MLIV. IIow, to that vast and peopled city led, which was a field of holy warfare then, I walk'd among the dying and the dead, And shared in fearless deeds with evil men. Calm as an angel in the dragon's den— How I braved death for liberty and truth, And spurn’d at peace, and power, and fame; and when Those hopes had lost the glory of their youth, Ilow sadly 1 return’d—might move the hearer's ruth: XLV. o Warm tears throng fast! the tale may not be said— Know then, that when this grief had been subdued, I was not left, like others, cold and dead; The Spirit whom I loved in solitude Sustain'd his child: the tempest-shaken wood, The waves, the fountains, and the hush of nightThese were his voice, and well I understood His smile divine, when the calm sea was bright With silent stars, and Ileaven was breathless with delight. XLVI. In lonely glens amid the roar of rivers, When the dim nights were moonless, have I known Joys which no tongue can tell; my pale lip quivers When thought revisits them —know thou alone, That after many wondrous years were flown, I was awaken'd by a shriek of woe; And over me a mystic robe was thrown, By viewless hands, and a bright Star did glow Before my steps—the Snake then met his mortal foc.

XLWii. Thou fearest not then the Serpent on thy heart! Fear it! she said, with brief and passionate cry, And spake no more : that silence made me start— I look'd, and we were sailing pleasantly, Swift as a cloud between the sea and sky, Beneath the rising moon seen far away; Mountains of ice, like sapphire, piled on high Hemming the horizon round, in silence lay On the still waters—these we did approach alway.

XLVIII. And swift and swifter grew the vessel's motion, So that a dizzy trance fell on my brain– Wild music woke me: we had past the ocean which girds the pole, Nature's remotest reignAnd we glode fast o'er a pellucid plain Of waters, azure with the noon-tide day. Etherial mountains shone around—a Fane Stood in the midst, girt by green isles which lay On the blue sunny deep, resplendent far away.

XLIX. It was a Temple, such as mortal hand Has never built, nor ecstacy, nor dream, heared in the cities of enchanted land : T was likest Heaven, ere yet day's purple stream Ebbs o'er the western forest, while the gleam Of the unrisen moon among the clouds is gathering—when with many a golden beam The thronging constellations rush in crowds, Paving with fire the sky and the marmoreal floods.

L. Like what may be conceived of this vast dome, When from the depths which thought can seldom pierce Genius beholds it rise, his native home, Girt by the deserts of the Universe, Yet, nor in painting's light, or mightier verse, Or sculpture's marble language can invest That shape to mortal sense—such glooms immerse That incommunicable sight, and rest Upon the labouring brain and overburthen'd breast.

LI. Winding among the lawny islands fair, Whose bloomy forests starred the shadowy deep, The wingless boat paused where an ivory stair Its fretwork in the crystal sea did steep, Encircling that vast Fane's aerial heap : We disembark'd, and through a portal wide We pass'd—whose roof of moonstone carved, did keep A glimmering o'er the forms on every side, Sculptures like life and thought; immoveable, deep-eyed.

Lii. We came to a vast hall, whose glorious roof Was diamond, which had drank the lightning's slicen In darkness, and now pour'd it through the woof Of spell-inwoven clouds hung there to screen Its blinding splendour—through such veil was seen That work of subtlest power, divine and rare; Orb above orb, with starry shapes between, And horn'd moons, and meteors strange and fair, On night-black columns poised — one hollow hemisphere! Liii. Ten thousand columns in that quivering light Distinct—between whose shafts wound far away The long and labyrinthine aisles—more bright with their own radiance than the Heaven of Day; And on the jasper walls around, there lay Paintings, the poesy of mightiest thought, Which did the Spirit's history display; A tale of passionate change, divinely taught, Which, in their winged dance, unconscious Genii wrought. liw. Beneath, there sate on many a sapphire throne, The Great, who had departed from mankind, A mighty Senate;—some, whose white hair shone Like mountain snow, mild, beautiful, and blind. Some, female forms,whose gestures beam'd with mind; And ardent youths, and children bright and fair; And some had lyres whose strings were intertwined With pale and clinging flames, which ever there Waked faint yet thrilling sounds that pierced the crystal air. LV. One seat was vacant in the midst, a throne, Reard on a pyramid like sculptured flame, Distinct with circling steps which rested on Their own deep fire—soon as the Woman came Into that hall, she shriek'd the Spirit's name And fell; and vanish'd slowly from the sight. Darkness arose from her dissolving frame, which gathering, fill d that dome of woven light, Blotting it's sphered stars with supernatural night.

