Like bees on mountain-flowers; they knew the truth,
And from their thrones in vindication sprung;

The men of faith and law then without ruth

Drew forth their secret steel, and stabbed each ardent youth.

XX

They stabbed them in the back and sneered-a slave 4396 Who stood behind the throne, those corpses drew Each to its bloody, dark, and secret grave; And one more daring raised his steel anew To pierce the Stranger. What hast thou to do With me, poor wretch?'-Calm, solemn, and severe, That voice unstrung his sinews, and he threw His dagger on the ground, and pale with fear, Sate silently-his voice then did the Stranger rear.

XXI

'It doth avail not that I weep for ye

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Ye cannot change, since ye are old and gray, And ye have chosen your fot-your fame must be A book of blood, whence in a milder day

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Now ye shall triumph. I am Laon's friend,
And him to your revenge will I betray,

Men shall learn truth, when ye are wrapped in clay:

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So ye concede one easy boon. Attend!

For now I speak of things which ye can apprehend.

XXII

"There is a People mighty in its youth, A land beyond the Oceans of the West,

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Where, though with rudest rites, Freedom and Truth

Are worshipped; from a glorious Mother's breast,
Who, since high Athens fell, among the rest
Sate like the Queen of Nations, but in woe,
By inbred monsters outraged and oppressed,
Turns to her chainless child for succour now,

It draws the milk of Power in Wisdom's fullest flow.

XXIII

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'That land is like an Eagle, whose young gaze Feeds on the noontide beam, whose golden plume

Floats moveless on the storm, and in the blaze

4425

Of sunrise gleams when Earth is wrapped in gloom;
An epitaph of glory for the tomb

Of murdered Europe may thy fame be made,
Great People! as the sands shalt thou become;
Thy growth is swift as morn, when night must fade;
The multitudinous Earth shall sleep beneath thy shade.

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XXIV

'Yes, in the desert there is built a home

For Freedom. Genius is made strong to rear The monuments of man beneath the dome 4432 there] then ed. 1818.

Of a new Heaven; myriads assemble there,
Whom the proud lords of man, in rage or fear,
Drive from their wasted homes: the boon I pray
Is this that Cythna shall be convoyed there-
Nay, start not at the name-America!
And then to you this night Laon will I betray.

XXV

'With me do what you will. I am your foe!' The light of such a joy as makes the stare Of hungry snakes like living emeralds glow,

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Shone in a hundred human eyes-'Where, where Is Laon? Haste! fly! drag him swiftly here! We grant thy boon.'-I put no trust in ye,

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Swear by the Power ye dread.'-'We swear, we swear!' The Stranger threw his vest back suddenly,

And smiled in gentle pride, and said, Lo! I am he!'

CANTO XII

I

THE transport of a fierce and monstrous gladness
Spread through the multitudinous streets, fast flying
Upon the winds of fear; from his dull madness

The starveling waked, and died in joy; the dying,
Among the corpses in stark agony lying,
Just heard the happy tidings, and in hope

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Closed their faint eyes; from house to house replying With loud acclaim, the living shook Heaven's cope, And filled the startled Earth with echoes: morn did ope

II

Its pale eyes then; and lo! the long array

Of guards in golden arms, and Priests beside,
Singing their bloody hymns, whose garbs betray
The blackness of the faith it seems to hide;
And see, the Tyrant's gem-wrought chariot glide
Among the gloomy cowls and glittering spears-
A Shape of light is sitting by his side,
A child most beautiful. I' the midst appears
Laon,-exempt alone from mortal hopes and fears.

III

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His head and feet are bare, his hands are bound Behind with heavy chains, yet none do wreak Their scoffs on him, though myriads throng around; 4470 There are no sneers upon his lip which speak That scorn or hate has made him bold; his cheek Resolve has not turned pale,-his eyes are mild And calm, and, like the morn about to break, Smile on mankind-his heart seems reconciled To all things and itself, like a reposing child.

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IV

Tumult was in the soul of all beside,

Ill joy, or doubt, or fear; but those who saw Their tranquil victim pass, felt wonder glide Into their brain, and became calm with awe.See, the slow pageant near the pile doth draw. A thousand torches in the spacious square,

Borne by the ready slaves of ruthless law, Await the signal round: the morning fair

Is changed to a dim night by that unnatural glare.

And see! beneath a sun-bright canopy,
Upon a platform level with the pile,
The anxious Tyrant sit, enthroned on high,
Girt by the chieftains of the host; all smile
In expectation, but one child: the while

I, Laon, led by mutes, ascend my bier

Of fire, and look around: each distant isle
Is dark in the bright dawn; towers far and near,
Pierce like reposing flames the tremulous atmosphere.

