Britain ... - Blue-Lite

212 THE DEVOTED ONE. [Act V.
On this enchanted fire, and from afar
The spirits of witchcraft shall the vapour scent,
And to our meeting flock.
THIRD WITCH.
I from the vast and burning desert come,
In which no mortal dwells. Across it passed
The caravan, in all its long array
Of many dyes and forms. The winds awoke,
When far and near those hot and lifeless plains
Their sandy billows rolled, as rolls the fierce
And tempest-troubled sea ; and, darkening heaven,
In crimson pillars like to fire uprose.
Then came in wrath the spirit of those wilds,
Who ever dwells with noiseless solitude,
And breathed upon that thirsty-fainting train
Of many pilgrim tribes. Silence and Death
Were there alone ! I from my cloudy car
Descended, and have here the heart of one
Whose bones lie whitening on that wilderness,
And in the flame, as incense to the powers
Whom we obey, I cast it.
FOURTH WITCH.
I come from where
The plague-fiend o'er the city spread his wings,
And darkness was upon it. Then were heard
Loud wailing, and deep groans, and bitter cries
Of dying agony, mixt with the din
Of reckless drunkenness and maddened riot.
The dead were every where ! and fainter came
Those sounds of mingled wassailry and woe,
Till all were silent. Not a living form
Along the green streets wandered. Here are dews
I from the cold brows brushed of one, who fell