The eucharistic bread requires no leaven;
And though your ends were hopeless, we should bless
Your cause as holy! Strive-and, having striven,
Take, for God's recompense, that righteousness!
PART II.
I.
Hearing a little child sing in the street
I leant upon his music as a theme,
Till it gave way beneath my heart's full beat,
Which tried at an exultant prophecy
But dropped before the measure was complete—
Alas, for songs and hearts! O Tuscany,
O Dante's Florence, is the type too plain?
Didst thou, too, only sing of liberty,
As little children take up a high strain
With unintentioned voices, and break off
To sleep upon their mothers' knees again?
Could'st thou not watch one hour? Then, sleep enough—
That sleep may hasten manhood, and sustain
The faint pale spirit with some muscular stuff.
II.
We thinkers, who have thought for thee and failed,—
We hopers, who have hoped for thee and lost,—
