_Spirit_. Son of the saved! When thou and thine have braved The wide and warring element; When the great barrier of the deep is rent, Shall thou and thine be good or happy?--No! Thy new world and new race shall be of woe-- Less goodly in their aspect, in their years 130 Less than the glorious giants, who Yet walk the world in pride, The Sons of Heaven by many a mortal bride. Thine shall be nothing of the past, save tears! And art thou not ashamed Thus to survive, And eat, and drink, and wive? With a base heart so far subdued and tamed, As even to hear this wide destruction named, Without such grief and courage, as should rather 140 Bid thee await the world-dissolving wave, Than seek a shelter with thy favoured father, And build thy city o'er the drowned earth's grave? Who would outlive their kind, Except the base and blind? Mine Hateth thine As of a different order in the sphere, But not our own. There is not one who hath not left a throne 150 Vacant in heaven to dwell in darkness here, Rather than see his mates endure alone. Go, wretch! and give A life like thine to other wretches--live! And when the annihilating waters roar Above what they have done, Envy the giant patriarchs then no more, And scorn thy sire as the surviving one! Thyself for being his son! _Chorus of Spirits issuing from the cavern_.