303
Beam on the Prophet's purged eye, or if
Diseasing Realms the Enthusiast, wild of Thought,
Scatter new Frenzies on the infected Throng,
Thou Both inspiring and predooming Both,
Fit Instruments and best, of perfect End:
Glory to Thee, Father of Earth and Heaven!"
And first a Landscape rose,
More wild, and waste, and desolate, than where
The white bear, drifting on a field of ice,
Howls to her sundered cubs with piteous rage
And savage agony.
FINIS.
