Oh, scene of fear! the travellers hear The raging of the flood; They hear how fearfully it roars, But clouds of darker shade than night For ever hovering round those shores, Hide all things from their sight; The Sun upon that darkness pours His unavailing light, Nor ever Moon nor Stars display, Through the thick shade, one guiding ray To shew the perils of the way. There, in a creek, a vessel lay. Just on the confines of the day, It rode at anchor in its bay, These venturous pilgrims to convey Across that outer Sea. Strange vessel sure it seem'd to be, And all unfit for such wild sea! For through its yawning side the wave Was oozing in; the mast was frail, And old and torn its only sail. How shall that crazy vessel brave The billows, that in wild commotion For ever roar and rave? How hope to cross the dreadful Ocean, O'er which eternal shadows dwell, Whose secrets none return to tell? Well might the travellers fear to enter! An awful voice, that left no choice, The travellers hear that voice in fear, XXI. THE WORLD'S END. SWIFT as an arrow in its flight The Ship shot through the incumbent night; And they have left behind The raging billows and the roaring wind, The storm, the darkness, and all mortal fears; And lo! another light To guide their way appears, That instant, from Ladurlad's heart and brain The Curse was gone; he feels again Fresh as in Youth's fair morning, and the Maid Hath lost her leprous stain. The Mighty One hath no dominion here, Then raising to the Glendoveer, With heavenly beauty bright, her angel face, Turn'd not reluctant now, and met his dear embrace. Swift glides the Ship, with gentle motion, Of earth-born spirits slain before their time; Who, wandering over sea and sky and land, Had so fulfill'd their term; and now were met Upon this icy belt, a motley band, Waiting their summons, at the appointed hour, When each before the judgment-seat must stand, And hear his doom from Baly's righteous power. Foul with habitual crimes, a hideous crew Were there, the race of rapine and of blood. Now, having overpast the mortal flood, Their own deformity they knew, And knew the meed that to their deeds was due. Therefore in fear and agony they stood, Expecting when the Evil Messenger Among them should appear. But with their fear A hope was mingled now; O'er the dark shade of guilt a deeper hue It threw, and gave a fiercer character To the wild eye and lip and sinful brow. They hop'd that soon Kehama would subdue The inexorable God, and seize his throne, Reduce the infernal World to his command, And, with his irresistible right hand, Redeem them from the vaults of Padalon. Apart from these a milder company, And babes, by sin unstain'd, Then left, till gentle Death, Coming like Sleep, their feeble moanings ended; Or for his prey the ravenous Kite descended; Or, marching like an army from their caves, The Pismires blacken'd o'er, then bleach'd and bare Left their unharden'd bones to fall asunder there. Innocent Souls! thus set so early free From sin and sorrow and mortality, Their spotless spirits all-creating Love Receiv'd into its universal breast. Yon blue serene above Was their domain; clouds pillow'd them to rest; Rest upon earth, but on the wing for ever Grow and are strengthen'd, while the allotted years And mingle with the blessed company Or where their base is founded, None could espy. Above all reach of sight They rose, the second Earth was on their height, Their feet were fix'd on everlasting night. So deep the Gulf, no eye And from below continually Plunged down, and bore them to receive their doom. Then might be seen who went in hope, and who Trembled to meet the meed Of many a foul misdeed, as wild they threw Yea, with imploring looks and horrent shriek, Their mercy they essay'd. Still from the verge they strain, And from the dreadful gulph avert their eyes, In vain; down plunge the Demons, and their cries Feebly, as down they sink, from that profound arise. What heart of living man could, undisturb'd, Bear sight so sad as this! What wonder there If Kailyal's lip were blanch'd with inmost dread! The chill which from that icy belt Struck through her, was less keen than what she felt With her heart's-blood through every limb dispread. Close to the Glendoveer she clung, Then to Ladurlad said the Glendoveer, A little while thou must be left alone, Then taking Kailyal in his arms, he said, XXII. THE GATE OF PADALON. The strong foundations of this inmost Earth Ice in the regions of the upper air, Whose strength sufficed to bear The weight of all this upper World of ours, And with its rampart clos'd the Realm of Woe. Eight gates hath Padalon; eight heavenly Powers Have them in charge, each alway at his post, Those gates stand ever open, night and day, For ever throng the way. Freshens for ever their perpetual pains. But they whom Baly's righteous voice absolv'd, Of Guilt and twin-born Punishment and Woe, On to the second World their way they wend, And there, in trembling hope, await the doubtful end. For still in them doth hope predominate, Expectant stands; they turn their anxious eyes For, hark! what clamorous cries O'er all the echoing vaults of Padalon; These were the sounds which, at the southern gate, Hung on his neck, well-nigh a lifeless weight. Who and what art thou? cried the Guardian Power, Who comest here at this portentous hour, Trembles, and all our might can scarce keep down This mortal Maid to our forlorn abodes? Even in securest hours. The shricks and yellings of infernal woe? Can living flesh and blood Endure the passage of the fiery flood? Lord of the Gate, replied the Glendoveer, Even He to whom futurity is known, The Holiest, bade us go to Yamen's throne. Thou seest my precious charge; Under thy care, secure from harm, I leave her, While I ascend to bear her father down. Beneath the shelter of thine arm receive her! Then, quoth he to the Maid, Be of good cheer, my Kailyal! dearest dear, And soaring up, in spiral circles, wound But, as he thus departed, The Maid, who at Neroodi's feet was lying, Like one entranced or dying, Recovering strength from sudden terror, started; And gazing