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 Ere the weary task is done? How long, O sister, how long Shall the fragile thread be spun? LACHESIS 'T is mercy that stays her hand, Else she had cut the thread; 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! -- 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 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 Of a passing soul -- The midnight lamentation Of some stricken nation For a Chieftain's soul! It is just begun, The many-throated moan ... Now the clangor swells As if a million bells Had blent their tones in one! Accents of despair Are these to mortal ear; But all this wild funereal music blown And sifted through celestial air Turns to triumphal paeans here! Wave upon wave the silvery anthems flow; Wave upon wave the deep vibrations roll From that dim sphere below. Come, let us go -- Surely, some chieftain's soul! |