_Voices of Fallen Angels from the Earth._ Do we prevail? Or are we lost? Hath not the ill we did Been heretofore our good? Is it not ill that one, all sinless, should Hang heavy with all curses on a cross? Nathless, that cry! With huddled faces hid Within the empty graves which men did scoop To hold more damnèd dead, we shudder through What shall exalt us or undo, Our triumph, or our loss. _Voice from the Cross._ IT IS FINISHED. _Zerah._ Hark, again! Like a victor, speaks the slain. _Angel Voices._ Finished be the trembling vain! _Ador._ Upward, like a well-loved son, Looketh he, the orphaned one. _Angel Voices._ Finished is the mystic pain. _Voices of Fallen Angels._ His deathly forehead at the word, Gleameth like a seraph sword. _Angel Voices._ Finished is the demon reign. _Ador._ His breath, as living God, createth, His breath, as dying man, completeth. _Angel Voices._ Finished work his hands sustain. _The Earth._ In mine ancient sepulchres Where my kings and prophets freeze, Adam dead four thousand years, Unwakened by the universe's Everlasting moan, Aye his ghastly silence mocking-- Unwakened by his children's knocking At his old sepulchral stone, "Adam, Adam, all this curse is Thine and on us yet!"-- Unwakened by the ceaseless tears Wherewith they made his cerement wet, "Adam, must thy curse remain?"-- Starts with sudden life and hears Through the slow dripping of the caverned caves,-- _Angel Voices._ Finished is his bane. _Voice from the Cross._ FATHER! MY SPIRIT TO THINE HANDS IS GIVEN. _Ador._ Hear the wailing winds that be By wings of unclean spirits made! They, in that last look, surveyed The love they lost in losing heaven, And passionately flee With a desolate cry that cleaves The natural storms--though _they_ are lifting God's strong cedar-roots like leaves, And the earthquake and the thunder, Neither keeping either under, Roar and hurtle through the glooms-- And a few pale stars are drifting Past the dark, to disappear, What time, from the splitting tombs Gleamingly the dead arise, Viewing with their death-calmed eyes The elemental strategies, To witness, victory is the Lord's. Hear the wail o' the spirits! hear! _Zerah._ I hear alone the memory of his words. EPILOGUE. I. My song is done. My voice that long hath faltered shall be still. The mystic darkness drops from Calvary's hill Into the common light of this day's sun. II.