Where shall be
The pleasant places where I thought of Anah
While I had hope?
The pleasant places where I thought of Anah
While I had hope?
Byron
No; to the cavern of the Caucasus.
[_Exeunt_ NOAH _and_ SHEM.
SCENE III. --_The mountains. --A cavern,[144] and the rocks
of Caucasus_.
_Japh. _ (_solus_). Ye wilds, that look eternal; and thou cave,
Which seem'st unfathomable; and ye mountains,
So varied and so terrible in beauty;
Here, in your rugged majesty of rocks
And toppling trees that twine their roots with stone[145]
In perpendicular places, where the foot
Of man would tremble, could he reach them--yes,
Ye look eternal! Yet, in a few days,
Perhaps even hours, ye will be changed, rent, hurled
Before the mass of waters; and yon cave, 10
Which seems to lead into a lower world,
Shall have its depths searched by the sweeping wave,
And dolphins gambol in the lion's den!
And man----Oh, men! my fellow-beings! Who
Shall weep above your universal grave,
Save I? Who shall be left to weep? My kinsmen,
Alas! what am I better than ye are,
That I must live beyond ye?
Where shall be
The pleasant places where I thought of Anah
While I had hope? or the more savage haunts, 20
Scarce less beloved, where I despaired for her?
And can it be! --Shall yon exulting peak,
Whose glittering top is like a distant star,
Lie low beneath the boiling of the deep?
No more to have the morning sun break forth,
And scatter back the mists in floating folds
From its tremendous brow? no more to have
Day's broad orb drop behind its head at even,
Leaving it with a crown of many hues?
No more to be the beacon of the world, 30
For angels to alight on, as the spot
Nearest the stars? And can those words "_no more_"
Be meant for thee, for all things, save for us,
And the predestined creeping things reserved
By my sire to Jehovah's bidding? May
_He_ preserve _them_, and I _not_ have the power
To snatch the loveliest of earth's daughters from
A doom which even some serpent, with his mate,
Shall 'scape to save his kind to be prolonged,
To hiss and sting through some emerging world, 40
Reeking and dank from out the slime, whose ooze
Shall slumber o'er the wreck of this, until
The salt morass subside into a sphere
Beneath the sun, and be the monument,
The sole and undistinguished sepulchre,
Of yet quick myriads of all life? How much
Breath will be stilled at once! All beauteous world!
So young, so marked out for destruction, I
With a cleft heart look on thee day by day,
And night by night, thy numbered days and nights. 50
I cannot save thee, cannot save even her
Whose love had made me love thee more; but as
A portion of thy dust, I cannot think
Upon thy coming doom without a feeling
Such as--Oh God! and canst thou-- [_He pauses_.
[_A rushing sound from the cavern is heard, and shouts
of laughter--afterwards a Spirit passes_.
_Japh.
[_Exeunt_ NOAH _and_ SHEM.
SCENE III. --_The mountains. --A cavern,[144] and the rocks
of Caucasus_.
_Japh. _ (_solus_). Ye wilds, that look eternal; and thou cave,
Which seem'st unfathomable; and ye mountains,
So varied and so terrible in beauty;
Here, in your rugged majesty of rocks
And toppling trees that twine their roots with stone[145]
In perpendicular places, where the foot
Of man would tremble, could he reach them--yes,
Ye look eternal! Yet, in a few days,
Perhaps even hours, ye will be changed, rent, hurled
Before the mass of waters; and yon cave, 10
Which seems to lead into a lower world,
Shall have its depths searched by the sweeping wave,
And dolphins gambol in the lion's den!
And man----Oh, men! my fellow-beings! Who
Shall weep above your universal grave,
Save I? Who shall be left to weep? My kinsmen,
Alas! what am I better than ye are,
That I must live beyond ye?
Where shall be
The pleasant places where I thought of Anah
While I had hope? or the more savage haunts, 20
Scarce less beloved, where I despaired for her?
And can it be! --Shall yon exulting peak,
Whose glittering top is like a distant star,
Lie low beneath the boiling of the deep?
No more to have the morning sun break forth,
And scatter back the mists in floating folds
From its tremendous brow? no more to have
Day's broad orb drop behind its head at even,
Leaving it with a crown of many hues?
No more to be the beacon of the world, 30
For angels to alight on, as the spot
Nearest the stars? And can those words "_no more_"
Be meant for thee, for all things, save for us,
And the predestined creeping things reserved
By my sire to Jehovah's bidding? May
_He_ preserve _them_, and I _not_ have the power
To snatch the loveliest of earth's daughters from
A doom which even some serpent, with his mate,
Shall 'scape to save his kind to be prolonged,
To hiss and sting through some emerging world, 40
Reeking and dank from out the slime, whose ooze
Shall slumber o'er the wreck of this, until
The salt morass subside into a sphere
Beneath the sun, and be the monument,
The sole and undistinguished sepulchre,
Of yet quick myriads of all life? How much
Breath will be stilled at once! All beauteous world!
So young, so marked out for destruction, I
With a cleft heart look on thee day by day,
And night by night, thy numbered days and nights. 50
I cannot save thee, cannot save even her
Whose love had made me love thee more; but as
A portion of thy dust, I cannot think
Upon thy coming doom without a feeling
Such as--Oh God! and canst thou-- [_He pauses_.
[_A rushing sound from the cavern is heard, and shouts
of laughter--afterwards a Spirit passes_.
_Japh.
