Israel In Egypt. Book First. Poem by Edwin Atherstone

Tombed in the solid night of starless space;
From nearest living orb so far removed,
That light, of all material things most swift,
Myriads on myriads of earth's years must speed,
Ere the mere outskirts of that Stygian gloom,
If ever, it might reach,--at rest eterne,
Lies the cold wreck of an extinguished sun.
Prime glory once of all heaven's radiant host;
Body, for soul of purest light most fit--
'Tween its first darkening, and eclipse complete,
Streamed years which might eternity appear;
While into ether, like the particles,
Invisible, which are the breath of flowers,
The mighty bulk its softer elements
Still ever was exhaling. As when flesh
And sinew of earth's monster Mastodon,
By the slow wasting of the elements,
All are dissolved, and hard, enduring bones
Alone remain,--even so, of this immense,--
When, by the ocean waves of centuries,
Millions succeeding millions, worn away,--
The adamantine skeleton alone,
In darkness, silence, utter solitude,
A ruin for eternity, was left.

From glory of heaven, from eye of God, so far
Remote was this, that even His own work,
Omniscience had forgotten? that no more
Was Omnipresence there? that Power Supreme
No longer, like a beacon--flame to mark
Confines of Night, its once vast fires upheld?

Forgetteth not Omniscience; faileth not
Omnipotence: the Omnipresent still
There present is; though, to even angel's ken,
Invisible, as, to weaker eye of man,
Earth's centre. In the depth of ages past,
Over heaven's brightness,--nay, within the courts
Nighest the Throne, a shadow had there come:
Sin, like a foul mist charged with pestilence,
Had risen portentous; and in Beings pure
And happy, entered; gendering envy, wrath,
Discord, and mad revolt against the Power
By Whom alone they lived. A little while,
Frenzied they thus had stood; as gods with God
Hoping to rule; and, on the spirits true,
Words of contempt, and looks of high disdain,
Proudly outpouring: but, no sign of wrath
Forewarning; no dread voice, doom--speaking, heard,--
Throughout his whole Essential, suddenly,
Felt every tainted angel that, for him,
No longer were God's mansions fit abode!
As by dark lightning--blast, so, by a Power
Unseen, resistless, sheer o'er face of heaven,
Like clouds of dust before the hurricane,
Deep down into the void were they borne off,
All terror--struck, strengthless, dumb. Away--away--
Swifter than speed of light--beam flew they on:
Stars gleamed before them,--swelled to suns--died out
As stars again behind them, and were lost;--
Yet still on--on--by the invisible Might
Urged through the infinite--on still they shot:
Mid constellations vast and numberless,
Above--below--before--to right, and left,--
All seeming, in the speed of that dread flight,
Like fire--sparks on the wind, to stream the sky:
Strange forms, unknown to man,--far, far past ken
Of telescopic eye, though myriad--fold
Space--piercing more than his of the emerald isle,
The astronomer's glory;--yet still on,--on,--on,--
Through regions darkening,--darker,--darker still,--
As though the confines of the universe
They had approached; where few, and fewer yet,
Dimmer, and more remote the shining points,--
Till, far beyond even glimpse of living orb,
Deep in the ocean of eternal night,
On that huge sun--anatomy, at length,
Scattered like sand--grains flung upon the wind,
Down fell they,--and their perilous flight was done.

