He must
Hold comfort, and the torrent of despair
Within me stay and hush.
MIRIAM
Then must it be.
[Turning towards the teraphim amid wind and pallid lightning, and prostrating herself before it.]
Prophet of Israel, who art beyond
The troubling and the terrifying grave,
Th’ immeasurable moan and melancholy
Of ways that win to Sheol—Rise! Arise!