and their woe,

Their grinding centuries, what Muse

had those?

futile snare,

meek;

It lights the poet's heart up like a

Is

star;

VII.

here no triumph? Nay, what though

afar,

should pour

Rain, lark-like, her fancies, His dreaming hands wander Mid heart's-ease and pansies; "T is a dream! 'Tis a vision!" Shrieks Mammon aghast; "The day's broad derision Will chase it at last; Ye are mad, ye have taken A slumbering kraken

For firm land of the Past!"
Ah! if he awaken,

God shield us all then,
If this dream rudely shaken
Shall cheat him again!

IX.

Since first I heard our North-wind

blow,

Since first I saw Atlantic throw

On our fierce rocks his thunderous

snow,

The rattle of thy shield at Marathon
I loved thee, Freedom; as a boy

Did with a Grecian joy

Through all my pulses run;

But I have learned to love thee now

Without the helm upon thy gleaming brow,

A maiden mild and undefiled Like her who bore the world's redeeming child;

And surely never did thine altars
glance

With purer fires than now in France;
While, in their bright white flashes,

Wrong's shadow, backward cast,
Waves cowering o'er the ashes
Of the dead, blaspheming Past,
O'er the shapes of fallen giants,
His own unburied brood,
Whose dead hands clench defiance

At the overpowering Good : And down the happy future runs a flood Of prophesying light;

It shows an Earth no longer stained with blood,

Blossom and fruit where now we see the bud

Of Brotherhood and Right.

ANTI-APIS.

PRAISEST Law, friend? We, too, love it much as they that love it best ;

"T is the deep, august foundation, whereon Peace and Justice rest;