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Palpitated, her hand shook, and we heard

Without you, with you, whole; and of those halves In the dead hush the papers that she held

You worthiest ; and howe'er you block and bar Rustle: at once the lost lamb at her feet

Your heart with system out from mine, I hold Sent out a bitter bleating for its dam;

That it becomes no man to nurse despair, The plaintive cry jarr'd on her ire; she crush'd But in the teeth of clench'd antagonisms The scrolls together, made a sudden turn

To follow up the worthiest till he die : As if to speak, but, utterance failing her,

Yet that I came not all unauthorized She whirld them on to me, as who should say Behold your father's letter." "Read," and I read-two letters-one her sire's.

On one knee

Kneeling, I gave it, which she caught, and dash'd "Fair daughter, when we sent the Prince your way Unopen'd at her feet: a tide of fierce We knew not your ungracious laws, which learnt, Invective seem'd to wait behind her lips, We, conscious of what temper you are built,

As waits a river level with the dam Came all in haste to hinder wrong, but fell

Ready to burst and flood the world with foam; Into his father's hands, who has this night,

And so she would have spoken, but there rose You lying close upon his territory,

A hubbub in the court of half the maids Slipt round and in the dark invested you,

Gather'd together: from the illumined hall And here he keeps me hostage for his son." Long lanes of splendor slanted o'er a press

of suowy shoulders, thick as herded ewes, The second was my father's, running thus: And rainbow robes, and gems and gem-like eyes, "You have our son: touch not a hair of his head: And gold and golden heads; they to and fro Render him up unscathed: give him your hand: Fluctuated, as flowers in storm, some red, some pale, Cleave to your contract: tho' indeed we hear All open-mouth'd, all gazing to the light, You hold the woman is the better man;

Some crying there was an army in the land, A rampant heresy, such as if it spread

And some that men were in the very walls, Would make all women kick against their lords And some they cared not; till a clamor grew Thro' all the world, and which might well deserve As of a new-world Babel, woman-built, That we this night should pluck your palace down; And worse confounded: high above them stood And we will do it, unless you send us back

The placid marble Muses, looking peace. Our son, on the instant, whole.”

So far I read ; Not peace she look'd, the Head: but rising up And then stood up and spoke impetuously.

Robed in the long night of her deep hair, so

To the open window moved, remaining there "O not to pry and peer on your reserve,

Fixt like a beacon-tower above the waves But led by golden wishes, and a hope

of tempest, when the crimson-rolling eye The child of regal compact, did I break

Glares ruin, and the wild birds on the light Your precinct; not a scorner of your sex

Dash themselves dead. She stretch'd her arms and But venerator, zealous it should be

call'd All that it might be; hear me, for I bear,

Across the tumult and the tumult fell.
Tho' man, yet human, whatsoe'er your wrongs,
From the flaxen curl to the gray lock a life

"What fear ye brawlers ? am not I your Head : Less mine than yours: my purse would tell me of On me, me, me, the storm first breaks: I dare you:

All these male thunderbolts: what is it ye fear? I babbled for you, as babies for the moon,

Peace! there are those to avenge us and they come: Vague brightness ; when a boy, you stoop'd to me If not, -myself were like enough, 0 girls, From all high places, lived in all fair lights, To unfurl the maiden banner of our rights, Came in long breezes rapt from inmost south And clad in iron burst the ranks of war, And blown to inmost north ; at eve and dawn Or, falling, protomartyr of our cause, With Ida, Ida, Ida, rang the woods ;

Die: yet I blame ye not so much for fear; The leader wildswan in among the stars

Six thousand years of fear have made ye that Would clang it, and lapt in wreaths of glow-worm From which I would redeem ye : but for those light

That stir this hubbub-you and you-I know The mellow breaker murmur'd Ida. Now,

Your faces there in the crowd-to-morrow morn Because I would have reach'd you, had you been We hold a great convention: then shall they Sphered up with Cassiopeia, or the enthroned That love their voices more than duty, learn Persephone in Hades, now at length,

With whom they deal, dismiss'd in shame to live Those winters of abeyance all worn out,

No wiser than their mothers, household stuff, A man I came to see you: bat, indeed,

Live chattels, mincers of each other's fame, Not in this frequence can I lend full tongus, Full of weak poison, turnspits for the clown, O noble Ida, to those thoughts that wait

The drunkard's football, laughing-stocks of Time, On you, their centre: let me say but this,

Whose brains are in their hands and in their heels. That many a famous man and woman, town But fit to flaunt, to dress, to dance, to thrum, And landskip, have I heard of, after seen

To tramp, to scream, to burnish, and to scour, The dwarfs of prestige; thu' when known, there grew Forever slaves at nome and fools abroad." Another kind of beauty in detail Made them worth knowing; but in you I found She, ending, waved her hands: thereat the crowd My boyish dream involved and dazzled down Muttering dissolved: then with a smile, that look it And master'd, while that after-beauty makes A stroke of cruel sunshine on the cliff, Snch head from act to act, from hour to hour, When all the glens are drown'd in azure gloom Within me, that except you slay me here,

