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Which paves the desert streets of Venice laughs
In light and music; widowed Genoa
By moonlight spells ancestral epitaphs,
Within whose veins long ran
To bruise his head. The signal and the seal
(If Hope and Truth and Justice can avail)
Art Thou of all these hopes. -O hail!
Florence! beneath the sun,
Blushes within her bower for Freedom's
From eyes of quenchless hope
As ruling once by power, so now by
As athlete stript to run
As then Hope, Truth, and Justice did
So now may Fraud and Wrong! O hail!
EPODE II β
Great Spirit, deepest Love!
For the high prize lost on Philippi's All things which live and are, within the
Bursting their inaccessible abodes
Dissonant threats kill Silence far away,
The serene Heaven which wraps our
1 The viper was the armorial device of the Visconti, tyrants of Milan.
With iron light is dyed,
The Anarchs of the North lead forth their legions
Like Chaos o'er creation, uncreating; An hundred tribes nourished on strange religions
And lawless slaveries,-down the aërial regions
Of the white Alps, desolating, Famished wolves that bide no waiting,
Blotting the glowing footsteps of old
Trampling our columned cities into dust,
On Beauty's corse to sickness sati-
They come! The fields they tread look black and hoary
With fire-from their red feet the streams run gory!
Who spreadest heaven around it, Whose woods, rocks, waves, surround it;
EPODE I B
Hear ye the march as of the Earth-born
Arrayed against the ever-living Gods?
From the Earth's bosom chill;
The crash and darkness of a thousand O bid those beams be each a blinding
Who sittest in thy star, o'er Ocean's western floor,
Spirit of beauty! at whose soft command The sunbeams and the showers distil its foison
Of lightning bid those showers be
Bid the Earth's plenty kill!
THE warm sun is failing, the bleak wind is wailing,
The bare boughs are sighing, the pale flowers are dying,
And the year
On the earth her deathbed, in a shroud
Come, months, come away,
Of the dead cold year,
And like dim shadows watch by her DEATH is here and death is there,
Death is busy everywhere,
The chill rain is falling, the nipt worm Above is death-and we are death. is crawling,
The rivers are swelling, the thunder is
For the year;
Death has set his mark and seal
To his dwelling;
First our pleasures die-and then
These are dead, the debt is due,
All things that we love and cherish,
THE fiery mountains answer each other;
zone to zone;
The tempestuous oceans awake one
And the ice-rocks are shaken round
When the clarion of the Typhoon
But keener thy gaze than the lightning's glare,
And swifter thy step than the earthquake's tramp;
Thou deafenest the rage of the ocean; thy stare
Makes blind the volcanoes; the sun's bright lamp
To thine is a fen-fire damp.
From city to hamlet thy dawning is cast,
And tyrants and slaves are like shadows of night
In the van of the morning light.
From billow and mountain and exhala
SUMMER AND WINTER
It was a bright and cheerful afternoon,
When the north wind congregates in
The floating mountains of the silver clouds
From the horizon-and the stainless sky
The willow leaves that glanced in the From a single cloud the lightning flashes, And the firm foliage of the larger trees. light breeze,
Whilst a thousand isles are illumined
The river, and the corn-fields, and the reeds;
It was a winter such as when birds die
Earthquake is trampling one city to ashes,
Is bellowing underground.
Even the mud and slime of the warm lakes
A wrinkled clod as hard as brick; and when,
Among their children, comfortable men Gather about great fires, and yet feel cold:
Alas then for the homeless beggar old!
THE TOWER OF FAMINE
Of an extinguished people; so that pity
The sunlight is darted through vapour and blast;
Weeps o'er the shipwrecks of oblivion's
From spirit to spirit, from nation to There stands the Tower of Famine. It is built
Upon some prison homes, whose dwellers
For bread, and gold, and blood: pain,
Agitates the light flame of their hours,
There stands the pile, a tower amid the
Of solitary wealth; the tempest-proof
And sacred domes; each marble-ribbed
The brazen -gated temples, and the And they learn little there, except to
And are withdrawn-so that the world
As if a spectre wrapt in shapeless terror
Should glide and glow, till it became a
Of all their beauty, and their hair and
error, Should be absorbed, till they to marble grew.
And many pass it by with careless tread,
Not knowing that a shadowy .. Tracks every traveller even to where the dead
A PORTAL as of shadowy adamant
Wait peacefully for their companion
But others, by more curious humour led Pause to examine,- these are very few,
That shadows follow them where'er they go.
THE WORLD'S WANDERERS
TELL me, thou star, whose wings of
Speed thee in thy fiery flight,
Will thy pinions close now?
Tell me, moon, thou pale and gray
Weary wind, who wanderest
Which we all tread, a cavern huge and YE hasten to the grave! What seek ye gaunt; there,
Around it rages an unceasing strife Of shadows, like the restless clouds that
Ye restless thoughts and busy purposes Of the idle brain, which the world's livery wear?
The gap of some cleft mountain, lifted Oh thou quick heart which pantest to
Into the whirlwinds of the upper sky.
All that pale expectation feigneth fair!