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That broke the stillness was a streamlet's moan
Murmuring amidst the rocks with plaintive tone,
As if a storm within the woodland bowers,
Were gathering. On they mov'd, and lo! the towers
Of a far city! nearer now they drew,
And all reveal'd, expanding on their view,
The Babylon, the scene of crimes and woes
Paris, the guilty, the devoted, rose.

******

In the dark mantle of a cloud array'd,
Viewless and hush'd, the angel and the shade
Enter'd that evil city. Onward passed
The heavenly being first, with brow o'ercast
And troubled mien, while in his glorious eyes
Tears had obscur'd the splendour of the skies.
Palo with dismay, the trembling spirit saw
That alter'd aspect, and, in breathless awe,
Mark'd the strange silence round. The deep-ton'd swell
Of life's full tide was hush'd; the sacred bell,
The clamorous anvil, mute; all sounds were fled
Of labour or of mirth, and in their stead
Terror and stillness, boding signs of woe,
Inquiring glances, rumours whisper'd low,
Questions half-utter'd, jealous looks, that keep
A fearful watch around; and sadness deep
That weighs upon the heart; and voices, heard
At intervals, in many a broken word;
Voices of mothers, trembling as they press'd
Th' unconscious infant closer to their breast;
Voices of wives, with fond imploring cries,
And the wild eloquence of tears and sighs,
On their own thresholds striving to detain
Their fierce impatient lords; but weak and vain
Affection's gentle bonds, in that dread hour
Of fate and fury, Love hath lost his power!
For evil spirits are abroad! the air
Breathes of their influence; druid phantoms there
Fir'd by that thirst for victims, which of old
Raged in their bosoms fierce and uncontroll'd,
Rush, in ferocious transport, to survey
The deepest crime that e'er hath dimm'd the day.
Blood, human blood, hath stain'd their vests and hair,
On the winds tossing, with a sanguine glare,