THE DEATH OF ULRIC.
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Oh mortal! listen to them. Learn to knowThose earnest voices, whencesoe'er they flow.Watch for them! Listen! Mark them and obey!Follow not thou the Evil One's soft way,For all his art can give. When, at thy side,He stands and whispers thoughts of lust and pride,From his vile spells, by prayer thy spirit free,And break away, how sweet soe'er they be.For sweet, oh God! they are, and his old throneToo firmly set for thee to move alone.Oh, sorcerer! full many a wondrous charmHe knows to banish doubt and hush alarm,Thy eyes to veil, and so to sway thy thought,Clasped in his arms, thou still believest not.All bright things of the earth, oh! mystery!Are sometimes lent, his instruments to be;Nature's fair visions, music, moonlight, love;All that they will may captivate and move,Soft vales and mountains, summer-days and flowers.And golden hopes that wing youth's airy hours,Science and taste and intellect refined,The noble heart and the aspiring mind,The fatal trust in conscious innocenceWhatever wakes the soul, or wins the sense,There lies the dark foe 'mid the roses curled.But One alone can overcome the world.
