11. And what art thou? I know, but dare not speak: Yet in the paleness of thy thoughtful cheek, Is whispered, to subdue my fondest fears: 12. They say that thou wert lovely from thy birth, I wonder not-for One then left this earth Shines on thee, thro' the tempests dark and wild Which shake these latter days; and thou canst claim The shelter, from thy Sire, of an immortal name. 13. One voice came forth from many a mighty spirit, And Faith, and Custom, and low-thoughted cares, Left the torn human heart, their food and dwelling-place. 14. Truth's deathless voice pauses among mankind! If there must be no response to my cryIf men must rise and stamp with fury blind On his pure name who loves them,-thou and I, Sweet friend! can look from our tranquillity Like lamps into the world's tempestuous night,Two tranquil stars, while clouds are passing by Which wrap them from the foundering seaman's sight, That burn from year to year with unextinguished light. VOL L E WHEN the last hope of trampled France had failed From visions of despair I rose, and scaled Whose caverned base with the vext surge was hoary; II. So as I stood, one blast of muttering thunder Darkness more dread than night was poured upon the ground. III. Hark! 'tis the rushing of a wind that sweeps One mighty stream, whirlwind and waves upthrown, Lightning, and hail, and darkness eddying by. There is a pause-the sea-birds, that were gone Into their caves to shriek, come forth, to spy What calm has fall'n on earth, what light is in the sky. IV. For, where the irresistible storm had cloven Quivered like burning emerald: calm was spread Earth and the upper air, the vast clouds fled, Countless and swift as leaves on autumn's tempest shed. V. For ever, as the war became more fierce Between the whirlwinds and the rack on high, Past on, in slow and moving majesty; Its upper horn arrayed in mists, which soon But slowly fled, like dew beneath the beams of noon. VI. I could not choose but gaze; a fascination Dwelt in that moon, and sky, and clouds, which drew Of what I knew not, I remained:-the hue VII. Even like a bark, which from a chasm of mountains, Which there collects the strength of all its fountains, Pursued it with fierce blasts, and lightnings swift and warm. VIII. A course precipitous, of dizzy speed, Suspending thought and breath; a monstrous sight! An Eagle and a Serpent wreathed in fight:- The Eagle, hovering, wheeled to left and right, IX. A shaft of light upon its wings descended, The Serpent's mailed and many-coloured skin Shifted and glanced before the Eagle's stedfast eye. X. Around, around, in ceaseless circles wheeling Its lessening orbs, sometimes as if it failed, Drooped thro' the air; and still it shrieked and wailed And casting back its eager head, with beak And talon unremittingly assailed The wreathed Serpent, who did ever seek Upon his enemy's heart a mortal wound to wreak. XI. What life, what power, was kindled and arose Within the sphere of that appalling fray! For, from the encounter of those wondrous foes, A vapour like the sea's suspended spray Hung gathered: in the void air, far away, Floated the shattered plumes; bright scales did leap, Where'er the Eagle's talons made their way, Like sparks into the darkness;-as they sweep, Blood stains the snowy foam of the tumultuous deep. XII. Swift chances in that combat-many a check, XIII. Then on the white edge of the bursting surge, The wind with his wild writhings; for to break As in despair, and with his sinewy neck, Then soar as swift as smoke from a volcano springs. XIV. Wile baffled wile, and strength encountered strength, Of that portentous fight appeared at length: It had endured, when lifeless, stark, and rent, With clang of wings and scream the Eagle past, |