after him with straining sight, And straining arms, she stood, As if in attitude To win him back from flight. Yea, she had shap'd his name For utterance, to recal and bid him stay, Nor leave her thus alone; but virtuous shame Represt the unbidden sounds upon their way; And calling faith to aid, Even in this fearful hour, the pious Maid Collected courage, till she seem'd to be Calm and in hope, such power hath piety. Before the Giant Keeper of the Gate She crost her patient arms, and at his feet, Prepar'd to meet The awful will of Fate with equal mind, Even the stern trouble of Neroodi's brow Hope, long unfelt till now, For thou to this forlorn abode hast brought Hope, who too long hath been a stranger here. And surely for no lamentable lot, Nature, who erreth not, To thee that heart of fortitude hath given, Those eyes of purity, that face of love:-If thou beest not the inheritrix of Heaven, There is no truth above. Thus as Neroodi spake, his brow severe Shone with ani nward joy; for sure he thought Ere long the World's deliverance would be wrought, A moment, then again Her eager head! and scarce upon the ground Ladurlad's giddy feet their footing found, When, with her trembling arms, she claspt him round. No word of greeting, Nor other sign of joy at that strange meeting. Expectant of their fate, Silent, and hand in hand, Before the Infernal Gate, The Father and his heavenly Daughter stand. Then to Neroodi said the Glendoveer, Lord of the Gate, to whom these realms are known, Bring forth my Chariot, Carmala! quoth then When all the Powers of Hell attend their King, As if an inward life sustain'd its weight, Then Carmala brought forth two mantles, white As the swan's breast, and bright as mountain snow, When from the wintry sky The sun, late-rising, shines upon the height, Nor aught that time could touch, or force destroy, Children of Earth, Neroodi cried, Of other frame, O son of Heaven, art thou! Yet hast thou now to go Might not these things dismay thee on thy flight, And thy strong pennons flag and fail thee there? Trust not thy wings, celestial though thou art, Nor thy good heart, which horror might assail And pity quail, Pity in these abodes of no avail; But take thy seat this mortal pair beside, And Carmala the infernal Car will guide. Go, and may happy end your way betide! So, as he spake, the self-moved Car roll'd on, And lo! they pass the Gate of Padalon. XXIII. PADALON. WHOE'ER hath lov'd with venturous step to tread The chambers dread Of some deep cave, and seen his taper's beam Playing afar upon the sunless stream, Whoe'er hath trod such caves of endless night, The living World, and blessed sunshine there, And drink, as from a cup Of joy, with thirsty lips, the air. open Far other light than that of day there shone A glow, as of a fiery furnace light, A thing of comfort, and the sight, dismay'd, Shrunk inward from the molten atmosphere. Their way was through the adamantine rock Which girt the World of Woe; on either side Its massive walls arose, and overhead Arch'd the long passage; onward as they ride, With stronger glare the light around them spread, And lo! the regions dread, The World of Woe before them, opening wide. There rolls the fiery flood, Girding the realms of Padalon around. A sea of flame it seem'd to be, Sea without bound; For neither mortal, nor immortal sight, Could pierce across through that intensest light. A single rib of steel, Keen as the edge of keenest scymitar, Spann'd this wide gulph of fire. The infernal Car Roll'd to the Gulf, and on its single wheel Self-balanced, rose upon that edge of steel. Red-quivering float the vapours overhead, The fiery gulf beneath them spread, Tosses its billowing blaze with rush and roar; Steady and swift the self-mov'd Chariot went, Winning the long ascent, Then, downward rolling, gains the farther shore. But, oh! what sounds and sights of woe, What sights and sounds of fear, Assail the mortal travellers here! Their way was on a causey straight and wide, Where penal vaults on either side were seen, Ranged like the cells wherein Those wonderous winged alchemists infold Their stores of liquid gold. Thick walls of adamant divide The dungeons; and from yonder circling flood, Off-streams of fire through secret channels glide, And wind among them, and in each provide An everlasting food Of righteous torments for the accursed brood. These were the rebel race, who, in their might But by the Suras, in celestial fight, And wield their arms again in happier hour; Following Kehama's triumph, to press on Even over Veeshnoo's empyreal seat They trust the Rajah shall extend their sway, And that the seven-headed Snake, whereon The strong Preserver sets his conquering feet, Will rise and shake him headlong from his throne, When, in their irresistible array, Kehama! they exclaim; Thundering, the dreadful echo rolls about, And Hell's whole vault repeats Kehama's name. Over these dens of punishment, the host A watch-tower, the decurion Demon's post, In the red light of Padalon, Now, now, Deliverer! now, Kehama, now! Oh, if that name abhorr'd, Thus utter'd, could well nigh Dismay the Powers of Hell, and daunt their Lord, How fearfully to Kailyal's ear it came ! She, as the Car roll'd on its rapid way, Bent down her head, and clos'd her eyes for dread; And deafening, with strong effort from within, Her ears against the din, Cover'd and prest them close with both her hands. Sure if the mortal Maiden had not fed On heavenly food, and long been strengthened With heavenly converse for such end vouchsafd, Her human heart had fail'd, and she had died Beneath the horrors of this awful hour. But Heaven supplied a power Beyond her earthly nature, to the measure Of need infusing strength; And Fate, whose secret and unerring pleasure Appointed all, decreed An ample meed and recompense at length. High-fated Maid, the righteous hour is nigh! The all-embracing Eye Of Retribution still beholdeth thee; Bear onward to the end, O Maid, courageously! On roll'd the Car, and lo! afar Upon its height the Towers of Yamenpur Rise on the astonish'd sight. Behold the infernal City, Yamen's seat |