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IVAN

II Deep in the earth below its cover thin

The frozen crust discolored by the line

Of changing vapors round its throbbing rim;

Beneath the dwelling place of man who crawls

A puny ant within an atmosphere

Of night compared to that of universe;

Within its deepest heart where raging leap

The dark volcanic fires in anger red

And wild, awaiting but the appointed hour

Of earth's destruction swift, in whirlwinds high

To leap in might from prison depths below,

To envelop in its furious rage the earth.

With sinuous flame the deep unfathomed sea,

Destro3dng all the fortresses of man;

There is the citadel of Satan's might,

Which built upon a scarlet flood of fire

In terror floats within a circling dome,

A place of woe designed by cruel hand

Of demon in his spite to torture man

Who dares to fall within his service dread,

An inquisition dai'k and terrible.

An everlasting pit of punishment.

Upon a throne as black and horrible

As night of deep volcanic pit below.

The sharp and jagged walls of which ascend

In smouldering red and lava's seething flood,

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Where all was full of loneliness and fear

And silence shrieked below the ear of man;

In anger furious and disregard

Of writhing form of mortal far below,

Amidst a hissing swarm of serpents dread,

Appeared the form of Tophet's ruler, high

Enthroned upon the gloom of ebon rock,

Which by the hand of demon furious rent

Until it seemed a black and hopeless ruin

Cast upon a raging sea of flame,

Was shapeless and deformed as broken stone

Rejected heaped beside a broken wall

Of wild deserted realm afar and lone

Where ghastly roam the shrieking ghouls of night

Bewailing in their hideousness the gloom

And terror of that strange deserted place.

There, veiled in cloud of red ascending flame. The form of Hell's appalling ruler sate In scarlet majesty, unclothed in might Of endless death; a serpent coiled to spring. With sharp metallic cry and scornful head. Upon its charmed prey, with venomed tooth Exposed to view and sparkling eyes that gleamed In deep enthralling spell of glittering hate, Envenomed woe, and fume of poisonous fang Which sinks so oft within the human heart. The spell of demon wrath was like a cloud Of dreadful joain and strife imprisoned in The circling dome, escaping to the earth. He frowned as monarchs frown who darkly see Their dread commands by vassals disobeyed. And raved as demons rave against the might

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That keeps them bound to wailing earth and Hell, And writhed as serpents writhe in mortal pain When crushed beneath the scornful heel of man.

At length a deafening roar which shook the throne Announced a visitor at the iron door Which opened in the side of crater dim And rose in gloom above the ascending flame. The frown on Satan's scarlet face had fled And left a deep sarcastic smile which grew In bitter hate, as slowly he arose, Extending evil form as genii high Until above the door his scarlet head As scorpion appeared in fiery glow Of dread malignity. With awful crash The gate was opened wide, emitting flame That rushing to escape .from out the pit Bore hissing serpents on its lurid train; But swift upon the fire recoiling then The gate was shut with crash more fearful than The first which rent the boiling depths below, And by the dread and mighty ruler stood His greatest vassal, mighty prince of Hell, The black and scowling, hideous Baalzebub.

''Thou dark unfaithful knave, thou cursed one, Thou disobedient, black, rebellious slave, Thou hideous — thou traitor to my cause ! Ungrateful wretch whom I have settled o'er The human horde of Northmen rude and wild, Deceitful Woden thou to make thyself A god above thy master's regal head; To cause unseeing man to bow before

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Thy hideous form and worship thee as god. Usurped prerogative was not thy crime. I pardoned that; but now thine arrogance, Malicious knave, is more than I can bear. Why tarried tliou when lord of mighty Hell, The maker of its pit, the dungeons red. Commanded yesterday thy presence here? Thou dilatory wretch, upon thy knees Bow down and worship me ! Why hesitate ? Perform the rite mine anger to appease. Or thou shalt rue thy disobedience This woeful day in fiery pit of Hell."

