XII.

Of rushing feet? laughter? the shout, the scream, Of triumph not to be contained? See! hark! They come, they come ! give way! Alas, ye deem Falsely 'tis but a crowd of maniacs stark Driven, like a troop of spectres, through the dark From the choked well, whence a bright death-fire sprung,

A lurid earth-star, which dropped many a spark From its blue train, and spreading widely, clung To their wild hair, like mist the topmost pines among.

XIII.

And many, from the crowd collected there, Joined that strange dance in fearful sympathies; There was the silence of a long despair, When the last echo of those terrible cries Came from a distant street, like agonies Stifled afar. Before the Tyrant's throne All night his aged Senate sate, their eyes In stony expectation fixed; when one Sudden before them stood, a Stranger and alone.

XIV.

Dark Priests and haughty Warriors gazed on him With baffled wonder, for a hermit's vest Concealed his face; but when he spake, his tone, Ere yet the matter did their thoughts arrest, Earnest, benignant, calm, as from a breast Void of all hate or terror, made them start; For as with gentle accents he addressed His speech to them, on each unwilling heart Unusual awe did fall-a spirit-quelling dart.

XV.

"Ye Princes of the Earth, ye sit aghast Amid the ruin which yourselves have made; Yes, Desolation heard your trumpet's blast, And sprang from sleep!-dark Terror has obeyed Your bidding-Oh that I, whom ye have made Your foe, could set my dearest enemy free From pain and fear! but evil casts a shade Which cannot pass so soon, and Hate must be The nurse and parent still of an ill progeny.

XVI.

"Ye turn to Heaven for aid in your distress;
Alas, that ye, the mighty and the wise,
Who, if ye dared, might not aspire to less
Than ye conceive of power, should fear the lies
Which thou, and thou, didst frame for mysteries
To blind your slaves:-consider your own thought,
An empty and a cruel sacrifice

Ye now prepare, for a vain idol wrought Out of the fears and hate which vain desires have brought.

XVII.

"Ye seek for happiness-alas the day! Ye find it not in luxury nor in gold, Nor in the fame, nor in the envied sway For which, O willing slaves to Custom old, Severe task-mistress! ye your hearts have sold. Ye seek for peace, and when ye die, to dream No evil dreams; all mortal things are cold And senseless then. If aught survive, I deem It must be love and joy, for they immortal seem.

XXIV.

"Yes, in the desert then is built a home
For Freedom. Genius is made strong to rear
The monuments of man beneath the dome
Of a new heaven; myriads assemble there,
Whom the proud lords of man, in rage or fear,
Drive from their wasted homes. The boon I pray
Is this, that Cythna shall be convoyed there,—
Nay, start not at the name-America!
And then to you this night Laon will I betray.

XXV.

"With me do what ye will. I am your foe!"
The light of such a joy as makes the stare
Of hungry snakes like living emeralds glow,
Shone in a hundred human eyes.-"Where, where
Is Laon? haste! fly! drag him swiftly here!
We grant thy boon."-" I put no trust in ye,
Swear by the Power ye dread."-"We swear, we
TheStranger threw his vest back suddenly,[swear!"
And smiled in gentle pride, and said, "Lo! I am

XI.

And others, too, thought he was wise to see,
In pain, and fear, and hate, something divine;
In love and beauty-no divinity.—

Now with a bitter smile, whose light did shine
Like a fiend's hope upon his lips and eyne,
He said, and the persuasion of that sneer
Rallied his trembling comrades-" Is it mine
To stand alone, when kings and soldiers fear
A woman? Heaven has sent its other victim here."

XII.

"Were it not impious," said the King, "to break
Our holy oath ?"-" Impious to keep it, say!"
Shrieked the exulting Priest :-"Slaves, to the
Bind her, and on my head the burthen lay [stake
Of her just torments :-at the Judgment Day
Will I stand up before the golden throne
Of Heaven, and cry, to thee I did betray
An infidel! but for me she would have known
Another moment's joy !—the glory be thine own."

XIII.

They trembled, but replied not, nor obeyed, Pausing in breathless silence. Cythna sprung From her gigantic steed, who, like a shade Chased by the winds, those vacant streets among Fled tameless, as the brazen rein she flung Upon his neck, and kissed his mooned brow. A piteous sight, that one so fair and young, The clasp of such a fearful death should woo With smiles of tender joy as beamed from Cythna

now.

XIV.

The warm tears burst in spite of faith and fear, From many a tremulous eye, but, like soft dews Which feed spring's earliest buds, hung gathered there,

Frozen by doubt,-alas! they could not choose But weep; for when her faint limbs did refuse To climb the pyre, upon the mutes she smiled; And with her eloquent gestures, and the hues Of her quick lips, even as a weary child Wins sleep from some fond nurse with its caresses mild,

XV.

She won them, though unwilling, her to bind Near me, among the stakes. When then had fled One soft reproach that was most thrilling kind, She smiled on me, and nothing then we said, But each upon the other's countenance fed Looks of insatiate love; the mighty veil Which doth divide the living and the dead Was almost rent, the world grew dim and pale,All light in Heaven or Earth beside our love did fail.

XVI.

Yet,-yet-one brief relapse, like the last beam Of dying flames, the stainless air around Hung silent and serene.-A blood-red gleam Burst upwards, hurling fiercely from the ground The globed smoke.-I heard the mighty sound Of its uprise, like a tempestuous ocean; And, through its chasms I saw, as in a swound, The Tyrant's child fall without life or motion Before his throne, subdued by some unseen emotion.