I curse thee though I hate thee notO slave ! If thou couldst quench the earth-consuming Hell Near thy sweet mother's anxious heart, 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 river, FRAGMENT: TO ONE FREED FOR me, my friend, if not that tears did 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 Which on the chains must prey that The things which are immortal, and FRAGMENT: LOVE IMMORTAL WEALTH and dominion fade into the mass HONEY from silkworms who can gather, Of the great sea of human right and The grass may grow in winter weather wrong, As soon as hate in me. |