Of thunder-shower, she floated to us and said : According to your bitter statute-book, I can not cease to follow yon, as they say

"You have done well and like a gentleman, The seal does music; who desire you more

And like a prince: you have our thanks for all: Than growing boys their manhood; dying lips, And you look well too in your woman's dress : With many thousand matters left to do,

Well have you done and like a gentleman. The breath of life; 0 more than poor men wealth, You saved our life: we owe you bitter thanks : Tban sick men health-yours, yours, not mine-but Better have died and spilt our bones in the floodhalf

Then men had said-but now-What hinders me

To take such bloody vengeance on you both ?- “ The second two: they wait," he said, "pass on: Yet since our father-Wasps in our good hive, His Highness wakes :" and one, that clash'd in arms, You would-be quenchers of the light to be,

By glimmering lanes and walls of canvas, led
Barbarians, grosser than your native bears- Threading the soldier-city, till we heard
O vould I had his sceptre for one hour !

The drowsy folds of our great ensign shake
You that have dared to break our bound, and guli'd From blazon'd lions o'er the imperial tent
Our servants, wrong'd and lied and thwarted us- Whispers of war.
I wed with thee! I bound by precontract

Entering, the sudden light
Your bride, your bondslave! not tho' all the gold Dazed me half-blind : I stood and seem'd to hear,
That veins the world were pack'd to make your As in a poplar grove when a light wind wakes
crown,

A lisping of the innumerous leaf and dies, And every spoken tongue should lord you. Sir, Each hissing in his neighbor's ear; and then Your falsehood and yourself are hateful to us: A strangled titter, out of which there brake I trample on your offers and on you:

On all sides, clamoring etignette to death, Begone: we will not look upon you more.

Unmeasured mirth; while now the two old kings Here, push them out at gates."

Began to wag their baldness up and down,

In wrath she spake. The fresh young captains flash'd their glittering teeth Then those eight mighty daughters of the plough The huge bush-bearded Barons heaved and blew, Bent their broad faces toward us and address'd And slain with laughter roll'd the gilded Squire. Their motion : twice I sought to plead my cause, At length my Sire, his rough cheek wet with tears, But on my shoulder hung their heavy hands, Panted from weary sides, “King, you are free! The weight of destiny: so from her face

We did but keep you surety for our son, They prish'd us, down the steps, and thro' the court, If this be he,-or a draggled mawkin, thou, And with grim laughter thrust us out at gates. That tends her bristled grunters in the sludge:"

For I was drench'd with ooze, and torn with briers, We cross'd the street and gain'd a petty mound More crumpled thau a poppy from the sheath, Beyond it, whence we saw the lights and heard

And all one rag, disprinced from head to heel. The voices murmuring. While I listen'd, came

Then some one sent beneath his vaulted palm On a sudden the weird seizure and the doubt:

A whisper'd jest to some one near him “Look, I seem'd to move among a world of ghosts; He has been among his shadows.” “Satan take The Princess with her monstrous woman-guard, The old women and their shadows! (thus the King The jest and earnest working side by side,

Roar'd) make yourself a man to fight with men. The cataract and the tumult and the kings

Go: Cyril told us all." Were shadows; and the long fantastic night

As boys that slink With all its doings had and had not been,

From ferale and the trespass-chiding eye,
And all things were and were not.

Away we stole, and transient in a trice
This went by

From what was left of faded woman-slough
As strangely as it came, and on my spirits

To sheathing splendors and the golden scalo Settled a gentle cloud of melaurholy;

Or harness, issued in the sun, that now Not long; I shook it off'; for spite of doubts

Leapt from the dewy shoulders of the Earth, And sudden ghostly shadowings I was one

And hit the porthern hills. Here Cyril met na, To whom the touch of all mischance but came

A little shy at first, but by and by As night to him that sitting on a hill

We twain, with mutual pardon ask'd and given Sees the midsummer, midnight, Norway son For stroke and song, resolder'd peace, whereon Set into sunrise: then we moved away.

Follow'd his tale. Amazed he fled away

Thro' the dark land, and later in the night Thy voice is heard thro' rolling drums,

Hod come on Psyche weeping: “then we fel! That beat to battle where he stands;

Into your father's hand, and there she lies, Thy face across his fancy comes,

But will not speak, nor stir." And gives the battle to his hands :

He show'd a tent A moment, while the trumpets blow,

A stone-shot off: we enter'd in, and there He sees his brod about thy knee ;

Among piled arms and rough accoutrements,
The next, like fire he meets the foe,

Pitiful sight, wrapt in a soldier's cloak,
And strikes him dead for thine and thee. Like some sweet sculpture draped from head to foot,

