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The infuriate spirits of the Murdered make
Fierce merriment, and vengeance ask of Heaven.
Warm'd with new influence, the unwholesome Plain
Sent up its foulest fogs to meet the Morn:
The Sun that rose on Freedom, rose in Blood!
"Maiden belov'd, and Delegate of Heaven!"
(To her the tutelary Spirit said)
"Soon shall the Morning struggle into Day,
The stormy Morning into cloudless Noon.
Much hast thou seen, nor all canst understand—
But this be thy best Omen—Save thy Country!"
Thus saying, from the answering Maid he pass'd,
And with him disappear'd the Heavenly Vision."
"Glory to Thee, Father of Earth and Heaven!
All conscious Presence of the Universe!
Nature's vast Ever-acting Energy!
In Will, in Deed, Impulse of All to All!
Whether thy Love with unrefracted Ray
lacerations of cheeks, nor with funereal ululation—but with circling dances, and the joy of songs. Thou art terrible indeed, yet thou dwelleth with Liberty, stern Genius! Borne on thy dark pinions over the swelling of Ocean, they return to their native country. There, by the side of Fountains beneath Citron-groves, the lovers tell to their beloved what horrors, being Men, they had endured from Men.
