PROLOG UK. IX darkling night, m!d wind nnd tempest'* roar, A liçht in shining from a burial-ground ; Tho furious storm, ft moment, nnd no more, H ut iuenchpd it, then it flares anew—each mound Orevu-turfed it brightens which lay dim before, Ami radiates nil tho azure ether round! Thin i- the aureole of that Order old, (hue for tho Temple's guardianship enrolled. Art li ii not drawn tho curtain* hack that hide The inner mysteries ; wo do but hear The echo of the billows' distant tide ; Hut to no searching is the sen made clear. Forth drawn from ancient night the world did glide; Yet showed no working of the lever's gear!— Historians still things seen and known declare; Tho Undiscovered is tho poet's share. What I can show you is not much to tell, If only outward forms we contemplate; A group of men like many wo know well, Athirst for glory, ovor-borno by fate ; With eyes humane where pity's dewdrops swell, Xot inde|ieiidcnt heroes, worldly great ! They would not one should shine above his brother, For every one is member of tho other. Yet draws it near to full perfection's goal, This friendly calm where all self-seekiugs cease. No stone predominates o'er tho Dnilding's whole, And no blasphemer shames the old Order's peace. I