DEATH'S CHOSEN ALLY.
The shadowy Monarch frown'd upon his throne,
O'erwearied and displeased.—"Behold, my task,
Since him of Eden felt a brother's hate,
Down to the brow that blanches as I speak,
Hath known no respite. Would that there were one
With whom to trust my cares awhile, and snatch
One moment of repose. Ho! ye who wait!
Give notice, that with him most worthy found
By previous deeds to waste the race of man,
The King of Terrors will delight to share
The glory of his kingdom."
Mighty winds
Swollen up to earthquake violence, and tones
Of many waters, like wild, warring seas,
Clamor'd the edict, while the lightning's spear
Wrote it in flame on every winged cloud:
Yea, with such zeal the elements conspir'd
To publish the decree, methought there lurk'd
In each, some latent, lingering hope, to win
The promis'd regency.
The Passions came,
Thron'd on their storm-clouds, and with varied voice,
Thundering or eloquent, as best beseem'd
Their several natures, boasted how to staunch
Life's countless springs. But to their claims pale Death
Gave credence cold.
Next, fleshless Famine rose
Up like a charnel-ghost, while Pestilence
Came stalking on, with quiver ever full;
