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That pledge is answered.
To thy ear The unchained city sends its cheer, And, tuned to joy, the muffled bells of fear
Ring Victor in. The land sits free
And happy by the summer sea, And Bourbon Naples now is Italy !
She smiles above her broken chain
The languid smile that follows pain, Stretching her cramped limbs to the sun again.
(, joy for all, who hear her call
From Camaldoli's convent-wall
A new life breathes among her vines
And olives, like the breath of pines Blown downward from the breezy Åpennines.
Lean, () my friend, to meet that breath,
Rejoice as one who witnesseth
Thy sorrow shall no more be pain,
Its tears shall fall in sunlit rain, Writing the grave with flowers: “Arisen again!”
My ear is full of summer sounds,
Of summer sights my languid eye ;
And in the noon-time shadows lie.
I hear the wild bee wind his horn,
The bird swings on the ripened wheat,
of heat. Another sound my spirit hears,
A deeper sound that drowns them all,-
The Macedonian cry to Paul!
I know the word and countersign;
I know the place that should be mine. Shamed be the hands that idly fold,
And lips that woo the reed's accord, When laggard Time the hour has tolled For true with false and new with old
To fight the battles of the Lord ! O brothers ! blest by partial Fate
With power to match the will and deed, To him your summons comes too late Who sinks beneath his armor's weight,
And has no answer but God-speed !
I WAIT and watch : before my eyes
Methinks the night grows thin and gray ; I wait and watch the eastern skies
To see the golden spears uprise
Beneath the oriflamme of day!
Like one whose limbs are bound in trance
I hear the day-sounds swell and grow, And see across the twilight glance, Troop after troop, in swift advance,
The shining ones with plumes of snow! I know the errand of their feet,
I know what mighty work is theirs ;
And speed them with unworthy prayers. I will not dream in vain despair
The steps of progress wait for me:
A drop of dew the tided sea.
The loss, if loss there be, is mine,
And yet not mine if understood; For one shall grasp and one resign, One drink life's rue, and one its wine,
And God shall make the balance good. O power to do! O baffled will!
O prayer and action ! ye are one Who may not strive, may yet fulfil The harder task of standing still,
And good but wished with God is done!
FRANCONIA FROM THE PEMIGEWASSET,
Once more, O Mountains of the North, unveil
Your brows, and lay your cloudy mantles by !
Uplift against the blue walls of the sky
Its golden net-work in your belting woods,
Smile down in rainbows from your falling floods, And on your kingly brows at morn and eve
Set crowns of fire! So shall my soul receive
Your unforgotten beauty interfuse
And splintered on the rocks their spears of rain Have set in play a thousand waterfalls, Making the dusk and silence of the woods Glad with the laughter of the chasing floods, And luminous with blown spray and silver gleams, While, in the vales below, the dry-lipped streams
Sing to the freshened meadow-lands again.
So, let me hope, the battle-storm that beats
The land with hail and fire may pass away
A greener earth and fairer sky behind,
MONADNOCK FROM WACHUSET.
I would I were a painter, for the sake
Of a sweet picture, and of her who led,
A fitting guide, with reverential tread, Into that mountain mystery. First, a lake Tinted with sunset; next the wavy lines
Of far receding hills; and yet more far, Monadnock listing from his night of pines His
rosy forehead to the evening star. Beside us, purple-zoned, Wachuset laid His head against the West, whose warm light made
His aureole ; and o'er him, sharp and clear, Like a shaft of lightning in mid-launching stayed,
A single level cloud-line, shone upon
Menaced the darkness with its golden spear ! So twilight deepened round us. Still and black The great woods climbed the mountain at our back; And on their skirts, where yet the lingering day On the shorn greenness of the clearing lay,
The brown old farm-house like a bird's nest hung. With home-life sounds the desert air was stirred: The bleat of sheep along the hill we heard, The bucket plashing in the cool, sweet well, The pasture-bars that clattered as they fell ; Dogs barked, fowls fluttered, cattle lowed; the gate