III

LUCIFER. I cannot thus delude him to perdition! But one temptation still remains untried, The trial of his pride, The thirst of power, the fever of ambition! Surely by these a humble peasant's son At last may be undone!

Above the yawning chasms and deep abysses, Across the headlong torrents, I have brought Thy footsteps, swift as thought; And from the highest of these precipices, The Kingdoms of the world thine eyes behold. Like a great map unrolled.

From far-off Lebanon, with cedars crested, To where the waters of the Asphalt Lake On its white pebbles break, And the vast desert, silent, sand-invested, These kingdoms all are mine, and thine shall be, If thou wilt worship me!

CHRISTUS. Get thee behind me, Satan! thou shalt worship The Lord thy God; Him only shalt thou serve!

ANGELS MINISTRANT. The sun goes down; the evening shadows lengthen, The fever and the struggle of the day Abate and pass away; Thine Angels Miniatrant, we come to strengthen And comfort thee, and crown thee with the palm, The silence and the calm.