FRtitle; E285| THE
FRtitle; E285| FRENCH REVOLUTION. t397
FRtitle; E285| A POEM,
FRtitle; E285| IN SEVEN BOOKS.
FRiii; E286| ADVERTISEMENT.
FR1; E286| The dead brood over Europe, the cloud and vision descends over chearful France;
FR2; E286| O cloud well appointed! Sick, sick: the Prince on his couch, wreath'd in dim
FR3; E286| And appalling mist; his strong hand outstretch'd, from his shoulder down the bone
FR4; E286| Runs aching cold into the scepter too heavy for mortal grasp. No more
FR5; E286| To be swayed by visible hand, nor in cruelty bruise the mild flourishing mountains.
FR6; E286| Sick the mountains, and all their vineyards weep, in the eyes of the kingly mourner;
FR7; E286| Pale is the morning cloud in his visage. Rise, Necker: the ancient dawn calls us
FR8; E286| To awake from slumbers of five thousands years. I awake, but my soul is in dreams;
FR9; E286| From my window I see the old mountains of France, like aged men, fading away.
FR10; E286| Troubled, leaning on Necker, descends the King, to his chamber of council; shady mountains
FR11; E286| In fear utter voices of thunder; the woods of France embosom the sound;
FR12; E286| Clouds of wisdom prophetic reply, and roll over the palace roof heavy,
FR13; E286| Forty men: each conversing with woes in the infinite shadows of his soul,
FR14; E286| Like our ancient fathers in regions of twilight, walk, gathering round the King;
FR15; E286| Again the loud voice of France cries to the morning, the morning prophecies to its clouds.
FR16; E286| For the Commons convene in the Hall of the Nation. France shakes! And the heavens of France
FR17; E286| Perplex'd vibrate round each careful countenance! Darkness of old times around them
FR18; E286| Utters loud despair, shadowing Paris; her grey towers groan, and the Bastile trembles.
FR19; E286| In its terrible towers the Governor stood, in dark fogs list'ning the horror;
FR20; E287| A thousand his soldiers, old veterans of France, breathing red clouds of power and dominion,
FR21; E287| Sudden seiz'd with howlings, despair, and black night, he stalk'd like a lion from tower
FR22; E287| To tower, his howlings were heard in the Louvre; from court to court restless he dragg'd
FR23; E287| His strong limbs; from court to court curs'd the fierce torment unquell'd,
FR24; E287| Howling and giving the dark command; in his soul stood the purple plague,
FR25; E287| Tugging his iron manacles, and piercing through the seven towers dark and sickly,
FR26; E287| Panting over the prisoners like a wolf gorg'd; and the den nam'd Horror held a man
FR27; E287| Chain'd hand and foot, round his neck an iron band, bound to the impregnable wall.
FR28; E287| In his soul was the serpent coil'd round in his heart, hid from the light, as in a cleft rock;
FR29; E287| And the man was confin'd for a writing prophetic: in the tower nam'd Darkness, was a man
FR30; E287| Pinion'd down to the stone floor, his strong bones scarce cover'd with sinews; the iron rings
FR31; E287| Were forg'd smaller as the flesh decay'd, a mask of iron on his face hid the lineaments
FR32; E287| Of ancient Kings, and the frown of the eternal lion was hid from the oppressed earth.
FR33; E287| In the tower named Bloody, a skeleton yellow remained in its chains on its couch
FR34; E287| Of stone, once a man who refus'd to sign papers of abhorrence; the eternal worm
FR35; E287| Crept in the skeleton. In the den nam'd Religion, a loathsome sick woman, bound down
FR36; E287| To a bed of straw; the seven diseases of earth, like birds of prey, stood on the couch,
FR37; E287| And fed on the body. She refus'd to be whore to the Minister, and with a knife smote him.
FR38; E287| In the tower nam'd Order, an old man, whose white beard cover'd the stone floor like weeds
FR39; E287| On margin of the sea, shrivel'd up by heat of day and cold of night; his den was short
FR40; E287| And narrow as a grave dug for a child, with spiders webs wove, and with slime
FR41; E287| Of ancient horrors cover'd, for snakes and scorpions are his companions; harmless they breathe
FR42; E287| His sorrowful breath: he, by conscience urg'd, in the city of Paris rais'd a pulpit,
FR43; E288| And taught wonders to darken'd souls. In the den nam'd Destiny a strong man sat,
FR44; E288| His feet and hands cut off, and his eyes blinded; round his middle a chain and a band
FR45; E288| Fasten'd into the wall; fancy gave him to see an image of despair in his den,
FR46; E288| Eternally rushing round, like a man on his hands and knees, day and night without rest.