VI

There was such silence through the host, as when
An earthquake trampling on some populous town,
Has crushed ten thousand with one tread, and men
Expect the second; all were mute but one,
That fairest child, who, bold with love, alone
Stood up
before the King, without avail,
Pleading for Laon's life her stifled groan
Was heard-she trembled like one aspen pale
Among the gloomy pines of a Norwegian vale.

VII

What were his thoughts linked in the morning sun,
Among those reptiles, stingless with delay,
Even like a tyrant's wrath? The signal-gun

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A thousand torches drop.-and hark, the last
Bursts on that awful silence; far away,

Roared-hark, again! In that dread pause he lay
As in a quiet dream-the slaves obey-

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Millions, with hearts that beat both loud and fast, Watch for the springing flame expectant and aghast.

VIII

They fly-the torches fall-a cry of fear

Has startled the triumphant!-they recede! For ere the cannon's roar has died, they hear

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The tramp of hoofs like earthquake, and a steed
Dark and gigantic, with the tempest's speed,

Bursts through their ranks: a woman sits thereon,
Fairer, it seems, than aught that earth can breed,
Calm, radiant, like the phantom of the dawn,
A spirit from the caves of daylight wandering gone.

IX

All thought it was God's Angel come to sweep
The lingering guilty to their fiery grave;
The Tyrant from his throne in dread did leap,-

Her innocence his child from fear did save;
Scared by the faith they feigned, each priestly slave
Knelt for his mercy whom they served with blood,
And, like the refluence of a mighty wave
Sucked into the loud sea, the multitude

With crushing panic, fled in terror's altered mood.

X

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They pause, they blush, they gaze,—a gathering shout
Bursts like one sound from the ten thousand streams
Of a tempestuous sea:-that sudden rout

One checked, who, never in his mildest dreams
Felt awe from grace or loveliness, the seams
Of his rent heart so hard and cold a creed

Had seared with blistering ice-but he misdeems
That he is wise, whose wounds do only bleed
Inly for self-thus thought the Iberian Priest indeed,

ΧΙ

And others too, thought he was wise to see,

In pain, and fear, and hate, something divine; In love and beauty, no divinity.

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Now with a bitter smile, whose light did shine
Like a fiend's hope upon his lips and eyne,

He said, and the persuasion of that sneer

4545

Rallied his trembling comrades-'Is it mine

To stand alone, when kings and soldiers fear

A woman? Heaven has sent its other victim here.'

XII

'Were it not impious,' said the King, 'to break
Our holy oath?'-Impious to keep it, say!'
Shrieked the exulting Priest-'Slaves, to the stake
Bind her, and on my head the burden lay
Of her just torments:-at the Judgement Day
Will I stand up before the golden throne

Of Heaven, and cry, "To thee did I betray
An Infidel; but for me she would have known
Another moment's joy! the glory be thine own!"

XIII

They trembled, but replied not, nor obeyed,
Pausing in breathless silence. Cythna sprung
From her gigantic steed, who, like a shade

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Chased by the winds, those vacant streets among
Fled tameless, as the brazen rein she flung
Upon his neck, and kissed his moonèd brow.

A piteous sight, that one so fair and young,
The clasp of such a fearful death should woo
With smiles of tender joy as beamed from Cythna now.

XIV

147

4565

The warm tears burst in spite of faith and fear
From many a tremulous eye, but like soft dews
Which feed Spring's earliest buds, hung gathered there,
Frozen by doubt,-alas! they could not choose
But weep; for when her faint limbs did refuse
To climb the pyre, upon the mutes she smiled;
And with her eloquent gestures, and the hues

Of her quick lips, even as a weary child

4570

Wins sleep from some fond nurse with its caresses mild,

XV

She won them, though unwilling, her to bind

Near me, among the snakes. When there had fled One soft reproach that was most thrilling kind,

She smiled on me, and nothing then we said,
But each upon the other's countenance fed
Looks of insatiate love; the mighty veil

Which doth divide the living and the dead
Was almost rent, the world grew dim and pale,-
All light in Heaven or Earth beside our love did fail. -

XVI

Yet-yet-one brief relapse, like the last beam
Of dying flames, the stainless air around
Hung silent and serene-a blood-red gleam

Burst upwards, hurling fiercely from the ground
The globed smoke,-I heard the mighty sound
Of its uprise, like a tempestuous ocean;

And through its chasms I saw, as in a swound,
The tyrant's child fall without life or motion
Before his throne, subdued by some unseen emotion.

XVII

And is this death ?-The pyre has disappeared,
The Pestilence, the Tyrant, and the throng;
The flames grow silent-slowly there is heard
The music of a breath-suspending song,,
Which, like the kiss of love when life is young,
Steeps the faint eyes in darkness sweet and deep;
With ever-changing notes it floats along,
Till on my passive soul there seemed to creep
A melody, like waves on wrinkled sands that leap.
4577 there] then ed. 1818.

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