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In marble immortality, that hill
Its wrinkled image lies, as then it lay,
It trembles, but it cannot pass away.
With an earth-awakening blast
Through the caverns of the past;
Which soars where expectation never flew,
One ocean feeds the clouds and streams and dew; One sun illumines heaven; one Spirit vast
With life and love makes chaos ever new ;As Athens doth the world with thy delight renew.
VII. “Then Rome was, and from thy deep bosom fairest,
Like a wolf-cub from a Cadmæan Mænad,
From that elysian food was yet unweaned ;
By thy sweet love was sanctified ;
And in thy smile and by thy side
And gold profaned thy capitolian throne,
The senate of the tyrants: they sunk prone,
Faint echoes of Ionian song; that tone
Or piny promontory of the Arctic main,
Didst thou lament the ruin of thy reign,
And every Naiad's ice-cold urn,
To talk in echoes sad and stern Of that sublimest lore which man had dared unlearn ? ' For neither didst thou watch the wizard flocks
Of the Scald's dreams, nor haunt the Druid's sleep. What if the tears rained through thy shattered locks
Were quickly dried ? for thou didst groan, not weep, When from its sea of death, to kill and burn,
The Galilean serpent forth did creep,
IX. “A thousand years the Earth cried “Where art thou?'
And then the shadow of thy coming fell
And many a warrior-peopled citadel,
Arose in sacred Italy,
Frowning o'er the tempestuous sea Of kings and priests and slaves, in tower-crowned majesty. That multitudinous anarchy did sweep
And burst around their walls like idle foam, Whilst from the human spirit's deepest deep
Strange melody with love and awe struck dumb Dissonant arms; and Art, which cannot die,
With divine wand traced on our earthly home Fit imagery to pave heaven's everlasting dome.
“Thou Huntress swifter than the Moon ! thou terror
Of the world's wolves ! thou bearer of the quiver Whose sunlike shafts pierce tempest-winged Error,
As light may pierce the clouds when they dissever In the calm regions of the orient day!
Luther caught thy wakening glance :
Like lightning from his leaden lance Reflected, it dissolved the visions of the trance In which, as in a tomb, the nations lay;
And England's prophets hailed thee as their queen, In songs whose music cannot pass away
Though it must flow for ever. Not unseen, Before the spirit-sighted countenance
Of Milton, didst thou pass from the sad scene Beyond whose night he saw, with a dejected mien.
XI. “The eager Hours and unreluctant Years
As on a dawn-illumined mountain stood, Trampling to silence their loud hopes and fears,
Darkening each other with their multitude, And cried aloud “Liberty!” Indignation
Answered Pity from her cave;
Death grew pale within the grave,
Of its own glorious light, thou didst arise,
Like shadows: as if day had cloven the skies At dreaming midnight o'er the western wave,
Men started, staggering with a glad surprise, Under the lightnings of thine unfamiliar eyes.
“Thou heaven of earth! what spells could pall thee then
In ominous eclipse? A thousand years Bred from the slime of deep Oppression's den
Dyed all thy liquid light with blood and tears, Till thy sweet stars could weep the stain away.
How, like Bacchanals of blood,
Round France, the ghastly vintage, stood Destruction's sceptred slaves, and Folly's mitred brood ! When one, like them, but mightier far than they,
The Anarch of thine own bewildered powers, Rose : armies mingled in obscure array,
Like clouds with clouds darkening the sacred bowers Of serene heaven. He, by the past pursued,
Rests with those dead but unforgotten hours Whose ghosts scare victor kings in their ancestral towers.
XIII. “England yet sleeps : was she not called of old ?
Spain calls her now,-as with its thrilling thunder Vesuvius wakens Ætna, and the cold
Snow-crags by its reply are cloven in sunder: O'er the lit waves every Æolian isle,
From Pithecusa to Pelorus
Howls and leaps and glares in chorus: They cry, ‘Be dim, ye lamps of heaven suspended o'er us!'
Her chains are threads of gold, -she need but smile,
And they dissolve; but Spain's were links of steel, Till bit to dust by virtue's keenest file.
Twins of a single destiny ! appeal
In the dim West ! Impress us from a seal,
xiv. “Tomb of Arminius! render up thy dead,
Till, like a standard from a watch-tower's staff,
Thy victory shall be his epitaph !
His dead spirit lives in thee !
And glorious world! thou flowery wilderness !
Where Desolation, clothed with loveliness,
Gather thy blood into thy heart; repress
Of King' into the dust ; or write it there, So that this blot upon the page of fame
Were as a serpent's path which the light air Erases, and the flat sands close behind !
Ye the oracle have heard :
Lift the victory-flashing sword,
Into a mass irrefragably firm
The sound has poison in it; 'tis the sperm
Disdain not Thou, at thine appointed term,
XVI. “Oh that the wise from their bright minds would k
Such lamps within the dome of this dim world
That the pale name of Priest might shrink and dwindle
Into the hell from which it first was hurled,
Till human thoughts might kneel alone,
Each before the judgment-throne
From which they spring, as clouds of glimmering dew
Were stripped of their thin masks and various hue,
Till in the nakedness of false and true
Can be between the cradle and the grave
If on his own high will, a willing slave,
What if earth can clothe and feed
Amplest millions at their need,
Diving on fiery wings to Nature's throne,
And cries, 'Give me, thy child, dominion
New wants, and Wealth, from those who toil and groan, Rend, of thy gifts and hers, a thousandfold for one?
XVIII. "Come Thou! But lead out of the inmost cave
Of man's deep spirit-as the morning star Beckons the Sun from the Eoan wave
Wisdom. I hear the pennons of her car, Self-moving, like cloud charioted by flame!
Comes she not? And come ye not,
Rulers of eternal thought,
Of what has been, the Hope of what will be ?