Here then, alas! their future place they knew!
For heaven's all--glorious beams, a solid dark!
For heaven's seraphic music, a dead load
Of silence, crushing! for unspeakable joy,
Gloom evermore! and, for the presence of God,
Death, universal death!--such their new home
They felt; and such, throughout eternity,
Dreaded would be their doom. A thousand years,
As mortals measure time,--even as at first,
Wide scattered, on the sun--wreck they had fallen,--
Silent, and motionless, by terror fixed,
The outcast spirits remained. But then, at length,--
By the All Merciful permitted so,--
From torpor waked, their leader's mighty voice
Once more they heard; throughout all Essences
Piercing, as light through darkness; and from death,
To a new life uprousing. In the heart
Of that dead sun, vacuous and huge, where, erst,
With light intensest had the heaven--fire blazed,
He bade them gather. At the welcome call,
From their long trance all started. Down at once,
Mid utter darkness, through the adamant bones
Of the great skeleton, as through air, they pierced:
And lo! within the void--though as of flame,
Blood--red and gloomy--light! light! once more light!
The long lost, glorious light! As, to the eye
Of lonely shepherd, on some tall hill's brow
Watching by night, seems heaven's stupendous round,--
So vast to these astonished, in mid way
Pausing to gaze, on every side alike,
Showed that immense rotund. A solid sphere
Of lurid fire--an atmosphere of fire,
All seemed; yet only seemed; for heat was none;
But, from the genial beams of living sun
So inconceivably far, a cold intense,
That earth's thin air to solid had congealed,
Made flesh as granite. Yet nor cold, nor heat,
In Spiritual Natures, as in bodily nerves,
Shoots the sharp sting of pain. Bad dream of man,
Which, in the All Wise, All Just, All Merciful,
Sees but the worst Inquisitor's prototype,
The avenger, the tormentor infinite!
All love is God: Heaven but His Presence is;
Hell, banishment from Heaven; and dread remorse,--
``The worm that never dies, the fire ne'er quenched,''--
Which, like the ravening tiger o'er his prey,
Mangles and gnaws the spirit ceaselessly,
Though undestroying; till,--the sin purged out,
By utmost penitence, submission full,
And prayer intense for pardon and for help,--
Again upon the erring spirit beams
The smile divine of God. Such the mild law
Of the All Merciful, Omnipotent,
To fallen angels; and to man, by them
Seduced. To those, at least, of men, whose day
Was, ere the Mediator, filled with love
And pity for lost creatures, came on earth,
An easier, swifter means of Grace to give.
And to those, surely, also, who, though born
After His wondrous advent, yet of Him,
His life, His teaching, nay His very name,
Nought hear; or, hearing, fail to understand:
Else, for one half mankind, His gracious scheme
Its end would fail to accomplish;--argument
Of insufficiency, with Power Supreme
Impossible! But nought, as yet, knew they
Of God's unbounded mercy. Sin they knew,
By them committed; wrath eternal feared,
And punishment unending; if themselves,
By victory, gained not freedom. Yet even then,
Like the first tinge of day on the dark night,
Was God's great goodness opening. Not for aye
Designed He that dead orb their prison--place;
Not to a blackness never ending, doomed
Spirits for Heaven create; to whom was light
Even as life; darkness a worse than death.

Permitted then,--yet, in his own fond thought,
Originator sole,--on the blank night
Of the dead sun's great heart, the wretched chief
Of the fall'n host that dark red gleam had waked;
Throughout the vast, even like an atmosphere
Of flame, pervading; whence, in one deep glow,
Gem--clear, the nigh, the distant, equally
Apparent stood; and shadow could be none.
Yet, after their long night of misery,
Silence unbroken, utter loneliness,--
Gladdening as sunrise to night--wandering man,
On the fall'n angels broke that dark red gleam:
Light, blessed light, not, then, for ever lost!
So that, with spirit thrilling, the great voice
Of their proud leader listened they,--wild hope
Stirring of progress sure; and victory yet,
Even o'er the Omnipotent! Despair, a crime
Against themselves, he taught. They had been foiled
By power more mighty, won from knowledge more
Of Nature's causes, workings, instruments.
But, with the ages, to themselves not less
Would wisdom come--to godhead lifting them;
Till, with power like his own, they might confront
Him who was now their victor; and, perchance,
Down from His Heaven--throne cast Him: or, at least,
Dominion equal gain; o'er one half Heaven
Ruling supreme, as, o'er the other, He.

To such proud, foolish thoughts, a willing ear
Did the fallen Spirits give: and, after him,
Others, as proud and foolish,--though less strong,
And, in their former glory, lower far,--
Words of same madness spake; till, like the swell
Of some great sea, storm--vexed, the multitude
In dire commotion worked; impatient all
From that drear dungeon to go forth at once;
And in some better place, more nigh to Heaven,
New life begin, and their new course essay.