LWi. Then first, two glittering lights were seen to glide In circles on the amethystine floor, Small serpent eyes trailing from side to side, Like meteors on a river's grassy shore, They round each other roll'd, dilating more And more—then rose, commingling into one, One clear and mighty planet hanging o'er A cloud of deepest shadow, which was thrown Athwart the glowing steps and the crystalliue throne.

LVII. The cloud which rested on that cone of flame Was cloven; beneath the planet sate a Form,

Fairer than tongue can speak or thought may frame,

The radiance of whose limbs rose-like and warm Flow'd forth, and did with softest light inform The shadowy dome, the sculptures, and the state Of those assembled shapes—with clinging charm Sinking upon their hearts and mine–He sate Majestic, yet inost mild-calm, yet compassionate.

LVIII. Wonder and joy a passing faintness threw Over my brow—a hand supported ine, Whose touch was magic strength : an eye of blue Look'd into mine, like moonlight, soothingly; And a voice said—Thou must a listener be This day—two mighty Spirits now return, Like birds of calm, from the world's raging sea, They pour fresh light from Ilopes immortal urn; A tale of human power—despair not—list and learn - LIX. 1 look'd, and lo! one stood forth eloquently, flis eyes were dark and deep, and the clear brow Which shadow'd them was like the morning sky, The cloudless Heaven of Spring, when in their flow Through the bright air, the soft winds as they blow Wake the green world—his gestures did obey The oracular mind that made his features glow, And where his curved lips half open lay, Passion's divinest stream had made impetuous way.

LX. Beneath the darkness of his outspread hair Ile stood thus beautiful : but there was One Who sate beside him like his shadow there, And held his hand—far lovelier—she was known To be thus fair, by the few lines alone

Which through her floating locks and gather'd cloke,

Glances of soul-dissolving glory, shone:– None else beheld her eyes—in him they woke

Memories which found a tongue, as thus he silence

CANTO II.

1. ... • The star-light smile of children, the sweet looks Of women, the fair breast from which I fed, The murmur of the unreposing brooks, And the green light which, shifting overhead, Some tangled bower of vines around me shed, The shells on the sea-sand, and the wild towers, The lamp-light through the rafters cheerly spread, And on the twining lax—in life's young hours These sights and sounds did nurse my spirits folded powers. II. In Argolis, beside the echoing sea, Such impulses within my mortal frame Arose, and they were dear to memory, Like tokens of the dead:—but others came Soon, in another shape: the wondrous fame Of the past world, the vital words and deeds Of intnds whom neither time nor change can taine, Traditions dark and old, whence evil creeds Start forth, and whose dim shade a stream of poison feeds. iii. I heard, as all have heard, the various story Of human life, and wept unwilling tears. Feeble historians of its shane and blory, False disputants on all its hopes and fears, Victims who worshipp'd ruin, chroniclers Of daily scorn, and slaves who loathed their state; Yet lattering power had given its ninisters A throne of judgment in the grave:—'t was fate, That among such as these my youth should seek its mate. IV. The land in which I lived, by a fell bane Was wither'd up. Tyrants dwelt side by side, And stabled in our homes,—until the chain Stitled 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.

