_First Spirit._ O my deep waters, cataract and flood, What wordless triumph did your voices render O mountain-summits, where the angels stood And shook from head and wing thick dews of splendour! How, with a holy quiet, did your Earthy Accept that Heavenly, knowing ye were worthy! Yet I wail! _Second Spirit._ O my wild wood-dogs, with your listening eyes! My horses--my ground-eagles, for swift fleeing! My birds, with viewless wings of harmonies, My calm cold fishes of a silver being, How happy were ye, living and possessing, O fair half-souls capacious of full blessing! Yet I wail! _First Spirit._ I wail, I wail! Now hear my charge to-day, Thou man, thou woman, marked as the misdoers By God's sword at your backs! I lent my clay To make your bodies, which had grown more flowers: And now, in change for what I lent, ye give me The thorn to vex, the tempest-fare to cleave me-- And I wail! _Second Spirit._ I wail, I wail! Behold ye that I fasten My sorrow's fang upon your souls dishonoured? Accursed transgressors! down the steep ye hasten,-- Your crown's weight on the world, to drag it downward Unto your ruin. Lo! my lions, scenting The blood of wars, roar hoarse and unrelenting-- And I wail! _First Spirit._ I wail, I wail! Do you hear that I wail? I had no part in your transgression--none. My roses on the bough did bud not pale, My rivers did not loiter in the sun; _I_ was obedient. Wherefore in my centre Do I thrill at this curse of death and winter?-- Do I wail? _Second Spirit._ I wail, I wail! I wail in the assault Of undeserved perdition, sorely wounded! My nightingale sang sweet without a fault, My gentle leopards innocently bounded. _We_ were obedient. What is this convulses Our blameless life with pangs and fever pulses? And I wail! _Eve._ I choose God's thunder and His angels' swords To die by, Adam, rather than such words. Let us pass out and flee. _Adam._ We cannot flee. This zodiac of the creatures' cruelty Curls round us, like a river cold and drear, And shuts us in, constraining us to hear. _First Spirit._ I feel your steps, O wandering sinners, strike A sense of death to me, and undug graves! The heart of earth, once calm, is trembling like The ragged foam along the ocean-waves: The restless earthquakes rock against each other; The elements moan 'round me--"Mother, mother"-- And I wail! _Second Spirit._ Your melancholy looks do pierce me through; Corruption swathes the paleness of your beauty. Why have ye done this thing? What did we do That we should fall from bliss as ye from duty? Wild shriek the hawks, in waiting for their jesses, Fierce howl the wolves along the wildernesses-- And I wail!