In their dark House of Cloud | |
| The three weird sisters toil till time be sped; | |
| One unwinds life, one ever weaves the shroud, | |
| One waits to part the thread. | |
| |
I.
CLOTHO. How long, O sister, how long | 5 |
| Ere the weary task is done? | |
| How long, O sister, how long | |
| Shall the fragile thread be spun? | |
| |
LACHESIS. ’Tis mercy that stays her hand, | |
| Else she had cut the thread; | 10 |
| She is a woman too, | |
| Like her who kneels by his bed! | |
| |
ATROPOS. Patience! the end is come; | |
| He shall no more endure: | |
| See! with a single touch!— | 15 |
| My hand is swift and sure! | |
| |
II. Two angels pausing in their flight. | |
| |
FIRST ANGEL. Listen! what was it fell | |
| An instant ago on my ear— | |
| A sound like the throb of a bell | 20 |
| From yonder darkling sphere. | |
| |
SECOND ANGEL. The planet where mortals dwell! | |
| I hear it not … yes, I hear; | |
| How it deepens—a sound of dole! | |
| |
FIRST ANGEL. Listen! It is the knell | 25 |
| Of a passing soul— | |
| The midnight lamentation | |
| Of some stricken nation | |
| For a chieftain’s soul! | |
| It is just begun, | 30 |
| The many-throated moan … | |
| Now the clangor swells | |
| As if a million bells | |
| Had blent their tones in one! | |
| Accents of despair | 35 |
| Are these to mortal ear; | |
| But all this wild funereal music blown | |
| And sifted through celestial air | |
| Turns to triumphal pæans here! | |
| Wave upon wave the silvery anthems flow; | 40 |
| Wave upon wave the deep vibrations roll | |
| From that dim sphere below. | |
| Come, let us go— | |
| Surely, some chieftain’s soul! | |
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