FR47; E288| He was friend to the favourite. In the seventh tower, nam'd the tower of God, was a man
FR48; E288| Mad, with chains loose, which he dragg'd up and down; fed with hopes year by year, he pined
FR49; E288| For liberty; vain hopes: his reason decay'd, and the world of attraction in his bosom
FR50; E288| Center'd, and the rushing of chaos overwhelm'd his dark soul. He was confin'd
FR51; E288| For a letter of advice to a King, and his ravings in winds are heard over Versailles.
FR54; E288| For the Commons convene in the Hall of the Nation; like spirits of fire in the beautiful
FR55; E288| Porches of the Sun, to plant beauty in the desart craving abyss, they gleam
FR56; E288| On the anxious city; all children new-born first behold them; tears are fled,
FR57; E288| And they nestle in earth-breathing bosoms. So the city of Paris, their wives and children,
FR58; E288| Look up to the morning Senate, and visions of sorrow leave pensive streets.
FR59; E288| But heavy brow'd jealousies lower o'er the Louvre, and terrors of ancient Kings
FR60; E288| Descend from the gloom and wander thro' the palace, and weep round the King and his Nobles.
FR61; E288| While loud thunders roll, troubling the dead, Kings are sick throughout all the earth,
FR62; E288| The voice ceas'd: the Nation sat: And the triple forg'd fetters of times were unloos'd.
FR63; E288| The voice ceas'd: the Nation sat: but ancient darkness and trembling wander thro' the palace.
FR64; E288| As in day of havock and routed battle, among thick shades of discontent,
FR65; E289| On the soul-skirting mountains of sorrow cold waving: the Nobles fold round the King,
FR66; E289| Each stern visage lock'd up as with strong bands of iron, each strong limb bound down as with marble,
FR67; E289| In flames of red wrath burning, bound in astonishment a quarter of an hour.
FR68; E289| Then the King glow'd: his Nobles fold round, like the sun of old time quench'd in clouds;
FR69; E289| In their darkness the King stood, his heart flam'd, and utter'd a with'ring heat, and these words burst forth:
FR72; E289| I see thro' darkness, thro' clouds rolling round me, the spirits of ancient Kings
FR73; E289| Shivering over their bleached bones; round them their counsellors look up from the dust,
FR74; E289| Crying: Hide from the living! Our b[a]nds and our prisoners shout in the open field, t398
FR75; E289| Hide in the nether earth! Hide in the bones! Sit obscured in the hollow scull.
FR76; E289| Our flesh is corrupted, and we [wear] away. We are not numbered among the living. Let us hide
FR77; E289| In stones, among roots of trees. The prisoners have burst their dens,
FR78; E289| Let us hide; let us hide in the dust; and plague and wrath and tempest shall cease.
FR79; E289| He ceas'd, silent pond'ring, his brows folded heavy, his forehead was in affliction,
FR80; E289| Like the central fire: from the window he saw his vast armies spread over the hills,
FR81; E289| Breathing red fires from man to man, and from horse to horse; then his bosom
FR82; E289| Expanded like starry heaven, he sat down: his Nobles took their ancient seats.
FR83; E289| Then the ancientest Peer, Duke of Burgundy, rose from the Monarch's right hand, red as wines
FR84; E289| From his mountains, an odor of war, like a ripe vineyard, rose from his garments,
FR85; E289| And the chamber became as a clouded sky; o'er the council he stretch'd his red limbs,
FR86; E290| Cloth'd in flames of crimson, as a ripe vineyard stretches over sheaves of corn,
FR87; E290| The fierce Duke hung over the council; around him croud, weeping in his burning robe,
FR88; E290| A bright cloud of infant souls; his words fall like purple autumn on the sheaves.
FR89; E290| Shall this marble built heaven become a clay cottage, this earth an oak stool, and these mowers
FR90; E290| From the Atlantic mountains, mow down all this great starry harvest of six thousand years?
FR91; E290| And shall Necker, the hind of Geneva, stretch out his crook'd sickle o'er fertile France,
FR92; E290| Till our purple and crimson is faded to russet, and the kingdoms of earth bound in sheaves,
FR93; E290| And the ancient forests of chivalry hewn, and the joys of the combat burnt for fuel;
FR94; E290| Till the power and dominion is rent from the pole, sword and scepter from sun and moon,
FR95; E290| The law and gospel from fire and air, and eternal reason and science
FR96; E290| From the deep and the solid, and man lay his faded head down on the rock
FR97; E290| Of eternity, where the eternal lion and eagle remain to devour?
