VI.

What is that Power? Some moon-struck sophist stood

Watching the shade from his own soul upthrown Fill Heaven and darken Earth, and in such mood The Form he saw and worshipp'd was his own, His likeness in the world's vast mirror shown; And 't were an innocent dream, but that a faith Nursed by fear's dew of poison, grows thereon, And that men say, that Power has chosen Death On all who scorn its laws, to wreak immortal wrath. VII.

"Men say that they themselves have heard and

seen,

Or known from others who have known such things, A Shade, a Form, which Earth and Heaven between Wields an invisible rod-that Priests and Kings, Custom, domestic sway, ay, all that brings Man's free-born soul beneath the oppressor's heel, Are his strong ministers, and that the stings Of death will make the wise his vengeance feel, Though truth and virtue arm their hearts with tenfold steel.

VIII.

"And it is said, this Power will punish wrong; Yes, add despair to crime, and pain to pain! And deepest hell, and deathless snakes among, Will bind the wretch on whom is fix'd a stain, Which, like a plague, a burthen, and a bane, Clung to him while he lived;-for love and hate, Virtue and vice, they say, are difference vainThe will of strength is right-this human state Tyrants, that they may rule, with lies thus desolate.

Man seeks for gold in mines, that he may weave A lasting chain for his own slavery;

In fear and restless care that he may live He toils for others, who must ever be The joyless thralls of like captivity; He murders, for his chiefs delight in ruin; He builds the altar, that its idol's fee May be his very blood; he is pursuing O, blind and willing wretch! his own obscure undoing.

XV.

"Woman!--she is his slave, she has become A thing I weep to speak-the child of scorn, The outcast of a desolated home,

Falsehood, and fear, and toil, like waves have worn Channels upon her cheeks, which smiles adorn, As calm decks the false Ocean:-well ye know What Woman is, for none of Woman born Can choose but drain the bitter dregs of woe, Which ever from the oppress'd to the oppressors flow.

XVI.

"This need not be; ye might arise, and will That gold should lose its power, and thrones their

glory;

That love, which none may bind, be free to fill The world, like light; and evil faith, grown hoary With crime, be quench'd and die.-Yon promon

tory

Even now eclipses the descending moon!-Dungeons and palaces are transitoryHigh temples fade like vapor-Man alone Remains, whose will has power when all beside is gone.

XVII.

"Let all be free and equal!—from your hearts I feel an echo; through my inmost frame Like sweetest sound, seeking its mate, it dartsWhence come ye, friends? alas, I cannot name All that I read of sorrow, toil, and shame, On your worn faces; as in legends old Which make immortal the disastrous fame Of conquerors and impostors false and bold, The discord of your hearts, I in your looks behold

44

XXI.

Yes, it is Hate, that shapeless fiendly thing Of many names, all evil, some divine,

Whom self-contempt arms with a mortal sting; Which, when the heart its snaky folds entwine, Is wasted quite, and when it doth repine To gorge such bitter prey, on all beside It turns with ninefold rage, as with its twine When Amphisbæna some fair bird has tied, Soon o'er the putrid mass he threats on every side. XXII.

Reproach not thine own soul, but know thyself, Nor hate another's crime, nor lothe thine own. It is the dark idolatry of self,

Which, when our thoughts and actions once are

XXIV.

"Yes I must speak-my secret should have perish'd

Even with the heart it wasted, as a brand Fades in the dying flame whose life it cherish'd, But that no human bosom can withstand Thee, wondrous Lady, and the mild command Of thy keen eyes:-yes, we are wretched slaves, Who from their wonted loves and native land Are reft, and bear o'er the dividing waves The unregarded prey of calm and happy graves. XXV.

"We drag afar from pastoral vales the fairest, Among the daughters of those mountains lone, We drag them there, where all things best and

rarest

Are stain'd and trampled :-years have come and

gone

Since, like the ship which bears me, I have known No thought;-but now the eyes of one dear Maid On mine with light of mutual love have shoneShe is my life,-I am but as the shade Of her,—a smoke sent up from ashes, soon to fade. XXVI.

"For she must perish in the tyrant's hallAlas, alas!'-He ceased, and by the sail Sate cowering-but his sobs were heard by all, And still before the ocean and the gale The ship fled fast till the stars 'gan to fail, And round me gather'd with mute countenance, The Seamen gazed, the Pilot, worn and pale With toil, the Captain with gray locks, whose glance Met mine in restless awe-they stood as in a trance.

XXVII.

"Recede not! pause not now! thou art grown old. But Hope will make thee young, for Hope and

Youth

Are children of one mother, even Love-behold! The eternal stars gaze on us!-is the truth Within your soul? care for your own, or ruth For other's sufferings? do ye thirst to bear A heart which not the serpent custom's tooth May violate?-be free! and even here, Swear to be firm till death! they cried, we swear!

we swear!'

XXVIII.

"The very darkness shook, as with a blast Of subterranean thunder at the cry; The hollow shore its thousand echoes cast Into the night, as if the sea, and sky, And earth, rejoiced with new-born Liberty, For in that name they swore! Bolts were undrawn, And on the deck, with unaccustom'd eye, The captives gazing stood, and every one Shrank as the inconstant torch upon her countenance

shone.

XXIX.

"They were earth's purest children, young and far, With eyes the shrines of unawaken'd thought, And brows as bright as spring or morning, ere Dark time had there its evil legend wrought In characters of cloud which wither not.The change was like a dream to them; but soon They knew the glory of their alter'd lot, In the bright wisdom of youth's breathless noot Sweet talk, and smiles, and sighs, all bosoms did

attune.

