XI.

And what art thou? I know, but dare not speak :
Time may interpret to his silent years.
Yet in the paleness of thy thoughtful cheek,
And in the light thine ample forehead wears,
And in thy sweetest smiles, and in thy tears,
And in thy gentle speech, a prophecy

Is whispered, to subdue my fondest fears:
And, through thine eyes, even in thy soul I see
A lamp of vestal fire burning internally.

XII.

They say that thou wert lovely from thy birth,
Of glorious parents thou aspiring child.
I wonder not-for One then left this earth
Whose life was like a setting planet mild,
Which clothed thee in the radiance undefiled
Of its departing glory; still her fame

Shines on thee, through the tempests dark and wild Which shake these latter days; and thou canst claim The shelter, from thy sire, of an immortal name.

XIII.

One voice came forth from many a mighty spirit,
Which was the echo of three thousand years;
And the tumultuous world stood mute to hear it,
As some lone man who in a desert hears

The music of his home :--unwonted fears

Fell on the pale oppressors of our race,

And Faith and Custom and low-thoughted cares, Like thunder-stricken dragons, for a space

Left the torn human heart, their food and dwelling-place.

XIV.

Truth's deathless voice pauses among mankind! If there must be no response to my cry— If men must rise and stamp, with fury blind, On his pure name who loves them,-thou and I, Sweet friend, can look from our tranquillity Like lamps into the world's tempestuous night,— Two tranquil stars, while clouds are passing by Which wrap them from the foundering seaman's sight, That burn from year to year with unextinguished light.

CANTO I.

I.

WHEN the last hope of trampled France had failed

Like a brief dream of unremaining glory,

From visions of despair I rose, and scaled

The peak of an aërial promontory,

Whose caverned base with the vexed surge was hoary; And saw the golden dawn break forth, and waken Each cloud and every wave :-but transitory The calm for sudden the firm earth was shaken, As if by the last wreck its frame were overtaken.

II.

So, as I stood, one blast of muttering thunder
Burst in far peals along the waveless deep,
When, gathering fast, around, above, and under,
Long trains of tremulous mist began to creep,
Until their complicating lines did steep

The orient sun in shadow :-not a sound

Was heard; one horrible repose did keep

The forests and the floods, and all around

Darkness more dread than night was poured upon the ground.

III.

Hark! 'tis the rushing of a wind that sweeps

Earth and the ocean. See the lightnings yawn
Deluging heaven with fire, and the lashed deeps
Glitter and boil beneath! It rages on,

One mighty stream, whirlwind and waves upthrown,
Lightning, and hail, and darkness eddying by!
There is a pause--the sea-birds, that were gone
Into their caves to shriek, come forth to spy
What calm has fallen on earth, what light is in the sky.

IV.

For, where the irresistible storm had cloven

That fearful darkness, the blue sky was seen
Fretted with many a fair cloud interwoven
Most delicately; and the ocean green,
Beneath that opening spot of blue serene,
Quivered like burning emerald. Calm was spread
On all below; but far on high, between
Earth and the upper air, the vast clouds fled,

Countless and swift as leaves on autumn's tempest shed.

V.

For ever, as the war became more fierce

Between the whirlwinds and the rack on high,
That spot grew more serene; blue light did pierce
The woof of those white clouds, which seemed to lie
Far, deep, and motionless; while through the sky
The pallid semicircle of the moon

Passed on, in slow and moving majesty ;

Its upper horn arrayed in mists, which soon
But slowly fled, like dew beneath the beams of noon.

VI.

I could not choose but gaze; a fascination

Dwelt in that moon and sky and clouds, which drew

My fancy thither, and (in expectation

Of what, I knew not) I remained. The hue Of the white moon, amid that heaven so blue, Suddenly stained with shadow did appear;

A speck, a cloud, a shape, approaching grew, Like a great ship in the sun's sinking sphere Beheld afar at sea, and swift it came anear.

VII.

