98 
THE SOUL OF OSIRIS. 
In vain :  I bid him kneel and swear :  the earth 
Rocked with the terror of that deadlier birth. 
 
He swore :  he vanished :  the wide sky resounds 
 With echoing thunders :  through the blinding night 
The stars resume their courses :  at the bounds 
Of the four watch-towers cry the waking hounds : 
 “ The night is well ” :  slow steals the ambient light 
Through all the borders of the universe 
At that last lifting of my strenuous curse. 
 
Slow steals the ambient light :  white peace resumes 
 In planet, element, and sign, her sway. 
The twisted ether shapes itself :  relumes 
The benediction all the faded fumes 
 With holier incense :  in the fervid way 
All nature rests :  with holy calm I blend 
Blessing and prayer at the appointed end.