"Ho! ho!" in bitter scorn laughed Baalzebub, In tones that rang as hoarse as thunder's crash And angry as the lightning's vivid flash Against a dark terrific sky of night. The sharp and glistening teeth protruded from His ebon lips, whereon the crimson stain Of human blood was seen. "Thy fury cease. Thy rage at my forbidden stay shall turn To glee, for soon the walls of deepest Hell Shall ring with tortured cry of mortal soul. ' ' His voice was like the roar of mighty storm Which strikes in furious might upon the shore, When slowly from his flaming heart he drew In scornful wrath a hundred writhing souls Of northmen done to death in bloody war Upon the earth, and held them shrieking o'er The brink of cauldron bottomless and red And awful in its strange terrific gloom, With clouds of suffocating vapors wild And fragTaents of a broken mineral

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Revolving at the source of gravity

Which cruelly rent the inmates whirling there.

"Bravely hast thou fought," he raved in storm

Above the wailing ones who scorching hung

In fear upon his black, gigantic hand,

While Satan sat and smiled in scarlet glee.

In irony, upon his mighty throne.

''Well fought the battle, and the victory

Now doth the hated Emperor bereave

The death of those whom thou didst justly slay;

He weeps for thee beyond his mighty arm

That stretcheth down to gate of Hell, secure

Against his solemn might. Why dost thou shriek

So wildly, as in fear of his defeat?

On earth thou wouldst have laughed in scornful glee

When told of such a victory 'gainst his throne;

But traitorous slaves to his great majesty

Thou art, and traitors doubtless to the reign

Of him who sits before thy glazing eyes.

Thou art but dogs, to his allegiance

Unfaithful as the light; and for thy fear

I cast thee cursed down into the pit

Of death to lie and burn f orevermore. "

He shook from scornful hand the souls of those,

Misguided by his mind upon the earth.

Who fell into an awful pit, amid

Its wailing throng of unseen sufferers,

And gloated in derision o'er their pain.

From out the fiery den came frightful cry

Of endless woe and lamentation deep

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As raging- storm at sea: "0 Lord, by thee Forsaken, in the depths of Hell we cry, 'Help! Help!' The arrows pierce the soul, The hungry fiame the blood drinks up, the gleam Of angry serpents hideous have changed The heart to stone, and scorpions writhe about The tortured form of soul; the blackest night The eyes have wrapped in dread temflc gloom ; But shriek is heard and moan of those who cry In vain to Thee ; the very life is but A hungry flame consuming with remorse And endless bitterness the tortured mind For those transgressions red upon the earth. Thou canst not aid us now; upon the soul The gates of Hell forever closed — Too late We cry unto Thy majesty on high."

''Shut down that door!" then Satan cried in storm.

In anger red, ''It is the endless cry

To Him who mighty rules on high, that proud,

Majestic One, whose glory I detest.

Pour out the oil on those who shriek to Him.

I'll teach the fools that I am master here.

What tidings bringest thou, Baalzebub,

Of those who strive against the Emperor?

How goes the battle now? Is there a chance

To win by means of thy rude worshippers?

If not, the Turk I'll lead with subtle arm

Against His throne omnipotent, and drive

Him off the earth, which doth belong to me;

The jealous God who rules the universe.

Who will not leave to me the souls of men,

I'll drive in terror from His chosen sea:t;

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Ah yet I'll rise and throw Him from the throne

And rule in power all, committing Him

To a place ten thousand times as hideous

And black as this. How goes the deadly strife,

Religious war upon the northern earth?

Shall victory perch upon the standard there?"

With ringing clash the iron door of pit Was closed by dark and evil Baalzebub, Who stood a mighty weight upon the lid. And with a smile of fiendish glee inclined A wolfish ear of cunning hate toward His master's throne in fiery prominence. With grimace bold and bloated bloody eye He gazed about as though in secret fear Of unseen listener, then coarsely deep, A cloven hoof upon the iron door, In loud and diabolic tones replied : ''Since to this dungeon deep I brought the soul Of him who was their Leader, dark and bold, They have arisen mighty, listening now In eagerness to words of deepest hate, Which pour into the base and willing ear By ministers of thine. So far is won The victory, and even though thou rage, I am a worshipped god; and hanging on Their evil minds in dark descending cloud, Their stubborn intellects have chosen me A god, as in primeval days of old They prayed to thee as Woden strong and high, So now they adore me in a similar form.