W. Earth, our bright home, its mountains and its waters, And the etherial 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 wander'd 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 murder'd hope inherits They sought, and in their helpless Inisery blind, A deeper prison and heavier chains did find, And stronger tyrants:—a dark gulf before, The realm of a stern Ruler, yawn'd; behind, Terror and Time conflicting drove, and bore On their tempestuous flood the shrieking wretch from shore. - Wii. 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 WIII. For they all pined in bondage; body and soul, Tyrant and slave, victim and torturer, bent Before one Power, to which supreme control Over their will by their own weakness lent, Made all its many names omnipotent; All symbols of things evil, all divine; And hymns of blood or mockery, which rent. The air from all its fanes, did intertwine Imposture's impious toils round each discordantshrine.

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 Pour'd on the earth, and brows anxious and pale With the hcart's warfare; did I gather food To feed my many thoughts—a tameless multitude :

I wander'd through the wrecks of days departed Far by the desolated shore, when even O'er the still sca and jagged islets darted The light of moonrise; in the northern Heaven, Among the clouds near the horizon driven, The mountains lay beneath one planet pale; Around me, broken tombs and columns riven Look d 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 Who on the fragments of yon shatter'd dome Have stamp'd the sign of power—l felt the sway Of the vast stream of ages bear away My floating thoughts—iny heart beat loud and fast— Even as a storm let loose beneath the ray Of the still moon, my spirit onward past 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 betray'd your impious trust.

XIV. It must be so—I will arise and waken The multitude, and like a sulphurous hill, Which on a sudden from its snows has shaken The swoon of ages, it shall burst and fill The world with cleansing fire; it must, it will— It may not be restrain'd –and who shall stand Amid the rocking earthquake stedfast still, But Laon” on high Freedom's desert land A tower whose marble walls the leagued storms withstand XW. One summer night, in commune with the hope Thus deeply fed, amid those ruins grey I watch'd, beneath the dark sky's starry cope; And ever from that hour upon me lay The burthen of this hope, and night or day, In vision or in dream, clove to my breast: Among mankind, or when gone far away To the lone shores and mountains, "t was a guest, Which follow’d where I fled, and watch'd when I did rest. XVI. These hopes found words thro' which my spirit sought To weave a bondage of such sympathy, As might create some response to the thought Which ruled me now—and as the vapours lie Bright in the outspread morning's radiancy, So were these thoughts invested with the light Of language; and all bosoms made reply On which its lustre stream'd, whene'er it might Thro' darkness wide and deep those tranced spirits smite. XVII. Yes, many an eye with dizzy tears was dim, And oft I thought to clasp my own heart's brother, When I could feel the listener's senses swim, And hear his breath its own swift gaspings smother Even as my words evoked them—and another, And yet another, I did fondly deem, Felt that we all were sons of one great mother; And the cold truth such sad reverse did seein, As to awake in grief from some delightful dream.

XVIII. Yes, oft beside the ruin’d labyrinth Which skirts the hoary caves of the green deep, Did Laon and his friend on one grey plinth, Round whose worn base the wild waves hiss and leap, Resting at eve, a lofty converse keep: And that this friend was false, may now be said Calmly—that he like other men could weep Tears which are lies, and could betray and spread Snares for that guileless heart which for his own had bled. wix. Then, had no great aim recompensed my sorrow, I must have sought dark respite from its stress, In dreamless rest, in sleep that sees no morrow— For to tread life's dismaying wilderness Without one smile to cheer, one voice to bless, Amid the snares and scoffs of human kind, Is hard—but I betray'd it not, nor less With love that scorn'd return, sought to unbind The interwoven clouds which make its wisdom blind.

