A MEDLEY.
123
The glittering axe was broken in their arms,
Their arms were shatter'd to the shoulder blade,
Their arms were shatter'd to the shoulder blade,
'Our enemies have fall'n, but this shalt grow
A night of Summer from the heat, a breadth
Of Autumn, dropping fruits of power; and roll'd
With music in the Æonian breeze of Time,
The tops shall strike from star to star, the fangs
Shall move the stony bases of the world.
A night of Summer from the heat, a breadth
Of Autumn, dropping fruits of power; and roll'd
With music in the Æonian breeze of Time,
The tops shall strike from star to star, the fangs
Shall move the stony bases of the world.
'And now, O maids, behold our sanctuary
Is violate, our laws broken: fear we not
To break them more in their behoof, whose arms
Champion'd our cause and won it with a day
Blanch'd in our annals, and perpetual feast,
When dames and heroines of the golden year
Shall strip a hundred hollows bare of Spring,
To rain an April of ovation round
Their statues borne aloft, the three: but come,
We will be liberal, since our rights are won.
Is violate, our laws broken: fear we not
To break them more in their behoof, whose arms
Champion'd our cause and won it with a day
Blanch'd in our annals, and perpetual feast,
When dames and heroines of the golden year
Shall strip a hundred hollows bare of Spring,
To rain an April of ovation round
Their statues borne aloft, the three: but come,
We will be liberal, since our rights are won.