FR98; E290| This to prevent, urg'd by cries in day, and prophetic dreams hovering in night,
FR99; E290| To enrich the lean earth that craves, furrow'd with plows; whose seed is departing from her;
FR100; E290| Thy Nobles have gather'd thy starry hosts round this rebellious city,
FR101; E290| To rouze up the ancient forests of Europe, with clarions of cloud breathing war; t399
FR102; E290| To hear the horse neigh to the drum and trumpet, and the trumpet and war shout reply;
FR103; E290| Stretch the hand that beckons the eagles of heaven; they cry over Paris, and wait
FR104; E290| Till Fayette point his finger to Versailles; the eagles of heaven must have their prey. t400
FR105; E290| The King lean'd on his mountains, then lifted his head and look'd on his armies, that shone
FR106; E290| Through heaven, tinging morning with beams of blood, then turning to Burgundy troubled:
FR108; E291| For the Nobles of France, and dark mists roll round me and blot the writing of God
FR109; E291| Written in my bosom. Necker rise, leave the kingdom, thy life is surrounded with snares;
FR110; E291| We have call'd an Assembly, but not to destroy; we have given gifts, not to the weak;
FR111; E291| I hear rushing of muskets, and bright'ning of swords, and visages redd'ning with war, t401
FR112; E291| Frowning and looking up from brooding villages and every dark'ning city;
FR113; E291| Ancient wonders frown over the kingdom, and cries of women and babes are heard,
FR114; E291| And tempests of doubt roll around me, and fierce sorrows, because of the Nobles of France;
FR115; E291| Depart, answer not, for the tempest must fall, as in years that are passed away.
FR116; E291| He ceas'd, and burn'd silent, red clouds roll round Necker, a weeping is heard o'er the palace;
FR117; E291| Like a dark cloud Necker paus'd, and like thunder on the just man's burial day he paus'd;
FR118; E291| Silent sit the winds, silent the meadows, while the husbandman and woman of weakness
FR119; E291| And bright children look after him into the grave, and water his clay with love,
FR120; E291| Then turn towards pensive fields; so Necker paus'd, and his visage was cover'd with clouds.
FR121; E291| Dropping a tear the old man his place left, and when he was gone out
FR122; E291| He set his face toward Geneva to flee, and the women and children of the city
FR123; E291| Kneel'd round him and kissed his garments and wept; he stood a short space in the street,
FR124; E291| Then fled; and the whole city knew he was fled to Geneva, and the Senate heard it.
FR125; E291| But the Nobles burn'd wrathful at Necker's departure, and wreath'd their clouds and waters
FR126; E291| In dismal volumes; as risen from beneath the Archbishop of Paris arose,
FR127; E291| In the rushing of scales and hissing of flames and rolling of sulphurous smoke.
FR129; E292| Sleeping at midnight in my golden tower, the repose of the labours of men
FR130; E292| Wav'd its solemn cloud over my head. I awoke; a cold hand passed over my limbs, and behold
FR131; E292| An aged form, white as snow, hov'ring in mist, weeping in the uncertain light,
FR132; E292| Dim the form almost faded, tears fell down the shady cheeks; at his feet many cloth'd
FR133; E292| In white robes, strewn in air sensers and harps, silent they lay prostrated;
FR134; E292| Beneath, in the awful void, myriads descending and weeping thro' dismal winds,
FR135; E292| Endless the shady train shiv'ring descended, from the gloom where the aged form wept.
FR136; E292| At length, trembling, the vision sighing, in a low voice, like the voice of the grasshopper whisper'd:
FR137; E292| My groaning is heard in the abbeys, and God, so long worshipp'd, departs as a lamp
FR138; E292| Without oil; for a curse is heard hoarse thro' the land, from a godless race
FR139; E292| Descending to beasts; they look downward and labour and forget my holy law;
FR140; E292| The sound of prayer fails from lips of flesh, and the holy hymn from thicken'd tongues;
FR141; E292| For the bars of Chaos are burst; her millions prepare their fiery way
FR142; E292| Thro' the orbed abode of the holy dead, to root up and pull down and remove,
FR143; E292| And Nobles and Clergy shall fail from before me, and my cloud and vision be no more;
FR144; E292| The mitre become black, the crown vanish, and the scepter and ivory staff
FR145; E292| Of the ruler wither among bones of death; thy shall consume from the thistly field,
FR146; E292| And the sound of the bell, and voice of the sabbath, and singing of the holy choir,
FR147; E292| Is turn'd into songs of the harlot in day, and cries of the virgin in night.
