1867.

INSCRIBED

WITH ALL DEVOTION AND REVERENCE

ΤΟ

JOSEPH MAZZINI.

A SONG OF ITALY.

UPON a windy night of stars that fell
At the wind's spoken spell,

Swept with sharp strokes of agonizing light
From the clear gulf of night,

Between the fixed and fallen glories one

Against my vision shone,

More fair and fearful and divine than they

That measure night and day,

And worthier worship; and within mine eyes The formless folded skies

Took shape and were unfolded like as flowers.

And I beheld the hours

As maidens, and the days as labouring men,
And the soft nights again

As wearied women to their own souls wed,
And ages as the dead.

And over these living, and them that died,
From one to the other side

A lordlier light than comes of earth or air
Made the world's future fair.

A woman like to love in face, but not
A thing of transient lot-

And like to hope, but having hold on truth

And like to joy or youth,

Save that upon the rock her feet were set—

And like what men forget,

Faith, innocence, high thought, laborious peace

And yet like none of these,

Being not as these are mortal, but with eyes
That sounded the deep skies

And clove like wings or arrows their clear way
Through night and dawn and day—

So fair a presence over star and sun
Stood, making these as one.

For in the shadow of her shape were all

Darkened and held in thrall,

So mightier rose she past them; and I felt

Whose form, whose likeness knelt

With covered hair and face and clasped her knees

And knew the first of these

Was Freedom, and the second Italy.

And what sad words said she

For mine own grief I knew not, nor had heart

Therewith to bear my part

And set my songs to sorrow; nor to hear

How tear by sacred tear

Fell from her eyes as flowers or notes that fall

In some slain feaster's hall

Where in mid music and melodious breath
Men singing have seen death.

So fair, so lost, so sweet she knelt ; or so
In our lost eyes below

;

Seemed to us sorrowing; and her speech being said,

Fell, as one who falls dead.

And for a little she too wept, who stood

Above the dust and blood

And thrones and troubles of the world; then spake,

As who bids dead men wake.

'Because the years were heavy on thy head;

Because dead things are dead;

Because thy chosen on hill-side, city and plain

Are shed as drops of rain;

Because all earth was black, all heaven was blind,

And we cast out of mind;

Because men wept, saying Freedom, knowing of thee, Child, that thou wast not free :

Because wherever blood was not shame was

Where thy pure foot did pass ;

Because on Promethean rocks distent

Thee fouler eagles rent;

Because a serpent stains with slime and foam

This that is not thy Rome;

Child of my womb, whose limbs were made in me,
Have I forgotten thee?

In all thy dreams through all these years on wing,
Hast thou dreamed such a thing?

The mortal mother-bird outsoars her nest,

The child outgrows the breast;

But suns as stars shall fall from heaven and cease,
Ere we twain be as these ;