But dark the strife doth rage, for even though I hang upon the very breathing soul,

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There's some who will not honor mei, but cling In stubbornness to thy Great Enemy. They fight with bloody hand and fall to death. The realm is but a place of flowing blood; And angels of the light, accursed host, 'erhang the frenzied step and strive to stay The wrathful hand with foolish words of love. Could I but cast them howling down into The seething pit, the victory would be mine. There is a nobleman who used to dwell At Oelmar, and whose mother honors me, A lady proud, whom I shall laugh to see Go shrieking down into this dungeon deep; Shall laugh to see her meet her honored lord Who sereameth here. She followed him on earth And left the halls of Him who scorneth thee; Within the Leader's mighty step she comes, And to this place shall follow him, to Hell. The victory's mine if I could gain the son; He has the arms and vassals of his Lord."

In fury Satan rose from off his throne. ' ' HO ! Slaves ! my armor bring. Too long Have I in desuetude remained here. Put on each deadly scale and bind it firm With skillful hand. I must not tarry now When such a prize appeareth on the earth. Give me a dart, a sheath of arrows sharp And poisoned in the blood of serpents red. The battle I must lead. Sweet Baalzebub, Go hang upon the son as mantle Avrapped About his proud and scornful countenance, And thou shalt drag him slowly down to death

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With cunning thought of hate, with every wile, Until his heart shall change to blackest night; Until his soul be changed to hate what thou Dost hate, and love what thou shalt have him to. mighty Baalzebub, what if they call Thee god, it better pleases me, for thus His scorn my diadem shall crush. Lead on. And thou shalt see how Satan tempteth man ! The mighty Emperor shall fall, the throne, His cursed seat upon the earth, shall in Destruction fall, and crumbling into dust, To fiery dust, shall evermore be lost ! ' '

Ill

In flowing robe of black which braided fell Unto the earth o'er subtly hidden form, In priestly robe as that of olden days Worn by the great high priest of Israel, With mitre high and black o'er hidden face A giant figure stood by the winding road On brink of precipice, on mountain side, As though to challenge any traveler Who might in weary pilgrimage ascend. Afar against the sky of summer blue. Which hung in radiant beauty o'er the earth. O'er valleys green and winding river far Where castles gleamed beside its sparkling flow. The clouds of ebon hue, as though in train, Were moving slowly to the mountain high; Increasing as they came in solemn might. Outlined against them stood in majesty On wild and rugged height the appalling form. Which seemed a stately god who would command The earth, in terror o'er its circling globe, The weird and pagan god of northmen rude And bold, the Woden, god of those who mock The God of Love was standing in the way.

About his face and tall heroic form

So close the dread and priestly mantle fell

In fold of blackest hue, so solemnly

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He stood in bold relief and rugged might

Against the clouds that rolled across the sky

In silhouette, that to a heedless one,

A pilgrim of the earth ascending slow

The steep and narrow path, his grandeur bold,

His giant form and solemn prominence,

His all compelling air of majesty

Would deep and prostrate reverence impel,

Would fill the worshipper with mortal fear

Of that Great King who rules the universe;

But not so swift the wise before his form

Would fall, adoring god, for gazing close

Upon his weird appalling might, no ray

Of light would gleam from his descending robe;

No loving face would shine, as in a dream

The Lord of Heaven smiles upon His own.

Assurance giving sweet, that all is well.

When fleeting life is o'er His face will shine

With love on them in mansions glowing bright.

Instead, but darkly seen, a cunning hand Clutched secretly the robe in sombre fold As though it illy fit. From covered face Shone forth an eye, transfixing with its ray. As serpent charmeth unsuspecting one Who tarries in the way its form to view. Destroying with its spell the human heart. Enveloping the soul in black despair, And swiftly drawing it, ensnared, at length With frightful cry o'er dread and slippery brink Of yawning precipice, to fall In screaming pain down to an endless death In fiery depths below, to pit of Hell.

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So, quite invisible to mortal eye Of him who heedless goes the way of life, But not to mortal heart attuned to love, As ravenous wolf in sacred robe of lamb, In black hypocrisy and burning hate, Stood Baalzebub beside the way attired As pagan god, and waiting for his prey.

