When she casts off the clay that clogs her wings,
E'en there ye are forestalled, for man will need
No curse, to make his second life a hell,
If be retains the memory of his first.
Had the clear waters of this gurgling brook,
The pow'r to wash time's blots from th' mind's page,
And all earth's mountains were compact of gold,
Her rivers nectar, and her oceans wine,
Her hills all fruitful, and her valleys fresh,
And full of loveliness as Eden was,
Ere sin's sad blight fell on its living bow'rs,
And all were mine, I'd give them but to lay
My weary limbs along this streamlet's bed,
And sleep in full forgetfulness awhile.
But, I forget my task--now let me to it!

[He takes a vial from his bosom, and flings its contents into the
air, chanting,

Spirit
Wherever be thy home,
In earth or air,
My message hear,
And fear it.
By the power which I have earned,
To which thy knee has knelt,
By the spell which I have learned,
A spell which thou, hast felt,
I bid thee hither come !