552 THE PHAKTOM LAND. 



" Thy wild notes rather would appear to me 

 To aggravate the pangs which I deplore ; 



! better had I cast thee in the sea 



Than that thy tones should render worse a shore 

 Peopled with no associates for me, 

 And thou in my distress shouldst ever be 

 My solace and my comforter no more. 



Farewell then, my companion ! we now part ; 

 This is thy last this is thy last sad strain ! 

 Thy agonizing tones make my tears start 



1 little thought thou e'er wouldst give me pain ; 

 Thou hast deceived me, and I find thou art 



A foe that I have folded to my heart. 



I never more will touch thy chords again." 



With that he threw his harp upon the ground 

 In sullen wrath ; like one that had applied 

 To the last source of joy still left and found 

 Sorrow instead of joy solace denied 

 And his last hope cut off. Darkly he frowned, 

 And cast a shivering sense of terror round ; 

 Whereat I pressed the closer to my guide. 



Anon the phantom turned his eyes on me 

 With a stern, steady glance, and fiercely said, 

 " I recognize this stranger j thou art he 

 Whom I pursued, while yet above the dead 

 I rode upon the storm a spirit free ; 

 And well nigh sunk thy bark in the deep sea, 

 And rolled the eternal billows o'er thy head. 



" What art thou doing here ? I fain would know. 



Art thou come hither as a secret spy ? 



Or com'st thou to reproach me, and bestow 



Thy taunts on one who lately soared so high, 



But now by sad reverse has sunk so low ? 



I warn thee hence I counsel thee to go : 



Dost thou refuse ? Once more I bid thee fly." 



I stood unmoved : with that deep wrath and pride 

 Wrung his expressive face though fallen, still fair ; 

 And in the warmth of malice dignified, 

 He would have sprung from off his rocky lair 

 To drive me from him ; which, when fate denied, 

 He turned his face, and strove his wrath to hide ; '- 

 A more than earthly chain transfixed him there. 



The angel then conducted me away 



Out of that angry phantom's sight, and said, 



" My son ! so fares it when the mind's clear ray 



Is darkened and perverted, and instead 



Of bursting forth into the light of day, 



Burns to the socket in its urn of clay, 



Like a faint flickering lamp that lights the dead. 





