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II.

The Sun and the serenest Moon sprang forth;

The burning stars of the abyss were hurld Into the depths of heaven. The dædal earth,

That island in the ocean of the world, Hung in its cloud of all-sustaining air:

But this divinest universe

Was yet a chaos and a curse, For thou wert not: but power from worst pro

ducing worse, The spirit of the beasts was kindled there,

And of the birds, and of the watery forms, And there was war among them and despair

Within them, raging without truce or terms: The bosom of their violated nurse Groaned, for beasts warred on beasts, and

worms on worms, And men on men; each heart was as a hell of

storms.

III.

Man, the imperial shape, then multiplied

His generations under the pavilion Of the Sun's throne: palace and pyramid, Temple and prison, to many a swarming mil

lion, Were, as to mountain-wolves their ragged caves.

This human living multitude

Was savage, cunning, blind, and rude, For thou wert not; but o'er the populous solitude,

Like one fierce cloud over a waste of waves,

Hung tyranny ; beneath, sate deified The sister-pest, congregator of slaves;

Into the shadow of her pinions wide, Anarchs and priests who feed on gold and blood,

Till with the stain their inmost souls are dyed, Drove the astonished herds of men from every

side.

IV.

The nodding promontories, and blue isles,

And cloud-like mountains, and dividuous waves Of Greece, basked glorious in the open smiles

Of favouring heaven: from their enchanted caves Prophetic echoes flung dim melody

On the unapprehensive wild.

The vine, the corn, the olive mild, Grew, savage yet, to human use unreconciled; And like unfolded flowers beneath the sea, Like the man's thought dark in the infant's

brain, Like aught that is which wraps what is to be, Art's deathless dreams lay veiled by many a

vein
Of Parian stone; and yet a speechless child,

Verse murmured, and Philosophy did strain
Her lidless eyes for thee; when o'er the

Ægean main

V.

Athens arose : a city such as vision

Builds from the purple crags and silver towers Of battlemented cloud, as in derision

Of kingliest masonry: the ocean floors Pave it; the evening sky pavilions it;

Its portals are inhabited

By thunder-zoned winds, each head Within its cloudy wings with sun-fire garlanded, A divine work! Athens diviner yet Gleamed with its crest of columns, on the

will Of man, as on a mount of diamond, set;

For thou wert, and thine all-creative skill Peopled, with forms that mock the eternal dead

In marble immortality, that hill
Which was thine earliest throne and latest

oracle.

VI.

Within the surface of Time's fleeting river

Its wrinkled image lies, as then it lay Immovably unquiet, and for ever

It trembles, but it cannot pass away! The voices of thy bards and sages thunder

With an earth-awakening blast

Through the caverns of the past ; Religion veils her eyes ; Oppression shrinks

aghast. A winged sound of joy, and love, and wonder,

Which soars where Expectation never flew, Rending the veil of space and time asunder! One ocean feeds the clouds, and streams,

and dew; One sun illumines heaven ; one spirit vast

With life and love makes chaos ever new,
As Athens doth the world with thy delight

renew.

VII.

Then Rome was, and from thy deep bosom fair

est, Like a wolf-cub from a Cadmæan Mænad,* She drew the milk of greatness, though thy dearest

From that Elysian food was yet unweaned; And many a deed of terrible uprightness

By thy sweet love was sanctified ;

And in thy smile, and by thy side, Saintly Camillus lived, and firm Atilius died. But when tears stained thy robe of vestal

whiteness, And gold profaned thy capitolian throne, Thou didst desert, with spirit-winged lightness,

The senate of the tyrants : they sunk prone Slaves of one tyrant. Palatinus sighed

Faint echoes of Ionian song; that tone
Thou didst delay to hear, lamenting to disown.

VIII.

From what Hyrcanian glen or frozen hill,

Or piny promontory of the Arctic main, Or utmost islet inaccessible,

Didst thou lament the ruin of thy reign, Teaching the woods and waves, and desert rocks, And every Naiad's ice-cold urn,

* See the Bacchæ of Euripides.

To talk in echoes sad and stern, Of that sublimest lore which man had dared un

learn ? For neither didst thou watch the wizard flocks Of the Scald's dreams, nor haunt the Druid's

sleep. What if the tears rained througb thy sbattered

locks, Were quickly dried ? for thou didst groan,

not weep,

When from its sea of death to kill and burn,

The Galilean serpent forth did creep,
And made thy world an undistinguishable heap.

IX.

A thousand years the Earth cried, Where art

thou ? And then the shadow of thy coming fell On Saxon Alfred's olive-cinctured brow :

And many a warrior-peopled citadel, Like rocks, which fire lifts out of the flat deep,

Arose in sacred Italy,

Frowning o'er the tempestuous sea Of kings, and priests, and slaves, in tower-crowned

majesty; That multitudinous anarchy did sweep,

And burst around their walls, like idle foam, Whilst from the human spirit's deepest deep, Strange melody with love and awe struck

dumb

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