umber,
And their spirits hither bring me;
But their bodies can be portioned
To the monsters of the ocean.
Neptune I shall call and waken;
He will lend me storms and tempests,
Lightnings and mighty thunders,
Which shall in the mission aid thee,
Give an awful grandeur to it;
Like the flowing of great banners,
And as many torches blazing,
And the sounds of drums and trumpets,
Shall be storms, and flames, and thunder."
So the mission goeth forthwith
O'er the still and tranquil waters;
And they waken slumbering Neptune,
Who advanceth storms and tempests;
And the waves rise up in anger,
Foam and hiss in reckless fury;
Thunders bellow martial music;
Lightnings flash their vivid torchlight.
Grand and mighty the procession!
Neptune, in majestic pomp, came
In his chariot, attended
By a myriad mystic beings,
To direct the storms and thunders,
And to rule the foaming billows.
Spake he thus unto the waters:
"Ope your gates, ye billows, open,
That great Sero's host may enter
With the booty they have taken,
And the bodies of their captives,
Which shall in my caverns slumber,
In my rocky halls and grottos."
Then the mighty gates were opened;
And they all went downward, down,
Down into the dark, cold waters,
With their cries and earnest prayers,
Wailings bitter and lamentings.
Woeful was the scene to witness:
Children clinging to their mothers,
Husbands in their wives' embraces,
Brothers by their sisters holding,
Others running wild and madly,
Crying to their gods for succour;
Every heart in very terror
Quailing at the rising future.
But these cries cannot be answered;
They have sought too late for succour;
For the gates are closed upon them,
And the victors have their spirits,
Bearing to their princely Sero,
And their bodies are consigned
To the halls of mighty Neptune.
Then did Sero take the spirits
As the mission brought them to him;
And for every one which entered
By the wicket on his right hand,
Leading to the land of gladness,
Seven by the other entered,
Down into the pit of terrors.

II.

Stood a fair and stately dwelling
In the concourse of the people,
Of the lofty of the people;
Looked it on the smaller buildings
Downward in a scornful manner;
Proud was it of fine appearance,
Proud the people who dwelt in it.
There the arts of every nation
Met with the united purpose
To adorn and to give splendor
To the chambers of this mansion,
To its corridors and landings.
Ottomans of downy vel