In wandering clouds of sunny rain that Low-kneeling at the feet of Destiny

A fourth now waits: assemble, sons of Fiercest and mightiest, mingled both,

Upon the name of Freedom; from the Of Him who sends thee forth, whate'er

Of faction, which like earthquake shakes Speed, spare not to accomplish, and be

And as the Heavens and the Earth To swallow all delight, all life, all hope. Go, thou Vicegerent of my will, no

arrayed

Their presence in the beauty and the light

Of thy first smile, O Father, as they gather

The spirit of thy love which paves for

them

Their path o'er the abyss, till every
sphere

Shall be one living Spirit, so shall
Greece-

less

Than of the Father's; but lest thou shouldst faint,

The winged hounds, Famine and Pestilence,

Shall wait on thee, the hundred-forked
snake

Insatiate Superstition still shall .
The earth behind thy steps, and War
shall hover

Satan. Be as all things beneath the Above, and Fraud shall gape below, and

Mine! Art thou eyeless like old Des- Shall flit before thee on her dragon

Thou mockery-king, crowned with a Convulsing and consuming, and I add Three vials of the tears which demons

wreath of thorns?

Whose sceptre is a reed, the broken reed

Which pierces thee! whose throne a

chair of scorn;

weep

When virtuous spirits through the gate of Death

Pass triumphing over the thorns of life,

For seest thou not beneath this crystal Sceptres and crowns, mitres and swords

Which our great Father then did arbi- Then pour it forth, and men shall gather

trate

ashes.

Which he assigned to his competing The second Tyranny

sons

Each his apportioned realm?

Thou Destiny,

Christ.

Obdurate spirit! Thou seest but the Past in the To

come.

Thou who art mailed in the omnipotence | Pride is thy error and thy punishment.

Or could the morning shafts of purest light

Are more than furnace-sparks or rain-Again into the quivers of the Sun

With beams as keen as those which 'Mid the benighted nations,

Divides and multiplies the most high The thin and painted garment of the

Which led from the cathedral to the
street;

And ever as she went her light fair feet
Erased these images.

Ginevra saw her lover, and forbore
To shriek or faint, and checked the
stifling blood

Rushing upon her heart, and unsubdued The bride-maidens who round her Said-"Friend, if earthly violence or

Suspicion, doubt, or the tyrannic will Of parents, chance, or custom, time or change,

Or circumstance, or terror, or revenge, Or wildered looks, or words, or evil speech,

Making her but an image of the thought,
Which, like a prophet or a shadow,
brought

News of the terrors of the coming time.
Like an accuser branded with the crime
He would have cast on a beloved friend,

With all their stings and venom can Whose dying eyes reproach not to the

Our love, we love not:-if the grave The pale betrayer-he then with vain

which hides

The victim from the tyrant, and divides
The cheek that whitens from the eyes
that dart

Imperious inquisition to the heart
That is another's, could dissever ours,
We love not."-"What! do not the
silent hours

Beckon thee to Gherardi's bridal bed?
Is not that ring❞—a pledge, he would
have said,

Of broken vows, but she with patient look

The golden circle from her finger took, And said "Accept this token of my faith,

The pledge of vows to be absolved by death;

With open eyes and folded hands she lay, And I am dead or shall be soon-my | Pale in the light of the declining day.

knell

Will mix its music with that merry

bell,

Meanwhile the day sinks fast, the sun is set,

Does it not sound as if they sweetly And in the lighted hall the guests are
said
met;

'We toll a corpse out of the marriage The beautiful looked lovelier in the light
bed?'
Of love, and admiration, and delight
Reflected from a thousand hearts and
eyes

The flowers upon my bridal chamber

strewn

Will serve unfaded for my bier- -so Kindling a momentary Paradise.
This crowd is safer than the silent wood,
Where love's own doubts disturb the

soon

That even the dying violet will not die
Before Ginevra." The strong fantasy
Had made her accents weaker and more
weak,

And quenched the crimson life upon her

cheek,

And glazed her eyes, and spread an atmosphere

Round her, which chilled the burning noon with fear,

solitude;

On frozen hearts the fiery rain of wine
Falls, and the dew of music more divine
Tempers the deep emotions of the time
To spirits cradled in a sunny clime:-
How many meet, who never yet have

met,

To part too soon, but never to forget.
How many saw the beauty, power and wit