Souls who dare use their immortality--
Souls who dare look the Omnipotent tyrant in
His everlasting face, and tell him that
His evil is not good!
Souls who dare look the Omnipotent tyrant in
His everlasting face, and tell him that
His evil is not good!
Byron
Thou look'st almost a god; and----
_Lucifer_. I am none:
And having failed to be one, would be nought
Save what I am. He conquered; let him reign! 130
_Cain_. Who?
_Lucifer_. Thy Sire's maker--and the Earth's.
_Cain_. And Heaven's,
And all that in them is. So I have heard
His Seraphs sing; and so my father saith.
_Lucifer_. They say--what they must sing and say, on pain
Of being that which I am,--and thou art--
Of spirits and of men.
_Cain_. And what is that?
_Lucifer_.
Souls who dare use their immortality--
Souls who dare look the Omnipotent tyrant in
His everlasting face, and tell him that
His evil is not good! If he has made, 140
As he saith--which I know not, nor believe--
But, if he made us--he cannot unmake:
We are immortal! --nay, he'd _have_ us so,
That he may torture:--let him! He is great--
But, in his greatness, is no happier than
We in our conflict! Goodness would not make
Evil; and what else hath he made? But let him
Sit on his vast and solitary throne--
Creating worlds, to make eternity
Less burthensome to his immense existence 150
And unparticipated solitude;[99]
Let him crowd orb on orb: he is alone
Indefinite, Indissoluble Tyrant;
Could he but crush himself, 'twere the best boon
He ever granted: but let him reign on!
And multiply himself in misery!
Spirits and Men, at least we sympathise--
And, suffering in concert, make our pangs
Innumerable, more endurable,
By the unbounded sympathy of all 160
With all! But _He_! so wretched in his height,
So restless in his wretchedness, must still
Create, and re-create--perhaps he'll make[100]
One day a Son unto himself--as he
Gave you a father--and if he so doth,
Mark me! that Son will be a sacrifice!
_Cain_. Thou speak'st to me of things which long have swum
In visions through my thought: I never could
Reconcile what I saw with what I heard.
My father and my mother talk to me 170
Of serpents, and of fruits and trees: I see
The gates of what they call their Paradise
Guarded by fiery-sworded Cherubim,
Which shut them out--and me: I feel the weight
Of daily toil, and constant thought: I look
Around a world where I seem nothing, with
Thoughts which arise within me, as if they
Could master all things--but I thought alone
This misery was _mine_. My father is
Tamed down; my mother has forgot the mind 180
Which made her thirst for knowledge at the risk
Of an eternal curse; my brother is
A watching shepherd boy,[101] who offers up
The firstlings of the flock to him who bids
The earth yield nothing to us without sweat;[by]
My sister Zillah sings an earlier hymn
Than the birds' matins; and my Adah--my
Own and beloved--she, too, understands not
The mind which overwhelms me: never till
Now met I aught to sympathise with me. 190
'Tis well--I rather would consort with spirits.