Roused at one call, upstarted from one bed, Press'd in one crowd, appall'd with one amaze, He turns them o'er, Eternity! to thee. Then (as a king deposed disdains to live) He falls on his own scythe; nor falls alone: His greatest foe falls with him; Time, and he Who murder'd all Time's offspring, Death, expire. 310 Time was! Eternity now reigns alone: Awful eternity! offended queen! And her resentment to mankind, how just! With kind intent, soliciting access, How often has she knock'd at human hearts! Rich to repay their hospitality; How often call'd! and with the voice of God! Yet bore repulse, excluded as a cheat! A dream! while foulest foes found welcome there! A dream, a cheat, now, all things, but her smile. 320 For, lo! her twice ten thousand gates thrown wide, As thrice from Indus to the frozen pole, With banners streaming as the comet's blaze, And clarions, louder than the deep in storms, Sonorous as immortal breath can blow, 325 Pour forth their myriads, potentates, and powers, Of light, of darkness; in a middle field, Wide, as creation! populous, as wide! A neutral region! there to mark th' event Of that great drama, whose preceding scenes Detain'd them close spectators, through a length Of ages, ripening to this grand result; 332 Ages, as yet unnumber'd, but by God; Who now, pronouncing sentence, vindicates The rights of Virtue, and his own renown. Eternity, the various sentence past, Assigns the sever'd throng distinct abodes, Sulphureous, or ambrosial. What ensues? The deed predominant! the deed of deeds! Which makes a hell of hell, a heaven of heaven. 340 The goddess, with determined aspect, turns Her adamantine key's enormous size Through destiny's inextricable wards, Deep driving every bolt, on both their fates. Then, from the crystal battlements of heaven, Down, down, she hurls it through the dark profound, Ten thousand thousand fathom; there to rust, And ne'er unlock her resolution more. The deep resounds; and hell, through all her glooms, Returns, in groans, the melancholy roar. 350 O how unlike the chorus of the skies! O how unlike those shouts of joy, that shake The whole ethereal! how the concave rings! Nor strange! when deities their voice exalt; And louder far, than when creation rose, To see creation's godlike aim, and end, So well accomplish'd! so divinely closed! To see the mighty dramatist's last act, (As meet), in glory rising o'er the rest. 359 No fancied god, a God indeed, descends, To solve all knots; to strike the moral home; To throw full day on darkest scenes of time; To clear, commend, exalt, and crown the whole. Hence, in one peal of loud, eternal praise, The charm'd spectators thunder their applause;