Satan was now at hand; and from his seat |
The monster, moving, onward came as fast, |
With horrid strides ; | Hell trembled as he strode. |
The undaunted fiend what this might be admired, I
Admired, not fear'd: | God and his Son except |
Created thing naught valued he, | nor shunn'd ; |
And with disdainful look | thus first began:]

"Whence and what art thou, execrable shape! |
That dar'st, though grim and terrible, advance
Thy miscreated front athwart my way
To yonder gates? | through them I mean to pass,
That be assured, without leave ask'd of thee.
Retire, or taste thy folly; and learn by proof,
Hell-born! not to contend with spirits of Heaven!" |

To whom the goblin, full of wrath, replied, |
"Art thou that traitor angel, | art thou he
Who first broke peace in heaven, ❘ and faith, | till then
Unbroken, and in proud rebellious arms |
Drew after him the third part of Heaven's sons,
Conjured against the Highest, | for which both thou
And they, outcast from God, are here condemn'd |
To waste eternal days in woe and pain? |

And reckonest thou thyself with spirits of Heaven, |
Hell-doom'd and breath'st defiance here and scorn, |
Where I reign king, and, to enrage thee more,
Thy king, and lord? | Back to thy punishment, |
False fugitive! and to thy speed add wings, |
Lest with a whip of scorpions | I pursue
Thy lingering, for with one stroke of this dart |
Strange horror seize thee, and pangs unfelt before." |

grisly terror, and in shape, |

|

so threat'ning, grew tenfold
nd deform. On the other side, I
lignation, | Satan stood

like a comet burn'd, |

At last appear

Hell bounds, high, reaching to the horrid roof, And thrice three fold the gates: three folds were brass,

Three iron, I three of adamantine rock
Impenetrable, impaled with circling fire, |
Yet unconsum'd. Before the gates | there sat,
On either side, | a formidable shape; I

I

The one seem'd woman to the waist, and fair; |
But ended foul in many a scaly fold
Voluminous and vast, a serpent, arm'd
With mortal sting; about her middle round |
A cry of hell-hounds, never ceasing, bark'd}
With wide Cerberean mouths | full loud, and rung
A hideous peal! |

Far less abhorr'd than these | Vex'd Scylla, bathing in the sea that parts Calabria from the hoarse Trinacrian shore; 1 Nor uglier follow the night hag, when, call'd In secret, riding through the air, she comes, Lured with the smell of infant blood, to dance With Lapland witches, while the labouring moon | Eclipses at their charms. |

The other shape, |
If shape it might be call'd that shape had none |
Distinguishable in member, joint, or limb; |

Or substance might be call'd that shadow seem'd; |
For each seem'd either; black it stood as night, |
Fierce as ten furies, | terrible as Hell, |
And shook a dreadful dart; what seem'd his head |
The likeness of a kingly crown had on. |

a SCYLLA, a fabled monster, of whom mention is made in the Odyssey. She is said to have twelve feet and six long necks, with a terrific head, and three rows of close-set teeth, on each.

b CALABRIA, the part of Italy occupied by the ancient Calabri.

с

TRINACRIA, one of the ancient names of Sicily.

Satan was now at hand; and from his seat |
The monster, moving, onward came as fast, |
With horrid strides; | Hell trembled as he strode.
The undaunted fiend what this might be admired, |
Admired, not fear'd: | God and his Son except |
Created thing naught valued he, nor shunn'd; |
And with disdainful look thus first began: |

"Whence and what art thou, execrable shape! |
That dar'st, though grim and terrible, advance
I
Thy miscreated front athwart my way

To yonder gates? | through them I mean to pass,
That be assured, without leave ask'd of thee. I
Retire, or taste thy folly; and learn by proof,
Hell-born! not to contend with spirits of Heaven!" |

To whom the goblin, full of wrath, replied, | "Art thou that traitor angel, | art thou he

Who first broke peace in heaven, ❘ and faith, | till then
Unbroken, and in proud rebellious arms |
Drew after him the third part of Heaven's sons, I
Conjured against the Highest, | for which both thou
And they, outcast from God, are here condemn'd |
To waste eternal days in woe and pain? |

And reckonest thou thyself with spirits of Heaven, |
Hell-doom'd! | and breath'st defiance here and scorn, |
Where I reign king, and, to enrage thee more, |
Thy king, and lord? | Back to thy punishment, |
False fugitive! and to thy speed add wings, |
Lest with a whip of scorpions | I pursue
Thy lingering, or with one stroke of this dart |
Strange horror seize thee, and pangs unfelt before." |

So spake the grisly terror, and in shape, |
So speaking and so threat'ning, grew tenfold
More dreadful and deform. On the other side, |
Incens'd with indignation, | Satan stood
Unterrified, and like a comet burn'd, |

That fires the length of Ophiucus huge |
In the arctic sky, and from his horrid hair |
Shakes pestilence and war.

Each at the head | Levell❜d his deadly aim; their fatal hands | No second stroke intend; and such a frown Each cast at the other, as when two black clouds | With heaven's artillery fraught, come rattling on Over the Caspian, | then stand front to front | Hovering a space, | till winds the signal blow | To join their dark encounter in mid air: |

So frown'd the mighty combatants, that hell
Grew darker at their frown; so match'd they stood; |
For never but once more | was either like
To meet so great a foe. | And now great deeds

Had been achiev'd, whereof all Hell had rung, I
Had not the snaky sorceress that sat
Fast by Hell-gate, and kept the fatal key,
Risen, and with hideous outcry rush'd between. |

WOMAN.

(CAMPBELL.)

In joyous youth, what soul hath never known |
Thought, feeling, taste, harmonious to its own? |
Who hath not paused while Beauty's pensive eye |
Ask'd from his heart the homage of a sigh?!
Who hath not own'd, with rapture-smitten frame, |
The power of grace, the magic of a name? |
|

There be, perhaps, who barren hearts avow, |
Cold as the rocks on Torneo's hoary brow; |
There be, whose loveless wisdom never fail'd, I
In self-adoring pride securely mail'd;-1

⚫ OPHIUCUS, a constellation. b Whår-of.

But, triumph not, ye peace-enamour'd few! |
Fire, Nature, Genius, never dwelt with you!
For you no fancy consecrates the scene |
Where rapture utter'd vows, and wept between: |
"T is yours, unmoved, to sever and to meet ; |
No pledge is sacred, and no home is sweet! |

Who that would ask a heart to dullness wed, I
The waveless calm, the slumber of the dead? |
No; the wild bliss of nature needs alloy,
And fear and sorrow fan the fire of joy!!
And say without our hopes, without our fears,
Without the home that plighted love endears, |
Without the smile from partial beauty won, I
O! what were man? - a world without a sun! |

Till Hymen brought his love-delighted hour, |
There dwelt no joy in Eden's rosy bower! |
In vain the viewless seraph lingering there,
At starry midnight charm'd the silent air; |
In vain the wild-bird carol'd on the steep, |
To hail the sun, slow-wheeling from the deep; |
In vain, to soothe the solitary shade, |
Aerial notes in mingling measure play'd;
The summer wind that shook the spangled tree, |
The whispering wave, the murmur of the bee;-|
Still slowly pass'd the melancholy day, I

And still the stranger wist not where to stray:|
The world was sad! | the garden was a wild!!
And man, the hermit, sigh'd—| till woman smil❜d ! |

SINCERITY.

(TILLOTSON.)

Truth and sincerity | have all the advantages of appearance, and many more. If the show of any thing be good, I am sure the reality is better; for why