The Soul of Osiris

90 THE SOUL OF OSIRIS. Quivers before him, whose vast eyebrows bend, A million comets : for his locks extend A million flashing terrors : on his breast He bears a mightier cuirass : for his vest All heaven blazes : for his brows a crown Roars into the abyss : his mighty frown Quells many an universe and many an age— Yea, many eternities ! His nostrils rage With fire and fury, and his feet are shod With all the splendours of the avenging God. I see him and I tremble ! But my hand Still flings its gesture of supreme command Upwards ; my voice still dares to tongue the word That hell and chaos and destruction heard And ruined, shrieking ! yea, my strong voice rolls, That martyr-cry of many slaughtered souls, Utterly potent both to bless and ban— I, I command thee in the name of Man ! He trembled then. And far in thunder rolled Through countless ages, through the infinite gold Beyond existence, grew that master-sound Into the rent and agonized profound, Till even the Highest heard me : and He said, As one who speaks alone among men dead : “ Behold, he rules as I the abyss of flame. For lo ! he knoweth, and hath said, My Name ! ”