The apparition of both angels which follows the invocation
is, as always, a shining vision of light.
Aholibama:
The clouds from off their pinions flinging
As though they bore to-morrow's light.
Anah:
But if our father see the sight!
Aholibama:
He would but deem it was the moon
Rising unto some sorcerer's tune
An hour too soon.
Anah:
Lo! They have kindled all the west,
Like a returning sunset. . . .
On Ararat's late secret crest
A wild and many colored bow,
The remnant of their flashing path,
Now shines!. . .
At the sight of this many-colored vision of light, where both women are entirely filled with desire and expectation, Anah makes use of a simile full of presentiment, which suddenly allows us to look down once more into the dismal dark depths, out of which for a moment the terrible animal nature of the mild god of light emerges.
". . . and now, behold! it hath
Returned to night, as rippling foam,
Which the leviathan hath lashed
From his unfathomable home,
When sporting on the face of the calm deep,
Subsides soon after he again hath dash'd
Down, down to where the ocean's fountains sleep."