-
Ye, who do compass earth about, and dwell
In subtler essenceye, to whom the tops
Of mountains inaccessible are haunts,
And earth's and ocean's caves familiar things-

.

I call upon ye by the written charm
Which gives me power upon you-Rise! appear !

[A pause.

They come not yet.-Now by the voice of him
Who is the first among you—by this sign,
Which makes you tremble—by the claims of him
Who is undying --Rise ! appear !Appear !

[A pause.

If it be so.—Spirits of earth and air,
Ye shall not thus elude me: by a power,
Deeper than all yet urged, a tyrant-spell,
Which had its birthplace in a star condemn’d,
The burning wreck of a demolish'd world,
A wandering hell in the eternal space;
By the strong curse which is upon my soul,
The thought which is within me and around me,
I do compel ye to my will.- Appear!
[A star is seen at the darker end of the gallery; it is

stationary; and a voice is heard singing:]

FIRST SPIRIT.

Mortal! to thy bidding bow'd,
From my mansion in the cloud,

cland

Which the breath of twilight builds,
And the summer's sun-set gilds
With the azure and vermilion,
Which is mix'd for my pavilion ;
Though thy quest may be forbidden,
On a star-beam I have ridden;
To thine adjuration bow'd,
Mortal—be thy wish avow'd !

Voice of the SECOND SPIRIT.

Iraunkan

Mont Blanc is the monarch of mountains,

They crown'd him long ago
On a throne of rocks, in a robe of clouds,

With a diadem of snow.
Around his waist are forests braced,

The Avalanche in his hand;
But ere it fall, that thundering ball
Must
pause

for my command.
The Glacier's cold and restless mass

Moves onward day by day;
But I am he who bids it

pass,
Or with its ice delay.

I am the spirit of the place,

Could make the mountain bow And quiver to his cavern’d base —

And what with me wouldst Thou?

Voice of the THIRD SPIRIT.

In the blue depth of the waters,

Where the wave hath no strife,
Where the wind is a stranger,

And the sea-snake hath life,
Where the Mermaid is decking
Her
green

hair with shells;
Like the storm on the surface

Came the sound of thy spells;
O'er my calm Hall of Coral

The deep echo roll'd—
To the Spirit of Ocean

Thy wishes unfold !

FOURTH SPIRIT.

Where the slumbering earthquake

Lies pillow'd on fire,
And the lakes of bitumen

Rise boilingly higher ;

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My dwelling is the shadow of the night,
Why doth thy magic torture me with light?

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