FR148; E292| They shall drop at the plow and faint at the harrow, unredeem'd, unconfess'd, unpardon'd;
FR149; E292| The priest rot in his surplice by the lawless lover, the holy beside the accursed,
FR150; E292| The King, frowning in purple, beside the grey plowman, and their worms embrace together.
FR151; E292| The voice ceas'd, a groan shook my chamber; I slept, for the cloud of repose returned,
FR152; E293| But morning dawn'd heavy upon me. I rose to bring my Prince heaven utter'd counsel.
FR153; E293| Hear my counsel, O King, and send forth thy Generals, the command of heaven is upon thee;
FR154; E293| Then do thou command, O King, to shut up this Assembly in their final home;
FR155; E293| Let thy soldiers possess this city of rebels, that threaten to bathe their feet
FR156; E293| In the blood of Nobility; trampling the heart and the head; let the Bastile devour
FR157; E293| These rebellious seditious; seal them up, O Anointed, in everlasting chains.
FR158; E293| He sat down, a damp cold pervaded the Nobles, and monsters of worlds unknown
FR159; E293| Swam round them, watching to be delivered; When Aumont, whose chaos-born soul
FR160; E293| Eternally wand'ring a Comet and swift-failing fire, pale enter'd the chamber;
FR161; E293| Before the red Council he stood, like a man that returns from hollow graves.
FR162; E293| Awe surrounded, alone thro' the army a fear ad a with'ring blight blown by the north;
FR163; E293| The Abbe de Seyes from the Nation's Assembly. O Princes and Generals of France
FR164; E293| Unquestioned, unhindered, awe-struck are the soldiers; a dark shadowy man in the form
FR165; E293| Of King Henry the Fourth walks before him in fires, the captains like men bound in chains
FR166; E293| Stood still as he pass'd, he is come to the Louvre, O King, with a message to thee;
FR167; E293| The strong soldiers tremble, the horses their manes bow, and the guards of thy palace are fled.
FR168; E293| Up rose awful in his majestic beams Bourbon's strong Duke; his proud sword from his thigh
FR169; E293| Drawn, he threw on the Earth! the Duke of Bretagne and the Earl of Borgogne
FR170; E293| Rose inflam'd, to and fro in the chamber, like thunder-clouds ready to burst.
FR175; E294| Then Orleans generous as mountains arose, and unfolded his robe, and put forth
FR176; E294| His benevolent hand, looking on the Archbishop, who changed as pale as lead;
FR177; E294| Would have risen but could not, his voice issued harsh grating; instead of words harsh hissings
FR178; E294| Shook the chamber; he ceas'd abash'd. Then Orleans spoke, all was silent,
FR179; E294| He breath'd on them, and said, O princes of fire, whose flames are for growth not consuming,
FR180; E294| Fear not dreams, fear not visions, nor be you dismay'd with sorrows which flee at the morning;
FR181; E294| Can the fires of Nobility ever be quench'd, or the stars by a stormy night?
FR182; E294| Is the body diseas'd when the members are healthful? can the man be bound in sorrow
FR183; E294| Whose ev'ry function is fill'd with its fiery desire? can the soul whose brain and heart
FR184; E294| Cast their rivers in equal tides thro' the great Paradise, languish because the feet
FR185; E294| Hands, head, bosom, and parts of love, follow their high breathing joy?
FR186; E294| And can Nobles be bound when the people are free, or God weep when his children are happy?
FR187; E294| Have you never seen Fayette's forehead, or Mirabeau's eyes, or the shoulders of Target,
FR188; E294| Or Bailly he strong foot of France, or Clermont the terrible voice, and your robes
FR189; E294| Still retain their own crimson? mine never yet faded, for fire delights in its form.
FR190; E294| But go, merciless man! enter into the infinite labyrinth of another's brain
FR191; E294| Ere thou measure the circle that he shall run. Go, thou cold recluse, into the fires
FR192; E294| Of another's high flaming rich bosom, and return unconsum'd, and write laws.
FR193; E294| If thou canst not do this, doubt thy theories, learn to consider all men as thy equals,
FR194; E294| Thy brethren, and not as thy foot or thy hand, unless thou first fearest to hurt them.
