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With music and with light, their fountains flowed

In poesy; and her still and earnest face,

Pallid with feelings which intensely glowed

Within, was turned on mine with speechless grace,

Watching the hopes which there her heart had learned to trace.

XXXII

In me communion with this purest being

Kindled intenser zeal, and made me wise

In knowledge, which in hers mine own mind seeing

Left in the human world few

mysteries:

How without fear of evil or disguise Was Cythna!-what a spirit strong and mild,

Which death or pain or peril could despise,

Yet melt in tenderness! what genius wild

Yet mighty was enclosed within one simple child!

XXXIII

New lore was this- old age, with its gray hair,

And wrinkled legends of unworthy things,

And icy sneers, is nought it cannot dare

To burst the chains which life for ever flings

On the entangled soul's aspiring wings,

So is it cold and cruel, and is made The careless slave of that dark power which brings

Evil, like blight, on man, who, still betrayed, Laughs o'er the grave in which his living hopes are laid.

XXXIV

Nor are the strong and the severe to keep

The empire of the world: thus
Cythna taught

Even in the visions of her eloquent

sleep,

Unconscious of the power through which she wrought

The woof of such intelligible thought,

As from the tranquil strength which cradled lay

In her smile-peopled rest, my spirit sought

Why the deceiver and the slave has sway

O'er heralds so divine of truth's arising

day.

XXXV

Within that fairest form the female mind,

Untainted by the poison-clouds which rest

On the dark world, a sacred home did find:

But else from the wide earth's maternal breast

Victorious Evil, which had dispos

sest

All native power, had those fair children torn,

And made them slaves to soothe his vile unrest,

And minister to lust its joys forlorn, Till they had learned to breathe the atmosphere of scorn.

XXXVI

This misery was but coldly felt till she Became my only friend, who had endued

My purpose with a wider sympathy; Thus Cythna mourned with me the servitude

In which the half of humankind were mewed,

Victims of lust and hate, the slaves of slaves,

She mourned that grace and power were thrown as food

To the hyæna lust, who among graves Over his loathed meal, laughing in agony, raves.

XXXVII

And I, still gazing on that glorious child,

Even as these thoughts flushed o'er her:-"Cythna sweet,

Well with the world art thou unreconciled;

Never will peace and human nature

meet

Till free and equal man and woman greet Domestic peace; and, ere this power

can make

In human hearts its calm and holy seat,

This slavery must be broken -as I spake,

From Cythna's eyes a light of exultation brake.

XXXVIII

She replied earnestly:-"It shall be mine,

This task, mine, Laon!- -thou hast much to gain;

Nor wilt thou at poor Cythna's pride

To meet thee over the rejoicing plain,

When myriads at thy call shall throng around

The Golden City." Then the child did strain

My arm upon her tremulous heart, and wound

XXXIX

I smiled, and spake not.-"Wherefore dost thou smile

Her own about my neck, till some reply she found.

At what I say? Laon, I am not weak,

And, though my cheek might become pale the while,

With thee, if thou desirest, will I seek,

Through their array of banded slaves, to wreak

Ruin upon the tyrants. I had thought It was more hard to turn my un-practised cheek

To scorn and shame, and this beloved spot

And thee, O dearest friend, to leave and murmur not.

XL

"Whence came I what I am? Thou, Laon, knowest

How a young child should thus undaunted be;

repine,

If she should lead a happy female As I have learnt from them, like me would fear no more.

train

Methinks it is a power which thou bestowest,

Through which I seek, by most resembling thee,

So to become most good and great and free;

Yet, far beyond this Ocean's utmost

roar,

In towers and huts are many like

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And we prolonged calm talk
beneath the sphere,

Of the calm moon-when suddenly
was blended

incomplete

And stifled shrieks, and now,
more near and near,

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With armèd men, whose glittering swords were bare,

With our repose a nameless sense And whose degraded limbs the tyrant's of fear;

garb did wear.

And from the cave behind I

seemed to hear

Sounds gathering upwards !-accents

VII

And, ere with rapid lips and gathered brow

I could demand the cause, a feeble shriek

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