xx. With deathless minds which leave where they have past A path of light, my soul communion knew ; Till from that glorious intercourse, at last, As from a mine of magic store, I drew Words which were weapons;–round my heart there grew The adamantine armour of their power, And from my fancy wings of golden hue Sprang forth—yet not alone from wisdom's tower, A minister of truth, these plumes young Laon bore. XXI. An orphan with my parents lived, whose eyes Were load-stars of delight, which drew me home When I might wander forth ; nor did I prize Aught human thing beneath Heaven's mighty dome Beyond this child: so when sad hours were come, And baffled hope like ice still elung to me, Since kin were cold, and friends had now become Heartless and false, I turn'd from all, to be, Cythma, the only source of tears and smiles to thee.

xxii. What wert thou then? A child most infantine, Yet wandering far beyond that innocent age In all but its sweet looks and mien divine; Even then, methought, with the world's tyrant rage A patient warfare thy young heart did wage, when those soft eyes of scarcely conscious thought, Some tale, or thine own fancies would engage To overtlow with tears, or converse fraught With passion, o'er their depths its fleeting light had wrought. xxiii. She moved upon this earth a shape of brightness, A power, that from its objects scarcely drew One impulse of her being—in her lightness Most like some radiant cloud of morning dew, Which wanders through the waste air's pathless blue, To nourish some far desert; she did seem Beside me, gathering beauty as she grew, Like the bright shade of some immortal dream Which walks, when tempest sleeps, the wave of life's dark stream.

xxiv. As mine own shadow was this child to me, A second self, far dearer and more fair; Which clothed in undissolving radiancy, All those steep paths which languor and despair Of human things, had made so dark and bare, But which I trod alone—nor, till bereft Of friends, and overcome by lonely care, Knew I what solace for that loss was left, Though by a bitter wound my trusting heart was cleft.

XXV. Once she was dear, now she was all I had To love in human life—this playmate sweet, This child of twelve years old—so she was made My sole associate, and her willing feet Wander'd with mine where earth and ocean meet, Beyond the aerial mountains whose vast cells The unreposing billows ever beat, Through forests wide and old, and lawny dells, Where boughs of incense droop over the emerald wells.

XXVI. And warm and light I felt her clasping hand When twined in mine: she followed where I went, Through the lone paths of our immortal land. It had no waste, but some memorial lent Which strung me to my toil—some monument Vital with mind: then, Cythna by my side, Until the bright and beaming day were spent, Would rest, with looks entreating to abide, Too earnest and too sweet ever to be denied.

xxvii. And soon I could not have refused her—thus For ever, day and night, we two were ne'er Parted, but when brief sleep divided us: And when the pauses of the lulling air Of noon beside the sea, had made a lair For her soothed senses, in my arms she slept, And I kept watch over her slumbers there, While, as the shifting visions o'er her swept, Amid her innocent rest by turns she smiled and wept.

XXVIII. And, in the murmur of her dreams was heard Sometimes the name of Laon —suddenly She would arise, and like the secret bird Whom sunset wakens, fill the shore and sky With her sweet accents—a wild melody! Hymns which my soul had woven to Freedom, strong The source of passion whence they rose, to be; Triumphant strains, which, like a spirit's tongue, To the enchanted waves that child of glory sung,

XXIX. Her white arms lifted through the shadowy stream Of her loose hair—oh, excellently great Seem'd to me then my purpose, the vast theme Of those impassion'd songs, when Cythna sate Amid the calm which rapture doth create After its tumult, her heart vibrating, ller spirit o'er the ocean's floating state From her deep eyes far wandering, on the wing Of visions that were mine, beyond its utmost spring.

xxx. For, before Cythna loved it, had my song Peopled with thoughts the boundless universe, A mighty congregation, which were strong Where'er they trod the darkness to disperse The cloud of that unutterable curse Which clings upon mankind —all things became Slaves to my holy and heroic verse, Earth, sea and sky, the planets, life and fame And fate, or whate'er else binds the world's wondrous frame. XXXI. And this beloved child thus felt the sway Of my conceptions, gathering like a cloud The very wind on which it rolls away : Hers too were all my thoughts, ere yet endow’d With music and with light, their fountains flow'd In poesy; and her still and earnest face, Pallid with feelings which intensely glow'd Within, was turn'd on mine with speechless grace, Watching the hopes which there her heart had learn'd to trace. xxxii. In me, communion with this purest being Kindled intenser zeal, and made me wise In knowledge, which in hers mine own mind seeing, Left in the human world few mysteries: How without fear of evil or disguise Was Cythna!—what a spirit strong and mild, Which death, or pain or peril could despise, Yet melt in tenderness! what genius wild, Yet mighty, was inclosed within one simple child!