The sound of horn upon the mountain air

Was heard afar, as though to challenge earth

In battle for the right, engage in war,

In might of armored man to overcome,

To struggle and to win, or in defeat

To bravely stand and die a soldier's death;

And o'er the crest of mountain's higher path

A nobleman arrayed in armor dark

As cloud of night, on helmet crest a plume

Of blackest waving hue, in majesty

Of scornful youth, of deep unchanging gloom.

On dark Arabian steed, in solemn pride

Descending rode. Another youthful knight

In softer raiment clad, upon whose shield

Of deepest olive green a golden cross

Was seen to gleam within the early sun.

Accompanied the first before his train.

No sign of holy cross was on the shield

Of him in sable hue, no emblem bright

The dangerous spell of evil one to stay

From throbbing heart or lips of scarlet hue,

From soul to ward the instrument of death ;

No sign to show him faithful to his God.

In confidence that he could never fall Beneath the hand of ill, but in his own

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Conceited might could conquer every foe And drive in trembling fear opponents dark Upon a vanquished field unto the death, The lord of Oelmar came from kingdoms far Within the East, with long and vassal train Of armored soldiers, riches plenteous. In mighty pomp returning from the war. By sombre path which led o'er moiintain high, Through forest dread, and green familiar plain Below, to distant Oelmar dark which lay In gloom beside a winding river deep. He spoke no word to him who silent rode In gTeen array to cheer his frowning gloom, For deep within his mind a hidden storm Of doubt and fear and growing unbelief In tempest broke, a dark and raging sea. Engulfing in its woe a tortured heart. As waves of ocean roll in terror high Above the sail of struggling ship, which caught Within its seething flood is shattered down.

Unconsciously to him who hurried down The narrow, steep, and demon haunted way, Baalzebub stepped forth, revealing arm As hideous, black as stormy sky of night; His evil face in dread malignity Shone darkly forth, and on his wrinkled brow Was writ the frightful sign of those who drag The soul to death, to endless pit of Hell. Advancing at a turn on mountain side, In narrow way above the precipice In gloom below, the dark Arabian steed Sprang swiftly in his terror back, then leaped

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To the very brink of j^awning chasm wide And deep, in Avild and frantic fear, and stood As though transfixed by some inhuman spell. His quivering nostrils wide and flecked with foam Displayed his dark enthralling fear; his feet Refused to move from station dangerous, Although his master gently coaxed and strove With foreign words his terror to abate.

At length the angTy knight dismounted slow, And his descending train of followers With difficulty stood and gazed in fear Upon the scene, for steep the imminence Of mountain rose above, and sheer below The black and j-awning pit of terror lay, A pathway leaving on the winding ledge So narrow one could scarcely ride upon it. About the turn and down the broadening path In caution gazed the knight; observed no cause For fear of quivering steed. He did not feel The arm invisible and black which wrapped Its circling fold about his armor's might. He did not see the cloud of demon robe Which fell invisible about his form. Which caught within its deep and circling net The mind, the throbbing heart, the very soul. His faithful steed gave warning, hopeless shriek, Then darted down the mountain path to him. And stood again as though in warning wild Portrayed with terror in his beauteous eyes.

With curses loud the knight remounted then His trembling steed, and rode with cruel spur

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Against his sable side, as though possessed,

In storm of wild and reckless energy;

And speeding swiftly down the dangerous path

His form was lost to view by those who stood

And gazed astonished on the empty scene.

They hurried on, to find their master dead

Perchance, within the rough and stony way.

Or lying far below in canyon deep.

His body lifeless, of the soul bereft.

Meanwhile, as wildly on he dashed, his head

By dread incessant doubt and pain was bent;

At every step on dangerous, rocky way

It seemed his horse would plunge to death beneath;

His heart was like a weight of lead, his soul

At every desperate leap with raging thought

Of fear was filled, by death and murder rent.

The demon had his will; Baalzebub

Had won the noblest heart in Oelmar's realm.

His was the battle now that soul to keep

With angels of the light, whose cause it is

To strive the noble heart of man to turn

From evil way and bring its worship to

The halls of peace and love and purity.