_Zerah._ Forms, Spaces, Motions wide, O meek, insensate things, O congregated matters! who inherit, Instead of vital powers, Impulsions God-supplied; Instead of influent spirit, A clear informing beauty; Instead of creature-duty, Submission calm as rest. Lights, without feet or wings, In golden courses sliding! Glooms, stagnantly subsiding, Whose lustrous heart away was prest Into the argent stars! Ye crystal firmamental bars That hold the skyey waters free From tide or tempest's ecstasy! Airs universal! thunders lorn That wait your lightnings in cloud-cave Hewn out by the winds! O brave And subtle elements! the Holy Hath charged me by your voice with folly.[D] Enough, the mystic arrow leaves its wound. Return ye to your silences inborn, Or to your inarticulated sound! _Ador._ Zerah! _Zerah._ Wilt _thou_ rebuke? God hath rebuked me, brother. I am weak. _Ador._ Zerah, my brother Zerah! could I speak Of thee, 'twould be of love to thee. _Zerah._ Thy look Is fixed on earth, as mine upon thy face. Where shall I seek His? I have thrown One look upon earth, but one, Over the blue mountain-lines, Over the forests of palms and pines, Over the harvest-lands golden, Over the valleys that fold in The gardens and vines-- He is not there. All these are unworthy Those footsteps to bear, Before which, bowing down I would fain quench the stars of my crown In the dark of the earthy. Where shall I seek him? No reply? Hath language left thy lips, to place Its vocal in thine eye? Ador, Ador! are we come To a double portent, that Dumb matter grows articulate And songful seraphs dumb? Ador, Ador! _Ador._ I constrain The passion of my silence. None Of those places gazed upon Are gloomy enow to fit his pain. Unto Him, whose forming word Gave to Nature flower and sward. She hath given back again, For the myrtle--the thorn, For the sylvan calm--the human scorn. Still, still, reluctant seraph, gaze beneath! There is a city---- _Zerah._ Temple and tower, Palace and purple would droop like a flower, (Or a cloud at our breath) If He neared in his state The outermost gate. _Ador._ Ah me, not so In the state of a king did the victim go! And THOU who hangest mute of speech 'Twixt heaven and earth, with forehead yet Stainèd by the bloody sweat, God! man! Thou hast forgone thy throne in each. _Zerah._ Thine eyes behold him?