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Hid, but quenched it not; again
Scorns the embattled tempest's warning,
Of truth they purge their dazzled eyes.
Let the beautiful and the brave
Worlds on worlds are rolling ever
From creation to decay, Like the bubbles on a river
Sparkling, bursting, borne away.
In the brief dust and light
New gods, new laws receive,
Bright or dim are they as the robes they last On Death's bare ribs had cast.
A power from the unknown God,
Like a triumphal path he trod
The thorns of death and shame.
Was like the vapour dim
Which the orient planet animates with light; Hell, Sin, and Slavery came,
Like blood-hounds mild and tame,
Nor preyed, until their Lord had taken flight; The moon of Mahomet
Arose, and it shall set:
While blazoned as on heaven's immortal noon The cross leads generations on.
Swift as the radiant shapes of sleep
From one whose dreams are Paradise Fly, when the fond wretch wakes to weep, And day peers forth with her blank eyes; So fleet, so faint, so fair,
The Powers of earth and air
Fled from the folding star of Bethlehem :
And even Olympian Jove
Grew weak, for killing Truth had glared on them; Our hills and seas and streams
Dispeopled of their dreams,
Their waters turned to blood, their dew to tears, Wailed for the golden years.
The world's great age begins anew,
The earth doth like a snake renew
Heaven smiles, and faiths and empires gleam,
A brighter Hellas rears its mountains
From waves serener far;
A new Peneus rolls his fountains
Against the morning-star.
Where fairer Tempes bloom, there sleep
A loftier Argo cleaves the main,
And loves, and weeps, and dies.
O, write no more the tale of Troy,
If earth Death's scroll must be ! Nor mix with Laian rage the joy Which dawns upon the free: Although a subtler Sphinx renew Riddles of death Thebes never knew.
Another Athens shall arise,
And to remoter time
Bequeath, like sunset to the skies,
And leave, if nought so bright may live,
Saturn and Love their long repose
Shall burst, more bright and good
Not gold, not blood, their altar dowers
O cease! must hate and death return?
The world is weary of the past,