Xxxiii. New lore was this—old age with its grey hair, And wrinkled legends of unworthy things, And icy sneers, is nought : it cannot dare To burst the chains which life for ever slings On the entangled soul's aspiring wings, So is it cold and cruel, and is made The careless slave of that dark power which brings Evil, like blight on man, who still betray'd, Laughs o'er the grave in which his living hopes are laid.

XXXIV. Nor are the strong and the severe to keep The empire of the world: thus Cythna taught Even in the visions of her eloquent sleep, Unconscious of the power through which she wrought The woof of such intelligible thought, As from the tranquil strength which cradled lay In her smile-peopled rest, my spirit sought Why the deceiver and the slave has sway O'er heralds so divine of truth's arising day.

xxxW. Within that fairest form, the female mind Untainted by the poison clouds which rest On the dark world, a sacred home did find : But else, from the wide earth's maternal breast, Victorious Evil, which had dispossest All native power, had those fair children torn, And made them slaves to soothe his vile unrest, And minister to lust its joys forlorn, Till they had learned to breatlle the atmosphere of scorn.

xxxWi. This misery was but coldly felt, till she Became my only friend, who had indued My purpose with a wider sympathy; Thus, Cythna mourn'd with me the servitude In which the half of humankind were mew'd Victims of lust and hate, the slaves of slaves, She mourn'd that grace and power were thrown as food To the hyena Lust, who, among graves, Over his loathed meal, laughing in agony, raves. XXXVII. And I, still gazing on that glorious child, Even as these thoughts flush'd o'er her.—. Cythna sweet, Well with the world art thou unreconciled; Never will peace and human nature meet Till free and equal man and woman greet Domestic peace; and ere this power can make In human hearts its calm and holy seat: This slavery must be broken-—as I spake, From Cythna's eyes a light of exultation brake. XXXVIII. She replied earnestly:-. It shall be mine, This task, mine, Laon!—thou hast much to gain; Nor wilt thou at poor Cythna's pride repine, If she should lead a happy female train To meet thee over the rejoicing plain, When myriads at thy call shall throng around The Golden City."—Then the child did strain My arm upon her tremulous heart, and wound Her own about my neck, till some reply she found.

XXXIX. I smiled, and spake not—“Wherefore dost thou smile At what I say? Laon, I am not weak, And though my cheek might become pale the while, With thee, if thou desirest, will I seek Through their array of banded slaves to wreak Ruin upon the tyrants. I had thought It was more hard to turn my unpractised cheek To scorn and shame, and this beloved spot And thee, O dearest friend, to leave and murmur not.

XL." • Whence came I what I am? thou, Laon, knowest How a young child should thus undaunted be; Methinks, it is a power which thou bestowest, Through which I seek, by most resembling thee, So to become most good, and great and free, Yet far beyond this Ocean's utmost roar In towers and huts are many like to me, who, could they see thine eyes, or feel such lore As I have learnt from them, like me would fear no more.

XLI. • Think'st thou that I shall speak unskilfully, And none will heed me? I remember now, How once, a slave in tortures doom'd to die, Was saved, because in accents sweet and low He sung a song his Judge loved long ago, As he was led to death.-All shall relent Who hear me—tears as mine have flow'd, shall slow, Hearts beat as mine now beats, with such intent As renovates the world; a will omnipotent!