A Cloud of Seraphim
(Shrunken to a thin line.) Nor on us—on us? We die! We die! (They slowly fade also.)
Beauty
(Rising and viewing all with weary eyes.) He dreams on me no more—on Beauty no more! Oh, mad, mad, Lord! Oh, fevered, useless dreams! Gone all the sweet Seraphim and Cherubim—the halls of light and wonder—his suns and jewel-stars! His dreams have changed. These his horrors are now his mood. And death—and nothingness—for all of us, his mood! (To DESPAIR.) Hail! Hail! thou unutterable one. (To AMBITION, glowering near.) And thou, great evil one, his torturous swelling thought! Now is thy dark hour! But sleep and nothingness is the end of this for thee and all! Thou wouldst destroy even me, oh evil thing! Yet if he but thought on me, how different! His singing world again! But wait, wait! If he think on thee for long comes death and the end of all this—of thee, as of me! By death, sleep! And by sleep, if he sleep—where then is his thought of thee or me? Pray that he change!