Now was the sun [1] so stationed, as when first His early radiance quivers on the heights Where streamed his Maker's blood; while Libra hangs Above Hesperian Ebro; and new fires, Meridian, flash on Ganges' yellow tide. So day was sinking, when the Angel of God Appeared before us. Joy was in his mien. Forth of the flame he stood--upon the brink; And with a voice, whose lively clearness far Surpassed our human, "Blessed are the pure In heart," he sang; then, near him as we came, "Go ye not further, holy spirits," he cried, "Ere the fire pierce you; enter in, and list Attentive to the song ye hear from thence." I, when I heard his saying, was as one Laid in the grave. My hands together clasped, And upward stretching, on the fire I looked, And busy fancy conjured up the forms, Erewhile beheld alive, consumed in flames.--_Canto XXVII._ [Footnote 1: At Jerusalem it was dawn, in Spain midnight, and in India noonday, while it was sunset in Purgatory] HAMLET AND THE GHOST. SHAKESPEARE. HAMLET. Where wilt thou lead me? Speak, I'll go no further. GHOST. Mark me. HAM. I will. GHOST. My hour is almost come, When I to sulphurous and tormenting flames Must render up myself. HAM. Alas! poor ghost! GHOST. Pity me not, but lend thy serious hearing To what I shall unfold. HAM. Speak, I am bound to hear. GHOST. So art thou to revenge, when thou shalt hear. HAM. What? GHOST. I am thy father's spirit; Doomed for a certain time to walk the night; And, for the day, confined to fast in fires, Till the foul crimes, done in my days of nature, Are burnt and purged away. But that I am forbid To tell the secrets of my prison-house, I could a tale unfold, whose lightest word Would harrow up thy soul; freeze thy young blood; Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres; Thy knotted and combined locks to part, And each particular hair to stand on end, Like quills upon the fretful porcupine; But this eternal blason must not be To ears of flesh and blood. CALDERON'S "PURGATORY OF ST. PATRICK."