But not, as yet, the pitying Deity
Their bonds thought fit to loose. From this terrene
Right up toward heaven, as easily might man
Ascend, and skirt the stars, as, from their place
Of banishment, might those fall'n Spirits depart.
Attempt they made; but,--by the Power withheld,--
Beyond the outside of their dungeon orb
No more could stir, than, from an iron mass,
Its grains could part, and, like winged insects, take
Their separate tracks through air. Dejection deep
Sank then on all. Again, through many an age,
Silent, and wandering lone, and dead to hope,
Mourned the fall'n angels;--Heaven for ever lost,
Weeping, as Spirits weep: of mercy none,
Less of forgiveness, thinking: and no more
Of growing strength expectant; such as, yet,
Might from their dungeon aid them to escape;
And, somewhere in the orbs of life and light,
New course begin; less dolorous, even though glimpse
Of brighter prospect, nigher to Heaven's bounds,
Never should gladden them. Remorse they felt;
Yet, less for sin, as wrong against their God,
Their Maker, the Great Fountain of all Good,--
Than as the source of their own misery;
Their loss of Heaven; their dread captivity
In that gaunt skeleton, that realm of death,
Mid everlasting night. Long ages, long,
Thus miserable they. The time, at length,
By the All Merciful decreed, was come.
Somewhat had penitence the Spirits touched,
By misery bowed; and, though Omniscience knew,
How, greater freedom given, would pride arise;
How the plague--tainted Spirits, their disease,
Throughout a world yet uncreate; and man,
Its destined habitant, would haste to spread;--
Yet, all the depths of the eternal years
Clearly beholding, as the immediate Now;
And the great consummation--Evil made
To work out finally a greater good;
Fullness of joy throughout His Universe,--
Else, had Omnipotence failed, Omniscience erred;
The All Merciful, more than man been merciless,--
Beholding thus,--by pity moved, nay love
For even those rebellious, folly struck,--
Their great, their heaviest fetters He bade drop.

As on earth's midnight sky the lightning gleams,
So suddenly through every Spirit shot
Sense of new freedom gained. As instantly,
For the dark ruby beam, burst splendor such,
As though, at last, from his long, death--like sleep,
To a new life the mighty orb had waked.
From floor to roof, from side to side, it burned;
Amid the bones of the sun--skeleton
Flashing and quivering with a thousand hues,
As on a round of ribbëd diamond.

Intensest joy broke forth. The Spirits all
Sent up their voices till the concave rang;
Full freedom feeling; light of Heaven once more
Beholding: yet, to God's All Merciful Love,
Nothing attributing; but Nature--Fate--
Or their own growing strength, and excellence,
The cause misdeeming. Straightway gathering then,--
Ere through the solid darkness they should speed
Amid the suns and systems,--lofty words,
By Satan, and the Spirits next in power,
O'er all the assembly rolled; as, in a flood,
Earth's o'ergorged rivers thunder o'er its vales.