FR198; E295| Aumont went out and stood in the hollow porch, his ivory wand in his hand;
FR199; E295| A cold orb of disdain revolv'd round him, and covered his soul with snows eternal.
FR200; E295| Great Henry's soul shuddered, a whirlwind and fire tore furious from his angry bosom;
FR201; E295| He indignant departed on horses of heav'n. Then the Abbe de Seyes rais'd his feet
FR202; E295| On the steps of the Louvre, like a voice of God following a storm, the Abbe follow'd
FR203; E295| The pale fires of Aumont into the chamber, as a father that bows to his son;
FR204; E295| Whose rich fields inheriting spread their old glory, so the voice of the people bowed
FR205; E295| Before the ancient seat of the kingdom and mountains to be renewed.
FR206; E295| Hear, O Heavens of France, the voice of the people, arising from valley and hill,
FR207; E295| O'erclouded with power. Hear the voice of vallies, the voice of meek cities,
FR208; E295| Mourning oppressed on village and field, till the village and field is a waste.
FR209; E295| For the husbandman weeps at blights of the fife, and blasting of trumpets consume
FR210; E295| The souls of mild France; the pale mother nourishes her child to the deadly slaughter.
FR211; E295| When the heavens were seal'd with a stone, and the terrible sun clos'd in an orb, and the moon
FR212; E295| Rent from the nations, and each star appointed for watchers of night,
FR213; E295| The millions of spirits immortal were bound in the ruins of sulphur heaven
FR214; E295| To wander inslav'd; black, deprest in dark ignorance, kept in awe with the whip,
FR215; E295| To worship terrors, bred from the blood of revenge and breath of desire,
FR216; E295| In beastial forms; or more terrible men, till the dawn of our peaceful morning,
FR217; E296| Till dawn, till morning, till the breaking of clouds, and swelling of winds, and the universal voice,
FR218; E296| Till man raise his darken'd limbs out of the caves of night, his eyes and his heart
FR219; E296| Expand: where is space! where O Sun is thy dwelling! where thy tent, O faint slumb'rous Moon,
FR220; E296| Then the valleys of France shall cry to the soldier, throw down thy sword and musket,
FR221; E296| And run and embrace the meek peasant. Her nobles shall hear and shall weep, and put off
FR222; E296| The red robe of terror, the crown of oppression, the shoes of contempt, and unbuckle
FR223; E296| The girdle of war from the desolate earth; then the Priest in his thund'rous cloud
FR224; E296| Shall weep, bending to earth embracing the valleys, and putting his hand to the plow,
FR225; E296| Shall say, no more I curse thee; but now I will bless thee: No more in deadly black
FR226; E296| Devour thy labour; nor lift up a cloud in thy heavens, O laborious plow,
FR227; E296| That the wild raging millions, that wander in forests, and howl in law blasted wastes,
FR228; E296| Strength madden'd with slavery, honesty, bound in the dens of superstition,
FR229; E296| May sing in the village, and shout in the harvest, and woo in pleasant gardens,
FR230; E296| Their once savage loves, now beaming with knowledge, with gentle awe adorned;
FR231; E296| And the saw, and the hammer, the chisel, the pencil, the pen, and the instruments
FR232; E296| Of heavenly song sound in the wilds once forbidden, to teach the laborious plowman
FR233; E296| And shepherd deliver'd from clouds of war, from pestilence, from night-fear, from murder,
FR234; E296| From falling, from stifling, from hunger, from cold, from slander, discontent and sloth;
FR235; E296| That walk in beasts and birds of night, driven back by the sandy desart
FR236; E296| Like pestilent fogs round cities of men: and the happy earth sing in its course,
FR237; E296| The mild peaceable nations be opened to heav'n, and men walk with their fathers in bliss.
FR238; E296| Then hear the first voice of the morning: Depart, O clouds of night, and no more
FR241; E297| He ended; the wind of contention arose and the clouds cast their shadows, the Princes
FR242; E297| Like the mountains of France, whose aged trees utter an awful voice, and their branches
FR243; E297| Are shatter'd, till gradual a murmur is heard descending into the valley,
FR244; E297| Like a voice in the vineyards of Burgundy, when grapes are shaken on grass;
FR245; E297| Like the low voice of the labouring man, instead of the shout of joy;
FR246; E297| And the palace appear'd like a cloud driven abroad; blood ran down, the ancient pillars,
FR247; E297| Thro' the cloud a deep thunder, the Duke of Burgundy, delivers the King's command.
FR248; E297| Seest thou yonder dark castle, that moated around, keeps this city of Paris in awe.