Even like a bark, which from a chasm of mountains,
Dark, vast, and overhanging, on a river

Which there collects the strength of all its fountains
Comes forth, whilst with the speed its frame doth quiver,

Sails, oars, and stream, tending to one endeavour;

So, from that chasm of light a winged form,

On all the winds of heaven approaching ever,

Floated, dilating as it came: the storm

Pursued it with fierce blasts, and lightnings swift and warm.

VIII.

A course precipitous, of dizzy speed,

Suspending thought and breath; a monstrous sight!
For in the air do I behold indeed

An Eagle and a Serpent wreathed in fight: :-
And now, relaxing its impetuous flight

Before the aërial rock on which I stood,

The Eagle, hovering, wheeled to left and right, And hung with lingering wings over the flood, And startled with its yells the wide air's solitude.

IX.

A shaft of light upon its wings descended,

And every golden feather gleamed therein— Feather and scale inextricably blended.

The Serpent's mailed and many-coloured skin

Shone through the plumes; its coils were twined within By many a swoln and knotted fold; and high

And far the neck, receding lithe and thin,

Sustained a crested head, which warily

Shifted and glanced before the Eagle's steadfast eye.

X.

Around, around, in ceaseless circles wheeling

With clang of wings and scream, the Eagle sailed Incessantly-sometimes on high concealing

Its lessening orbs, sometimes, as if it failed,

Drooped through the air; and still it shrieked and wailed, And, casting back its eager head, with beak And talon unremittingly assailed

The wreathed Serpent, who did ever seek Upon his enemy's heart a mortal wound to wreak.

XI.

What life, what power, was kindled and arose
Within the sphere of that appalling fray !
For, from the encounter of those wondrous foes,
A vapour like the sea's suspended spray
Hung gathered: in the void air, far away,
Floated the shattered plumes; bright scales did leap,
Where'er the Eagle's talons made their way,
Like sparks into the darkness;-as they sweep,
Blood stains the snowy foam of the tumultuous deep.

XII.

Swift chances in that combat-many a check,
And many a change, a dark and wild turmoil!
Sometimes the Snake around his enemy's neck
Locked in stiff rings his adamantine coil;
Until the Eagle, faint with pain and toil,
Remitted his strong flight, and near the sea
Languidly fluttered, hopeless so to foil
His adversary,-who then reared on high
His red and burning crest, radiant with victory.

XIII.

Then on the white edge of the bursting surge, Where they had sunk together, would the Snake Relax his suffocating grasp, and scourge

The wind with his wild writhings; for, to break That chain of torment, the vast bird would shake The strength of his unconquerable wings,

As in despair, and with his sinewy neck Dissolved in sudden shock those linked rings,— Then soar, as swift as smoke from a volcano springs.

XIV.

Wile baffled wile, and strength encountered strength,
Thus long, but unprevailing. The event
Of that portentous fight appeared at length.
Until the lamp of day was almost spent

It had endured; when, lifeless, stark, and rent, Hung high that mighty Serpent, and at last

Fell to the sea,-while o'er the continent,

With clang of wings and scream, the Eagle passed, Heavily borne away on the exhausted blast.

XV.

And with it fled the tempest, so that ocean

And earth and sky shone through the atmosphere. Only, 'twas strange to see the red commotion

Of waves like mountains o'er the sinking sphere Of sunset sweep, and their fierce roar to hear Amid the calm. Down the steep path I wound To the sea-shore-the evening was most clear And beautiful; and there the sea I found Calm as a cradled child in dreamless slumber bound.

XVI.

There was a woman, beautiful as morning,
Sitting beneath the rocks upon the sand
Of the waste sea-fair as one flower adorning
An icy wilderness. Each delicate hand
Lay crossed upon her bosom, and the band
Of her dark hair had fallen, and so she sate,
Looking upon the waves. On the bare strand
Upon the sea-mark a small boat did wait,
Fair as herself, like Love by Hope left desolate.