Order must ever reign;--so taught their chiefs,--
Nor mocking, though all order had themselves
Madly o'erthrown; and into very Heaven
Foulest disorder brought: obedience true
To their great leader, Satan; though himself
The first to example disobedience
Toward Him, his greater, as eternity
Than Time's least moment greater. Through all space,
Wherever power opposing checked them not,
His own free course might every Spirit take:
Yet nighest to Heaven still best; so aught, perchance,
Of good might be espied; or hope of good,
Through their united powers attainable.
But, at fixed seasons,--then to be resolved,
When in the mid Creation they should pause,--
To that extinguished orb, their prison so long,
Must every Spirit return: in safety there,--
For, surely, to that utter depth of space,
Nor eye, nor ear of jealous God could pierce,--
Tidings from all the countless worlds to hear,
And tell; and conference hold, on what to do,
And what to shun; so working evermore
To victory at last. The Council o'er,--
For flight across the void immense of night,
Even to the heart of the great Universe,
In silence they prepared: then, all at once,
Right up through the ribbed arch of adamant,
As through thin ether, they sprang: through rock on rock,
Emerald, chrysolite, ruby; till, at last,
On the broad outside of the perished orb,--
Darkness eternal shrouding them,--they came,
And in deep silence paused. By spiritual sense,
To man unknown,--throughout the countless host
Their leader's will was felt; the place of each,
Mid uttermost dark, apparent was to all.
He, in the centre, gave the voiceless sign,
Their course directing; and,--no noise of flight
Creating,--instantly amid the void
The ardent legions shot. For, not on wings,
Laborious, slow, do Spirits take their way,
But at thought's speed; one moment on man's globe,
And, ere from cloud to earth lightning could leap,
Deep in the burning glory of the sun,
Will urging, might they stand. So went they on,
In silence, yet rejoicing; glad to see
Again the light of countless living orbs;
To speed at pleasure through the infinite;
Yet feel themselves from eye of God secure,
And from his baffled vengeance: for,--so lost
In sin and folly were they,--all unknown
By the Omniscient, deemed they their escape;
All unpermitted by the Omnipotent:
And how to oppose Him; how His heaven invade;
How dim His glory, and decrease His power,
Insanely brooded; while the All Merciful
Their every thought, their every motion knew;
And, their own good, at last, through ill to work,
Their folly suffered. Through the universe
At length they scattered: but, the appointed times
Ever observing, to the perished orb
Duly repaired; from all the suns and worlds,
Tidings to tell, and hear. Long ages gone,--
Of man they heard; on a small globe, named Earth,
Newly created: like unto themselves,
But of inferior nature: yet, 'twas said,
Destined, no doubt, their vacant place in heaven,
At the due time, to fill. Then envy rose,
And hatred; and resolve, by force, or guile,
God's purpose to defeat; and man to bring,
Through disobedience, to their own fall'n state;
Or lower still; so most to exasperate
Him whom they deemed their foe; the God of love,
Of mercy; God Omnipotent, All Wise;
Who their vain pride, and boasted power,--so willed--
Might, even by feeblest thing, have utterly crushed:
Nay, their great selves,--immortal, as they deemed,--
Eternal, for the ages yet to come,
As Deity itself--might have sent back
To Nothingness, whence first to life they rose,
By His sole word called forth. That God of love,
Of mercy, to incense, and thwart His ways,
Then man they tempted: and, through them, man fell!
Glory they deemed it; proof of growing strength,
Ere long to match them with Omnipotence:
Unknowing how--for their own sharper grief,
More dread remorse, and deeper penitence,
And for the greater good to injured man;
Nay, to themselves, when, in the infinite
Of ages should the time appointed come,
For everlasting peace, and perfect bliss,
Throughout the universe--their deed malign
Supernal power permitted. Man thus fallen,
Earth as their own domain they boasted then;
Pleasantly living, save when thought of heaven,
Its glories, and its happiness--so far
Best joy of earth transcending,--a sharp pang,
As from a serpent's tooth in human flesh,
Through Spiritual being shot: in some, worse hate
'Gainst man and God arousing; but in some,
Remorse, repentance; sense of heaviest guilt,
Of black ingratitude toward Him, whom, once,
The source they knew of all their happiness.

Few, few, as yet, were these: and, when the sting
Had gone--by old proud thoughts again they strove
To thrust from memory all good forfeited;
And, in their new existence, find a joy
To balance loss of Heaven. For, from the first,
Lost evermore they feared it; God incensed,
Inexorable for the eternity to come.
But, as the ages pass,--again, again,
The wholesome pangs are felt; and sharper still;
And longer--during the keen agony;
Till, even though hoping nought, a silent voice
Stirs in the spirit, and a prayer goes up:
A prayer, though supplication there be none
In act direct,--for, to offended God,
Prayer vain, they deem, as sure to be repulsed;--
Yet penitence is prayer: and, though unheard
By ear created, to the throne of heaven,
Distinct as on a thousand thunders borne,
Straightway ascends; and there is registered.

Thus, in long course of ages, one by one,
The fallen Spirits are raised: the heaven--outcast,
Penitent, humble, joyful; filled with awe,
But love as strong, toward the All Merciful,--
Again heaven enter; by the angels pure
Radiantly welcomed: and with them, once more,--
Joy every joy surpassing,--nigh the place
Of the Invisible their stations take,--
His Presence feeling: bliss that, all the worlds
To purchase, never would they lose again!

Man fallën, ages many there passed on;
And, for the rebel angels, triumph great
Accomplished seemed: for, even than themselves
More wicked, vile, as of a lower kind,
Earth's wretched race they deemed. In man they saw,
Part spirit, matter part; but, by the gross,
The higher nature ruled; the animal,
Such as with brutes the human nature shared,
Above the etherial,--man's peculiar,--
Rampantly lording; till the compound strange,
But a worse brute among the brutes might seem:
And even they, the outcasts from all good,
The first to sin, the tempters to his fall,
Looked on him loathing: yet rejoicing, too:
For, was not this fouled nature as a shout
Of victory, aye sounding to heaven's vault;
Telling to Him they once Almighty deemed,
How He had been defeated? Was not this,
This thing abhorred, the creature made so late,
So favored, loved; so with ripe wisdom formed,
That happiest, best--the appointed changes past--
Had been designed his lot? The Omnipotent, then,
Had not their guile o'ercome? Thus foolishly
Reasoned the proud rebellious: yet, with watch
Never remitting, marked the course of man;
His acts, and sufferings, hopes, and fears; his words
Attentive listened; if of heaven's designs
Aught should he learn: for sometimes--as they knew--
By shape celestial had a favored one
Been visited; and message from above
Within the heart had felt: nay, even words
Of human speech, with bodily ear had heard
From lips divine, as if to man spake man.