FR249; E297| Go command yonder tower, saying, Bastile depart, and take thy shadowy course.
FR250; E297| Overstep the dark river, thou terrible tower, and get thee up into the country ten miles.
FR251; E297| And thou black southern prison, move along the dusky road to Versailles; there
FR252; E297| Frown on the gardens, and if it obey and depart, then the King will disband
FR253; E297| This war-breathing army; but if it refuse, let the Nation's Assembly thence learn,
FR254; E297| That this army of terrors, that prison of horrors, are the bands of the murmuring kingdom.
FR255; E297| Like the morning star arising above the black waves, when a shipwreck'd soul sighs for morning,
FR256; E297| Thro' the ranks, silent, walk'd the Ambassador back to the Nation's Assembly, and told
FR257; E297| The unwelcome message; silent they heard; then a thunder roll'd round loud and louder,
FR258; E297| Like pillars of ancient halls, and ruins of times remote they sat.
FR259; E297| Like a voice from the dim pillars Mirabeau rose; the thunders subsided away;
FR262; E298| Sudden as the bullet wrapp'd in his fire, when brazen cannons rage in the field,
FR263; E298| Fayette sprung from his seat saying, Ready! then bowing like clouds, man toward man, the Assembly
FR264; E298| Like a council of ardors seated in clouds, bending over the cities of men,
FR265; E298| And over the armies of strife, where their children are marshall'd together to battle;
FR266; E298| They murmuring divide, while the wind sleeps beneath, and the numbers are counted in silence,
FR267; E298| While they vote the removal of War, and the pestilence weighs his red wings in the sky.
FR268; E298| So Fayette stood silent among the Assembly, and the votes were given and the numbers numb'red;
FR269; E298| And the vote was, that Fayette should order the army to remove ten miles from Paris.
FR270; E298| The aged sun rises appall'd from dark mountains, and gleams a dusky beam
FR271; E298| On Fayette, but on the whole army a shadow, for a cloud on the eastern hills
FR272; E298| Hover'd, and stretch'd across the city and across the army, and across the Louvre,
FR273; E298| Like a flame of fire he stood before dark ranks, and before expecting captains
FR274; E298| On pestilent vapours around him flow frequent spectres of religious men weeping
FR275; E298| In winds driven out of the abbeys, their naked souls shiver in keen open air,
FR276; E298| Driven out by the fiery cloud of Voltaire, and thund'rous rocks of Rousseau,
FR277; E298| They dash like foam against the ridges of the army, uttering a faint feeble cry.
FR278; E298| Gleams of fire streak the heavens, and of sulpur the earth, from Fayette as he lifted his hand;
FR279; E298| But silent he stood, till all the officers rush round him like waves
FR280; E298| Round the shore of France, in day of the British flag, when heavy cannons
FR281; E298| Affright the coasts, and the peasant looks over the sea and wipes a tear;
FR282; E298| Over his head the soul of Voltaire shone fiery, and over the army Rousseau his white cloud
FR287; E299| Rushing along iron ranks glittering the officers each to his station
FR288; E299| Depart, and the stern captain strokes his proud steed, and in front of his solid ranks
FR289; E299| Waits the sound of trumpet; captains of foot stand each by his cloudy drum;
FR290; E299| Then the drum beats, and the steely ranks move, and trumpets rejoice in the sky.
FR291; E299| Dark cavalry like clouds fraught with thunder ascend on the hills, and bright infantry, rank
FR292; E299| Behind rank, to the soul shaking drum and shrill fife along the roads glitter like fire.
FR293; E299| The noise of trampling, the wind of trumpets, smote the palace walls with a blast.
FR294; E299| Pale and cold sat the king in midst of his peers, and his noble heart stink, and his pulses
FR295; E299| Suspended their motion, a darkness crept over his eye-lids, and chill cold sweat
FR296; E299| Sat round his brows faded in faint death, his peers pale like mountains of the dead,
FR297; E299| Cover'd with dews of night, groaning, shaking forests and floods. The cold newt
FR298; E299| And snake, and damp toad, on the kingly foot crawl, or croak on the awful knee,
FR299; E299| Shedding their slime, in folds of the robe the crown'd adder builds and hisses
FR300; E299| From stony brows; shaken the forests of France, sick the kings of the nations,
FR301; E299| And the bottoms of the world were open'd, and the graves of arch-angels unseal'd;
FR302; E299| The enormous dead, lift up their pale fires and look over the rocky cliffs.