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By the false cant which on their inno- Yes, the despair which bids a father

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I curse thee though I hate thee notO slave !

If thou couldst quench the earth-consuming Hell

Near thy sweet mother's anxious heart,
Which thou with joy shalt fill,
With fairest smiles of wonder thrown
On that which is indeed our own,
And which in distant lands will be
The dearest playmate unto thee.

IV

Fear not the tyrants will rule for ever, Or the priests of the evil faith;

Of which thou art a dæmon, on thy They stand on the brink of that raging

grave

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river,

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FRAGMENT: TO ONE FREED
FROM PRISON

FOR me, my friend, if not that tears did
tremble

In my faint eyes, and that my heart beat fast

With feelings which make rapture pain resemble,

Yet, from thy voice that falsehood starts aghast,

I thank thee-let the tyrant keep

Dark is the realm of grief: but human His chains and tears, yea let him weep

things

With rage to see thee freshly risen,

Like strength from slumber, from the When once from our possession they

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Which on the chains must prey that The things which are immortal, and

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FRAGMENT: LOVE IMMORTAL

WEALTH and dominion fade into the

mass

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HONEY from silkworms who can gather,
Or silk from the yellow bee?

Of the great sea of human right and The grass may grow in winter weather

wrong,

As soon as hate in me.

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