ODES. 149 



And guide the wakeful helmsman's eye 

 To Helice in northern sky ; 

 And there upon the ruck inclined 

 "With mighty visions fill'st the mind, 

 Such as bound in magic spell 

 Him* who grasped the gates of Hell, 

 And bursting Pluto's dark domain 

 Held to the day the Terrors of his reign. 



Genius of Horror and romantic awe, 



Whose eye explores the secrets of the deep. 

 Whose power can bid the rebel fluids creep, 



Can force the inmost soul to own its law ; 

 Who shall now, sublimest spirit, 

 Who shall now thy wand inherit. 

 From himf thy darling child who best 

 Thy shuddering images exprest ? 

 Sullen of soul, and stern and proud, 

 His gloomy spirit spurned the crowd, 

 And now he lays his aching head 



In the dark mansion of the silent dead. 



Mighty Magician ! long thy wand has lain 

 Buried beneath the unfathomable deep ; 

 And oh ! for ever must its efforts sleep, 

 May none the mystic sceptre e'er regain ? 

 Oh yes, "tis his ! — Thy other son 

 He throws thy dark- wrought Tunic on, 

 Fuesslin waves thy wand. — again they rise, 

 Again thy wildering forms salute our ravished eyes. 

 Him didst tliou cradle on the dizzy steep 



Where round his head the volley'd lightnings flung. 

 And the loud winds that round his pillow rung 

 Woo'd the stern infant to the arms of sleep. 



Or the highest top of Teneritfe, 

 Seated the fearless Boy, and bade him lock 



Where far below the weather-beaten skiff 

 On the gulf bottom of the ocean strook. 



* Dante. t Ibitl. 



