She spoke to vanish—but the single ray24
Shot from the unseen moon, still palely breaketh
The awe that rests with midnight on the way;
Faithful as Hope when Wisdom's self forsaketh—
The buoyant beam the lonely man pursued—
And, feeling God, he felt not Solitude.
No fiend obscene, no giant spectre grim25
(Born or of Runic or Arabian Song),
Affronts the progress through the gallery dim,
Into the sudden light which flames along
The waves, and dyes the stillness of their flood
To one red horror like a lake of blood.
And now, he enters, with that lurid tide,26
Where time-long corals shape a mighty hall:
Three curtain'd arches on the dexter side,
And on the floors a ruby pedestal,
On which, with marble lips, that life-like smiled,
Stood the fair Statue of a crownèd Child:
It smiled, and yet its crown was wreath'd of thorns,27
And round its limbs coil'd foul the viper's brood;
Near to that Child a rough crag, deluge-torn,
Jagg'd, with sharp shadow abrupt, the luminous flood;
And a huge Vulture from the summit, there,
Watch'd, with dull hunger in its glassy stare.
Below the Vulture in the rock ensheathed,28
Shone out the hilt-beam of the diamond glaive;
And all the hall one hue of crimson wreathed,
And all the galleries vista'd through the wave;
As flush'd the coral fathom-deep below,
Lit into glory from the ruby's glow.
And on three thrones there sate three giant forms,29
Rigid the first, as Death;—with lightless eyes,
And brows as hush'd as deserts, when the storms
Lock the tornado in the Nubian skies;—
Dead on dead knees the large hands nerveless rest,
And dead the front droops heavy on the breast.
The second shape, with bright and kindling eye30
And aspect haughty with triumphant life,
Like a young Titan rear'd its crest on high,
Crown'd as for sway, and harness'd as for strife;
But, o'er one-half his image, there was cast
A shadow from the throne where sate the last.
And this, the third and last, seem'd in that sleep31
Which neighbours waking in a summer's dawn,
When dreams, relaxing, scarce their captive keep;
Half o'er his face a veil transparent drawn,
Stirr'd with quick sighs unquiet and disturb'd,
Which told the impatient soul the slumber curb'd.
Thrill'd, but undaunted, on the Adventurer strode32
Then spoke the youthful Genius with the crown
And armour: "Hail to our august abode!
Guardless we greet the seeker of Renown.
In our least terror cravens Death behold,
But vainly frown our direst for the bold."
"And who are ye?" the wondering King replied,33
"On whose large aspects reigns the awe sublime
Of fabled judges, that o'er souls preside
In Rhadamanthian Halls?" "The Lords of Time,"
Answer'd the Giant, "And our realms are three,
The What has been, what is, and WHAT SHALL BE!