Thus, sometimes, of the things by God designed,
Knowledge they gathered; subtly, as they thought,
And unsuspect: then, straightway,--summons spread
From sun to sun, throughout the universe,
Wherever Spirit might be,--to their lone orb
Their flight they took; assured therein to hold
Council unknown by even Him, once deemed
Omniscient; viewless even to eye of Him,
The All--Seeing named. There, how the best to o'erthrow,
Or turn aside to issue different,
The purpose known of their great enemy,
Debated they: nor ever deemed how plain
Before Him lay their every act, and word,
And thought most secret: and that, bent on ill,
Good final were they working; though by way
Most foul; as, from the loathsome ordure, springs,
Fragrant, and beautiful, and pure, the flower.

From words of Noah, spoken to his sons,
Thus, though but half believing, some had learned
God's purpose, dread, strange, inconceivable,
The whole great globe with deluge to o'erwhelm:
Man's race entire--one family except--
To bury 'neath the waters. ``Was, then, God
Mad in his anger? Could the wisest sink
To foolishness, pride--stung, that even His own,
His favorite work, He would in pieces break,
Like a vexed child?'' So, in their secret thoughts,
Pondered the astonished Spirits. But, at length,--
Beneath the dome of their great council--hall,
By summons gathered--through the general host
Spread the strange tidings; certain, now, as strange;
And with amazement smote them, that long time
Silent stood all; for every Spirit was lost,
Self--questioning, but answer finding none,--
Wherefore his own last work, the angry God
Thus ruthlessly should smite, as if in hate
'Gainst the whole kind,--yet one small family,
As plants from which the race should spring anew,
Mid the great wreck preserve! ``From future man''--
So argued they--``what better may He hope,
Than from man past? Wherefore not all destroy,
Or none? For, if, in very nature, man
Is now to Him abhorrent,--the same taint,
Throughout all time to come will show itself,
Like a disease in blood, from sire to child
Transmitted; and the myriads yet to come,
Be loathsome to Him as the myriads gone.''

Thus they, unable to conceive design
Of the Omniscient, pondered, and were mute.
But their great leader's thunder--voice, at length,
Rolled through the silent concave. How to foil
The scheme divine, he counselled. If their foe,
The race entire, save one small family,
By his own hand would slay,--their aim should be,
The worst to save; the favored to destroy;
So, of his hoped--for race of better men,
Defrauding him; and forcing to desist
From his grand scheme of peopling earth for heaven,
Their vacant room to fill: or, else, compel,--
In first attempt defeated,--to essay
His power in new Creation; which their guile
Again might turn to mockery. Easy means,
Doubtless, would be, that foolish Ark to sink
Beneath the stifling waters: and himself,
In due time, would effect its overthrow.
Meanwhile--as nought had chanced, nought been foreknown,--
To earth would they return, and wait events:
There, all unseen themselves, would all things see;
Snatching occasion, whatsoe'er, God's schemes
To baffle,--their own purpose to work out.

As he, so other of the leaders spake:
And all were bold; all firmly resolute
Against their enemy ceaseless war to wage;
Sure of success. Far surer of defeat
Had been, if knowing how their utmost might,
Against the Almighty, would prove less than strength
Of gossamer--thread to poise the universe!

And vain found they the attempt. No living thing,
Doomed to destruction, had they power to save;
No thing, for life reserved, could they destroy.

