When the sounds had ceased, the Baronet and O'Sullivan descended together to the hall, where they found a venerable man, of an engaging aspect and a hale and vigorous frame, but fast descending into the vale of years. They at once perceived that he was one of the wandering ministrels, who occasionally traverse the Principality, keeping alive her fine old music, and the memory of her ancient glory, although he was as superior to the generality of them in appearance, as he was in artistic skill. Sir Monk presented him with a handsome gratuity; and after conversing with him most affably for several minutes, requested him to play "The rising of the Sun," and returned with the Captain to enjoy it, along with the young ladies, in the apartment which they had quitted. Many other of the beautiful and favourite melodies of Cambria followed in succession, and contributed to pass the evening most agreeably, until the travellers retired to rest. (To be continued.)

SCENE I-A part of Erebus; the Spirit of Pestilence seated on a throne of ebony, in the midst of an extensive waste, from which a dense fog is continually rising.

SPIRIT OF PESTILENCE.

SPIRITS! ye who toil beneath,

In thrice-blackened realms of death,
Where the dim Tartarean river
Darkly rolls, and rolls for ever,
As within its waves ye strive
For yet deadlier spells to dive,
From whose vapours may be hurled
Death upon the upper world;
Breathing still unsated strife
'Gainst the elements of life ;-
Spirits from that nether sphere
Do my bidding, haste, appear!

SPIRITS.

Enter Spirits of Tartarus.

We have heard thy potent call,
Beyond the adamantine wall,
By the gulf we may not quit
Till thy summons open it :-

Spirit, at whose throne we bow,
We are ready;—what wouldst thou?

SPIRIT OF PESTILENCE.

To Apollo's high decree

Listen, as it speaks in me:-
Woe to Athens! sudden woe
All her state shall overthrow!
Voiceless left, her princely halls
Shall startle if a footstep falls;
In her lone and silent streets
Man shall loathe the life he meets;
Brother there shall brother fly,
Son shall leave his sire to die;
They that rise with healthful breath,
Ere night shall yield it up to death;
And where they lie, a tainted load,
Shall be their last, unblest abode.
Sudden horror over all

In unbroken gloom shall fall;
For the crimes that hourly rise,
A noisome incense to the skies,
For the boldly impious wrong
That her sons have worked full long,-
Woe to Athens! sudden woe
All her state shall overthrow!"

Thus the God we all obey

Speaks his mandate,-spirits say,

Hide ye in that blind abyss

Spells to do a work like this?

FIRST SPIRIT.

We have vapours, in whose breath
Lurks a darkly sudden death,
Yet so subtle that the air

Tells not of their wanderings there;
Dews that, drawn from Lethe's flood,

Shoot like lightning through the blood;
Filling all the fevered veins

With ten thousand burning pains.
We have yet a deadlier spell
Wrought in deep, volcanic cell,
From the fire that, burning ever,
Knows or rest, or respite never;
This, in fever's fiercest hour,
On the frenzied brain we pour,
Thronging in that space of life
Shapes and sounds with horror rife,
Till the tortured spirit know
All its sense can undergo.
These we wait thy will to bring,
A meet and fateful offering,

With unfailing blight to fall,
And sudden vengeance, over all.

SPIRIT OF PESTILENCE.

This is well. Your work begin,
Fitly yoked with death and sin:
But ere ye the task fulfil,
Hear Apollo's further will:-
"When repentant tears and sighs
From that doomed crowd arise,
When the sin whose deepening dye
Called this vengeance from the sky,
On each soul, a withering shade,
Lies, and looks to heaven for aid,
Then shall mercy step between,
Pouring life where death had been."
Till men own this saving breath,
'Tis yours to speed the work of death;
Now your direst spells prepare,

Hence and seek the

SPIRITS.

upper air.

Brother-spirits, haste away,

Men shall rue our holiday.

[Exeunt Spirits.

SCENE II. OLYMPUS. APOLLO seated, dark clouds rolling beneath

him; Spirits in attendance.

Enter Spirits of Tartarus.

Quick! what tidings bring ye now,
Have ye taught one heart to bow,
One for whose repented sin
The work of mercy may begin?

FIRST SPIRIT OF TARTARUS.
We have crumbled into dust
Things wherein the mighty trust,
Scattering to the heedless wind
All the dreams of human kind.
We have torn from out the heart
Ties that formed of life a part,
Till the earth, made desolate,
Own for it nor love nor hate;
But within the unyielding soul,
Sin hath kept its dark control,
This alone hath mocked our skill,
Working deadlier mischiefs still.

SECOND SPIRIT OF TARTARUS.

Men, ere yet they fall, prolong
The vacant hours with feast and song;
Mingled with the dying groan
Mirth sends forth its wildest tone;
Anguish-cries and shouts of laughing,
Life and death together quaffing.
Reckless of each other's woe,

Men snatch the moments as they go:

Wasting in unholy strife

The last devoted dregs of life;

But around the altar-stone

Grey moss hath twined itself alone;

None have sought that silent spot,
Even to die ;-it is forgot.

APOLLO.

Shapeless messengers of ill,

Hence! and wait my further will.

Exeunt Spirits of Tartarus.

Spirits! ye of gentler birth,
Seek the desolated earth:
If amid that severed crowd
One repentant heart be bowed;
If one short, one broken prayer,
Hath lingered for a moment there,

With the yearning wish to save
Aught it treasured from the grave-
Even for this shall mercy throw
Her healing peace o'er all below;
Haste, ere yet the book of fate

Be sealed, and pity come too late.

[Exeunt Spirits.

SCENE III. OLYMPUS as before; APOLLO; enter Spirits.

APOLLO.

Spirits, welcome! by the glow
Chastened on each thoughtful brow,
Ye have found in earth's despair
Somewhat asking mercy there.

FIRST SPIRIT.

As we cleaved the lower sky,
Shouts of rudest revelry,
Mixed with laughter, to our ear
Proclaimed the grosser earth was near.
In the hall we entered first,

Whence that festive sound had burst;
True, men held a revel there,
But the revel of despair;
In each glazed and hollow eye
Spake its bitter mockery:
One, who sate in gloom apart,

Approached the rest with sudden start,
And as he raised the wine-cup's brim,
Called each to join that pledge with him,
And quaff a goblet to the bride
Who lay a black corse by his side!
Another, who had been a sire,
That morn had seen his child expire,
The last of five, whom heedless fate
Had bowed, and left him desolate !
And as he marked the darkening brow
Of him who slept so calmly now,
One shout of heart-wrung triumph burst,
That death for him had done its worst!

SECOND SPIRIT.

Apart from these, with woe more wild,
A widowed mother watched her child;
Grasping to a fearful heart

Hope that would not all depart,
Till around that sinless thing
Shades of death were gathering;
And its dim and loving eye
Looked up to her quietly,
As the smile upon its cheek
Of a better hope would speak,
Of a love that scarce could go
From its nestling place below!