"The joyous mariners, and each free maiden,
Now brought from the deep forest many a bough,
With woodland spoil most innocently laden;
Soon wreaths of budding foliage seem'd to flow
Over the mast and sails, the stern and prow
Were canopied with blooming boughs,-the while
On the slant sun's path o'er the waves we go

Rejoicing, like the dwellers of an isle

V.

"We reach'd the port-alas! from many spirits The wisdom which had waked that cry, was fled, Like the brief glory which dark Heaven inherits From the false dawn, which fades ere it is spread, Upon the night's devouring darkness shed: Yet soon bright day will burst-even like a chasm Of fire, to burn the shrouds outworn and dead, Which wrap the world; a wide enthusiasm, To cleanse the fever'd world as with an earthquake's spasm!

VI

"I walk'd through the great City then, but free From shame or fear; those toil-worn Mariners And happy Maidens did encompass me; And like a subterranean wind that stirs Some forest among caves, the hopes and fears From every human soul, a murmur strange Made as I past; and many wept, with tears Of joy and awe, and winged thoughts did range, And half-extinguish'd words, which prophesied of change.

VII.

"For, with strong speech I tore the veil that hid Nature, and Truth, and Liberty, and Love,As one who from some mountain's pyramid, Points to the unrisen sun!-the shades approve His truth, and flee from every stream and grove. Thus, gentle thoughts did many a bosom fill,Wisdom, the mail of tried affections wove For many a heart, and tameless scorn of ill, Thrice steep'd in molten steel the unconquerable will.

VIII.

"Some said I was a maniac wild and lost;
Some, that I scarce had risen from the grave
The Prophet's virgin bride, a heavenly ghost :-
Some said, I was a fiend from my weird cave,
Who had stolen human shape, and o'er the wave,
The forest, and the mountain came;-some said
I was the child of God, sent down to save
Women from bonds and death, and on my head

"But soon my human words found sympathy In human hearts: the purest and the best, As friend with friend, made common cause with me, And they were few, but resolute;-the rest, Ere yet success the enterprise had blest, Leagued with me in their hearts ;-their meals, their slumber,

Their hourly occupations were possest By hopes which I had arm'd to overnumber, Those hosts of meaner cares, which life's strong wings

encumber.

X.

But chiefly women, whom my voice did waken From their cold, careless, willing slavery, Sought me one truth their dreary prison has

shaken,

They look'd around, and lo! they became free! Their many tyrants sitting desolately In slave-deserted halls, could none restrain; For wrath's red fire had wither'd in the eye, Whose lightning once was death,-nor fear, nor gain Could tempt one captive now to lock another's chain.

"OSpring! of hope, and love, and youth, and gladness Wind-winged emblem! brightest, best and fairest Whence comest thou, when, with dark Winter's sadness

The tears that fade in sunny smiles thou sharest Sister of joy! thou art the child who wearest Thy mother's dying smile, tender and sweet; Thy mother Autumn, for whose grave thou bearest Fresh flowers, and beams like flowers, with gentle

feet, Disturbing not the leaves which are her winding-sheet.

"So be the turf heap'd over our remains
Even in our happy youth, and that strange lot,
Whate'er it be, when in these mingling veins
The blood is still, be ours; let sense and thought
Pass from our being, or be number'd not
Among the things that are; let those who come
Behind, for whom our stedfast will has brought
A calm inheritance, a glorious doom,

Insult, with careless tread, our undivided tomb.

XXX.

"Our many thoughts and deeds, our life and love,
Our happiness, and all that we have been,
Immortally must live, and burn and move,
When we shall be no more;-the world has seen
A type of peace; and as some most serene
And lovely spot to a poor maniac's eye,
After long years, some sweet and moving scene
Of youthful hope returning suddenly,

Quells his long madness-thus man shall remember thee.

XXXI.

And Calumny meanwhile shall feed on us, As worms devour the dead, and near the throne And at the altar, most accepted thus

Shall sneers and curses be ;-what we have done None shall dare vouch, though it be truly known; That record shall remain, when they must pass Who built their pride on its oblivion; And fame, in human hope which sculptured was, Survive the perish'd scrolls of unenduring brass.

XXXII.

"The while we two, beloved, must depart, And Sense and Reason, those enchanters fair, Whose wand of power is hope, would bid the heart That gazed beyond the wormy grave despair: These eyes, these lips, this blood, seem darkly there To fade in hideous ruin; no calm sleep, Peopling with golden dreams the stagnant air, Seems our obscure and rotting eyes to steep In joy;-but senseless death-a ruin dark and deep!

XXXIII.

"These are blind fancies-reason cannot know
What sense can neither feel, nor thought conceive;
There is delusion in the world-and woe,
And fear, and pain-we know not whence we live,
Or why, or how, or what mute Power may give
Their being to each plant, and star, and beast,
Or even these thoughts:-Come near me! I do weave
A chain I cannot break-I am possest

With thoughts too swift and strong for one lone human breast.

XXXIV.

"Yes, yes-thy kiss is sweet, thy lips are warmO! willingly beloved, would these eyes, Might they no more drink being from thy form, Even as to sleep whence we again arise, Close their faint orbs in death: I fear nor prize Aught that can now betide, unshared by theeYes, Love when wisdom fails makes Cythna wise. Darkness and death, if death be true, must be Dearer than life and hope, if unenjoy'd with thee.