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Justice and Truth their winged
child have found.-

Awake! arise! until the mighty

Of your career shall scatter in its gust The thrones of the oppressor, and the ground

Hide the last altar's unregarded dust, Whose Idol has so long betrayed your impious trust!


It must be so I will arise and waken

The multitude, and, like a sulphurous hill

Which on a sudden from its snows has shaken

The swoon of ages, it shall burst, and fill

The world with cleansing fire; it must, it will

It may not be restrained!--and who shall stand

Amid the rocking earthquake steadfast still,

But Laon? on high Freedom's desert land

A tower whose marble walls the leaguèd storms withstand !


It shall be thus no more! too long, too long,

Among mankind, or when gone far

Sons of the glorious dead, have
ye lain bound

To the lone shores and mountains,
'twas a guest

In darkness and in ruin!-Hope is Which followed where I fled, and watched when I did rest.



One summer night, in commune with the hope

Thus deeply fed, amid those ruins gray

I watched, beneath the dark sky's starry cope;

And ever, from that hour, upon me lay

The burden of this hope, and night or day,

In vision or in dream, clove to my breast:

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Beyond this child: so, when sad Which walks, when tempest sleeps, the
hours were come,
wave of life's dark stream.

And baffled hope like ice still clung

to me,

Since kin were cold, and friends had now become Heartless and false, I turned from all to be,

Cythna, the only source of tears and smiles to thee.

world's tyrant rage

A patient warfare thy young heart
did wage,

When those soft eyes of scarcely con-
scious thought

Some tale or thine own fancies
would engage

To overflow with tears, or converse

With passion o'er their depths its fleeting light had wrought.


She moved upon this earth a shape of brightness,


What wert thou then? A child most infantine,

Yet wandering far beyond that innocent age

In all but its sweet looks and mien divine :


Even then, methought, with the Though by a bitter wound my trusting

heart was cleft.

Which wanders through the waste
air's pathless blue

To nourish some far desert; she did


As mine own shadow was this child to me,

A second self, far dearer and more fair,


Beside me, gathering beauty as she grew, Like the bright shade of some immortal dream

Which clothed in undissolving radiancy All those steep paths which languor and despair

Of human things had made so dark
and bare,

But which I trod alone-nor, till bereft
Of friends, and overcome by lonely


Knew I what solace for that loss was

Beyond the aërial mountains whose
vast cells

A power that from its objects
scarcely drew

The unreposing billows ever beat, Through forests wide and old, and lawny dells

One impulse of her being-in her Where boughs of incense droop over the emerald wells.


Most like some radiant cloud of

morning dew


Once she was dear, now she was all
I had

To love in human life-this play.
mate sweet,

This child of twelve years old-so she was made

My sole associate, and her willing feet

Wandered with mine where earth and ocean meet,


And warm and light I felt her clasping hand

When twined in mine: she followed where I went,

Through the lone paths of our immortal land.

It had no waste but some memorial


Which strung me to my toil-some To the enchanted waves that child of glory sung


Vital with mind: then Cythna by my


Until the bright and beaming day were spent,

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