The sceptred wretch then from that solitude I drew, and of his change compassionate, With words of sadness soothed his rugged mood. But he, while pride and fear held deep debate, With sullen guile of ill-dissembled hate
Glared on me as a toothless snake might glare: Pity, not scorn, I felt, though desolate
The desolator now, and unaware
Slowly the silence of the multitudes Past, as when far is heard in some lone dell The gathering of a wind among the woods- And he is fallen! they cry; he who did dwell Like famine or the plague, or aught more fell, Among our homes, is fallen! the murderer Who slaked his thirsting soul as from a well Of blood and tears with ruin! He is here!
The curses which he mocked had caught him by Sunk in a gulf of scorn from which none may him the hair.
I led him forth from that which now might seem A gorgeous grave: through portals sculptured deep With imagery beautiful as dream
We went, and left the shades which tend on sleep Over its unregarded gold to keep
Their silent watch.-The child trod faintingly, And, as she went, the tears which she did weep Glanced in the star-light; wildered seemed she, And when I spake, for sobs she could not answer
At last the tyrant cried, " She hungers, slave! Stab her, or give her bread!"—It was a tone Such as sick fancies in a new-made grave Might hear. I trembled, for the truth was known, He with this child had thus been left alone, And neither had gone forth for food, but he In mingled pride and awe cowered near his throne, And she, a nursling of captivity, Knew nought beyond those walls, nor what such change might be.
And he was troubled at a charm withdrawn Thus suddenly; that sceptres ruled no more- That even from gold the dreadful strength was gone Which once made all things subject to its power- Such wonder seized him, as if hour by hour The past had come again; and the swift fall Of one so great and terrible of yore
To desolateness, in the hearts of all
Then was heard-He who judged let him be brought To judgment! Blood for blood cries from the soil On which his crimes have deep pollution wrought! Shall Othman only unavenged despoil? Shall they, who by the stress of grinding toil Wrest from the unwilling earth his luxuries, Perish for crime, while his foul blood may boil, Or creep within his veins at will?-Arise! And to high justice make her chosen sacrifice.
"What do ye seek? what fear ye?" then I cried, Suddenly starting forth, " that ye should shed The blood of Othman-if your hearts are tried In the true love of freedom, cease to dread This one poor lonely man-beneath Heaven shed In purest light above us all, through earth, Maternal earth, who doth her sweet smiles spread For all, let him go free; until the worth Of human nature win from these a second birth.
"What call ye justice? Is there one who ne'er In secret thought has wished another's ill?— Are ye all pure? Let those stand forth who hear, And tremble not. Shall they insult and kill, If such they be? their mild eyes can they fill With the false anger of the hypocrite? Alas, such were not pure-the chastened will Of virtue sees that justice is the light
Like wonder stirred, who saw such awful change Of love, and not revenge, and terror and despite." befal.
"Calm art thou as yon sunset! swift and strong As new-fledged Eagles, beautiful and young, That float among the blinding beams of morning; And underneath thy feet writhe Faith, and Folly, Custom, and Hell, and mortal Melancholy- Hark! the Earth starts to hear the mighty warning Of thy voice sublime and holy; Its free spirits here assembled, See thee, feel thee, know thee now: To thy voice their hearts have trembled, Like ten thousand clouds which flow With one wide wind as it flies! Wisdom! thy irresistible children rise To hail thee, and the elements they chain And their own will to swell the glory of thy train.
"O Spirit vast and deep as Night and Heaven! Mother and soul of all to which is given The light of life, the loveliness of being, Lo! thou dost re-ascend the human heart, Thy throne of power, almighty as thou wert, In dreams of Poets old grown pale by seeing The shade of thee:-now, millions start To feel thy lightnings through them burning: Nature, or God, or Love, or Pleasure, Or Sympathy, the sad tears turning To mutual smiles, a drainless treasure, Descends amidst us;-Scorn and Hate, Revenge and Selfishness, are desolate- A hundred nations swear that there shall be Pity and Peace and Love, among the good and free!
"Eldest of things, divine Equality! Wisdom and Love are but the slaves of thee, The Angels of thy sway, who pour around thee Treasures from all the cells of human thought, And from the Stars, and from the Ocean brought, And the last living heart whose beatings bound thee: The powerful and the wise had sought Thy coming; thou in light descending O'er the wide land which is thine own, Like the spring whose breath is blending All blasts of fragrance into one, Comest upon the paths of men! Earth bares her general bosom to thy ken, And all her children here in glory meet To feed upon thy smiles, and clasp thy sacred feet.
"My brethren, we are free! the plains and mountains,
The grey sea-shore, the forests, and the fountains, Are haunts of happiest dwellers; man and woman, Their common bondage burst, may freely borrow From lawless love a solace for their sorrow! For oft we still must weep, since we are human. A stormy night's serenest morrow, Whose showers are pity's gentle tears, Whose clouds are smiles of those that die Like infants, without hopes or fears,
And whose beams are joys that lie.
The dawn of mind, which, upwards on a pinion In blended hearts, now holds dominion; Borne, swift as sun-rise, far illumines space, And clasps this barren world in its own bright embrace!
"My brethren, we are free! the fruits are glowing Beneath the stars, and the night-winds are flowing O'er the ripe corn, the birds and beasts are dream- Never again may blood of bird or beast [ing- Stain with its venomous stream a human feast, To the pure skies in accusation steaming; Avenging poisons shall have ceased
To feed disease and fear and madness, The dwellers of the earth and air Shall throng around our steps in gladness, Seeking their food or refuge there.
Our toil from thought all glorious forms shall cull, To make this earth, our home, more beautiful, And Science, and her sister Poesy,
Shall clothe in light the fields and cities of the free!
"Victory, Victory to the prostrate nations! Bear witness, Night, and ye, mute Constellations, Who gaze on us from your crystalline cars! Thoughts have gone forth whose powers can sleep no Victory! Victory! Earth's remotest shore, [more! Regions which groan beneath the Antarctic stars, The green lands cradled in the roar
Of western waves, and wildernesses Peopled and vast, which skirt the oceans Where morning dyes her golden tresses, Shall soon partake our high emotions: Kings shall turn pale! Almighty Fear, The Fiend-God, when our charmed name he hear, Shall fade like shadow from his thousand fanes, While Truth with Joy enthroned o'er his lost empire reigns! "
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