In later days, conjectures dark they had
Touching God's final purpose with man's race,--
The earth again o'erspreading rapidly,
As herb and flower, amid the tropic climes,
Upshooting after rain. One man they saw,
Whom men named Abraham; agëd, and, as yet,
Childless; and she who should have borne him sons,
Old also, and past hope of progeny.
Yet, from his words, o'erheard, the Spirits learned,
How heavenly promise unto him had come,
That even from him, and from that barren wife,
Should spring a mighty nation; chosen of God,
His own peculiar people; and, through them,
Should all the earth be blessëd. And, behold!
Accomplished soon they saw one half the word--
Israel a numerous people! yet, most strange,
Not blessing earth; nay, even themselves not blest;
But slaves to cruel masters! Day by day,
Night following night, they saw their wretchedness;
Heard their loud cries of anguish, sobs, and groans;
And marvelled how of God they thus were left;
How from those fallen should kings of nations spring;
How to a mighty people they should grow;
Their glory filling earth: for one, at length,
A savage king, they saw, who, to their race,
Speedy destruction threatened; unto death
Their every male child dooming: whence must come
Extinction certain, if prevented not.
And nought awhile prevented; as though God
Had left them, and His promise had withdrawn.

One infant, in a rushy cradle launched
On the broad river--as to death devote,--
Thence, by the virgin daughter of that king,
Rescued they had beheld; and with great love
Unceasing tended. And, in after years,
Still the same mother's heart upon him poured,
Marvelling they saw: how in man's deepest lore
He was instructed: how in fame he grew;
How rare in strength, and comeliness, and grace:
How, by his mien majestic, awe he raised
In loftiest men; how, by his mildness, love:
How unto him, as storm--beat seamen gaze
On a sure landmark, the down--trodden race
Of Israel 'gan to look, as to their help:
For then his name was glorious; and his might
In battle had from vanquished Egypt driven
Fierce Ethiop's scourge. But yet again they saw
How, pressed by enemies, his life to save,
Israel's great champion, to a far--off land
Hurriedly fled; lost evermore, as seemed,
To the now strengthless, joyless, hopeless race;
The deeper plunged in darkness, that, on him,
Thus gone from sight, as on their morning star,
Heralding happy day, they long had looked.

Yet not from sight of demons had he gone.
As one apart from all of human kind,
They knew him; and for some peculiar end,
Destined, had deemed him long: though what that end,
Vain their conjecture. Unremitting watch
Around him still they kept; nor ever once,
Unnoted, or unheard, moved he, or spake.
At length, in that great night on Horeb passed,
While hovering yet around him,--suddenly
Vanished they, terror--struck: no threatening arm
Thence scaring them; no word, no sign, no sound;
But irresistible Necessity
Making, for aught impure, existence there,
Impossible as silence in the swell
Of heaven's full choir, or midnight at mid--noon.

But when at length, by instinct sure, they knew
The Awful Power withdrawn,--once more on watch
The fallen Spirits went: and proof had soon
That for great purpose, though as yet unknown,
And mighty change to bring, that favored man,
Even by the Highest had been visited!
Words, tones, looks, motions, with intensest care,
All marked they: yet, awhile, could nothing gain,
Save that to Egypt, on some mission high,
By God commanded, straightway was he bound.

Him, and his family, ere long, they saw,
In lowly guise depart: and, day and night,
Close watched them, as the tiger on the fawn,
Nigh to his lair approaching heedlessly,
With burning eye keeps watch. Yet still went on
The meditative man; his soul with God
Alway communing; or, with words of love,
Or pious wisdom, to his family
Gently discoursing; or with hope of good
For Israel, through him destined to be wrought,
Their spirits cheering:--still, of that great night,
The secret speaking never. But, at length,
The brothers, long years parted, they saw meet:
Their converse listened: heard the wondrous tale,
To Aaron told by Moses,--God's own words,
In human language spoken from the bush,
Burning, yet all unburnt: and instantly,
Through earth,--throughout the countless worlds, and suns,
To the fall'n host,--thus wide dispersed,--went forth
Summons to council prompt. Nor time was long
Ere, past the region of all living orbs;
And far within the void of night and death,
The myriads flew; and in the blazing round,
The heart of that great sun--anatomy,--
A congregation numerous and bright
As ocean's sun--tipped waves, from lofty cliff
At morn beheld,--in deepest silence all,
The voice expecting of their leader, stood.

He, with that towering form, and mien sublime,
Still glorious, though sin--shadowed, which in heaven
Had marked his high pre--eminence,--on a rock
Outblazing gem--like, full in view of all
The semicircle deep of ardent eyes,
His station took; looked round, and thus began.