And stabled in our homes,-until the chain Stifled the captive's cry, and to abide That blasting curse men had no shame--all vied In evil, slave and despot; fear with lust, Strange fellowship through mutual hate had tied, Like two dark serpents tangled in the dust, Which on the paths of men their mingling poison thrust. V. Earth, our bright home, its mountains and its waters, And the ætherial shapes which are suspended Over its green expanse, and those fair daughters, The clouds, of Sun and Ocean, who have blended The colours of the air since first extended It cradled the young world, none wandered forth To see or feel: a darkness had descended On every heart: the light which shows its worth Must among gentle thoughts and fearless take its birth. VI. This vital world, this home of happy spirits, Was as a dungeon to my blasted kind, All that despair from murdered hope inherits They sought, and, in their helpless misery blind, A deeper prison and heavier chains did find, And stronger tyrants:—a dark gulph before, The realm of a stern Ruler, yawned; behind, Terror and Time conflicting drove, and bore On their tempestuous flood the shrieking wretch from shore. VII. Out of that Ocean's wrecks had Guilt and Woe Framed a dark dwelling for their homeless thought, And, starting at the ghosts which to and fro Glide o'er its dim and gloomy strand, had brought The worship thence which they each other taught. Well might men loathe their life, well might they turn Even to the ills again from which they sought Such refuge after death!-well might they learn To gaze on this fair world with hopeless unconcern! VIII. For they all pined in bondage: body and soul, And hymns of blood or mockery, which rent The air from all its fanes, did intertwine Imposture's impious toils round each discordant shrine. IX. I heard, as all have heard, life's various story, And in no careless heart transcribed the tale; But, from the sneers of men who had grown hoary In shame and scorn, from groans of crowds made pale By famine, from a mother's desolate wail O'er her polluted child, from innocent blood Poured on the earth, and brows anxious and pale With the heart's warfare, did I gather food To feed my many thoughts-a tameless multitude! X. I wandered through the wrecks of days departed Far by the desolated shore, when even Among the clouds near the horizon driven, The mountains lay beneath one planet pale; Around me, broken tombs and columns riven Looked vast in twilight, and the sorrowing gale Waked in those ruins grey its everlasting wail! XI. I knew not who had framed these wonders then, Nor had I heard the story of their deeds; But dwellings of a race of mightier men, And monuments of less ungentle creeds, Tell their own tale to him who wisely heeds The language which they speak; and now, to me The moonlight making pale the blooming weeds, The bright stars shining in the breathless sea, Interpreted those scrolls of mortal mystery. XII. Such man has been, and such may yet become! Aye, wiser, greater, gentler, even than they Of the vast stream of ages bear away and fast Even as a storm let loose beneath the ray Of the still moon, my spirit onward passed Beneath truth's steady beams upon its tumult cast. XIII. It shall be thus no more! too long, too long, Sons of the glorious dead, have ye lain bound In darkness and in ruin.-Hope is strong, Justice and Truth their winged child have found Awake! arise! until the mighty sound Of your career shall scatter in its gust The thrones of the oppressor, and the ground Hide the last altar's unregarded dust, Whose Idol has so long betrayed your impious trust. XIV. It must be so— The swoon of ages, it shall burst and fill The world with cleansing fire: it must, it will It may not be restrained!-and who shall stand Amid the rocking earthquake steadfast still, But Laon? on high Freedom's desert land A tower whose marble walls the leaguèd storms withstand! XV. One summer night, in commune with the hope Which followed where I fled, and watched when XVI. These hopes found words through which my spirit sought To weave a bondage of such sympathy, : Through darkness wide and deep those trancèd spirits smite. |