tongue and burning wing. I came, and Man sat caverned with the brute; I nursed him and he rose into a god; I leave him and he withers with the fruit Of ages on the ground his splendour trod. Farewell, you airs and skies from whence I fell, Fond Earth, farewell, and all thy beauty past-- And thou, old pulseless Ocean foe, farewell!--  All dead! I too shall die, though I be last.

Utter silence and utter lifelessness engulf the Globe; the frozen and adamantine bars of oblivion fall.

As the soft sibilant tones of the Fire-daemon flutter away, slowly the spheres recede and vanish in the clasp of Night.

Once more is heard, sweet and clear, the voice of the Spirit of Chaos.

Her music of mercy sinks softly down like star-dust, or as of old dew on terrestrial flowers.

Through the infinite Universe, through Eternity, she sings her everlasting song.

She lulls her endless flocks of worlds asleep; she seals them up in the dark cycles of mutation--or makes them to bloom in the Night.

For they awaken once more when rings aloud the impulsive alternating song of the Spirit of Life, her joyful sister, clad with inevitable day.

Now the solar orbs are overcast with swift eclipse as with a mantle.

They are swept into illimitable abysses.

Above, below and all about gleam vast cohorts and constellations of living stars, pouring crystalline melody from thrones of Light.

Ghosts of worlds drift by, and suns wrapped in extinction.

They too are floating tombs, in them too, Life, Love and Thought lie sepultured like seeds.

Sepultured, until from the mighty marriage of orb with orb in planetary impact shall the great rose of Existence re-unfold its leaves in the light and warmth of suns new-born.

So follow and follow the unending successions of the Seasons of Eternity.

 

 

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