And push'd by rnde hands from its pedestal,
So Lilia sang: we thought her half-possessid, All her fair length upon the ground sho lay:
She struck such warbling fury thro' the words; And at her head a follower of the camp,
And, after, feigning pique at what she call'd A charr'd and wrinkled piece of womanhood,
The raillery, or grotesque, or false sublime-

Sat watching like a watcher by the dead. Like one that wishes at a dance to change The music-clapt her hands and cried for war, Then Florian knelt, and "Come," he whisper'd to Or some grand fight to kill and make an end :

her, And he that next inherited the tale

"Lift up your head, sweet sister : lie not thus. Half turning to the broken statue said,

What have you done, but right? you could not slay “Sir Ralph has got your colors: if I prove

Me, nor your prince: look op: be comforted : Your knight, and fight your battle, what for me?" Sweet is it to have done the thing one ought, It chanced, her empty glove upon the tomb

When fall'n in darker ways.” And likewise I: Lay by her like a model of her hand.

“Be comforted : have I not lost her too, She took it and she flung it. “Fight,” she said, In whose least act abides the nameless charm " And make us all we would be, great and good." That none has else for me?” She heard, she moved, He knightlike in his cap instead of casque,

She moan'd, a folded voice; and up she sat, A cap of Tyrol borrow'd from the hall,

And raised the cloak from brows as pale and smooth Arranged the favor, and assumed the Prince. As those that mourn half-shrouded over death

In deathless marble. “Her," she said, “my friendV.

Parted from her–betray'd her cause and mineNow, scarce three paces measured from the mound, Where shall I breathe? why kept ye not your faith! We stumbled on a stationary voice,

O base and bad ! what comfort ? none for me!" And “Stand, who goes !" "Two from the palace,” I. i To whom remorseful Cyril, “ Yet I pray

!

Take comfort: live, dear lady, for your child !" The sleek and shining creatures of the chase, At which she lifted up her voice and cried. We bunt them for the beauty of their skins;

They love us for it, and we ride them down. "Ah me, my babe, my blossom, ah my child, Wheedling and siding with them! Out! for shame! My one sweet child, whom I shall see no more Boy, there's no rose that's half so dear to them For now will cruel Ida keep her back;

As he that does the thing they dare not do, And either she will die for want of care,

Breathing and sounding beauteous battle, comes Or sicken with ill usage, when they say

With the air of the trumpet round him, and leaps in The child is hers-for every little fault,

Among the women, snares them by the score
The child is hers; and they will beat my girl Flatter'd and Auster'd, wins, though dash'd with deait,
Remembering her mother: O my flower!

He reddens what he kisses: thus I won
Or they will take her, they wili make her hard, Your mother, a good mother, a good wife,
And she will pass me hy in after-life

Worth winning; but this firebrand-gentleness
With some cold reverence worse than were she dead. To such as her! if Cyril spake her trne,
IIl mother that I was to leave her there,

To catch a dragon in a cherry net, To lag behind, scared by the cry they made, To trip a tigress with a gossamer, The horror of the shame among them all:

Were wisdom to it." But I will go and sit beside the doors,

“Yea, bnt Sire," I cried, And make a wild petition night and day,

“ Wild patures need wise curbs. The soldier? No: Until they hate to hear me like a wind

What dares not Ida do that she should prize Wailing forever, till they open to me,

The soldier? I beheld her, when she rose And lay my little blossom at my feet,

The yester-night, and storming in extremes My babe, my sweet Aglaia, my one child:

Stood for her cause, and flung defiauce down And I will take her up and go my way,

Gagelike to man, and had not shunu'd the death, And satisfy my soul with kissing her :

No, no: the soldier's: yet I hold her, king,
Ah! what might that man not deserve of me, True woman: but you clash them all in one,
Who gave me back my child ?” “Be comforted," That have as inany differences as we.
Said Cyril, "you shal: have it," but again

The violet varies from the lily as far
She veil'd her brows, and prone she sank, and so As oak from elm: one loves the soldier, one
Like tender things that being caught feiga death, The silken priest of peace, one this, one that,
Spoke not, nor stirr'd.

And some nnworthily; their sinless faith, By this a murmur ran A maiden moon that sparkles on a sty, Thro' all the camp and inward raced the scouts Glorifying clown and satyr; whence they need With rumor of Prince Arac hard at band.

More breadth of culture: is not Ida right? We left her by the woman, and without

They worth it? truer to the law within ! Found the gray kings at parle: and “Look you," Severer in the logic of a life? cried

Twice as magnetic to sweet influences My father, " that our compact be fulfill'd

Of earth and heaven? and she of whom yon speaza You have spoilt this child; she laughs at you and My mother, looks as whole as some serene man:

Creation minted in the golden moods She wrongs herself, her sex, and me, and him: Of sovereign artists ; not a thought, a touch, But red-faced war has rods of steel and tire; Bnt pure as lines of green that streak the white She yields, or war."

of the first snowdrop's inner leaves; I say, Then Gama turn'd to me: Not like the piebald miscellany, man, "We fear, indeed, you spent a stormy time

Bursts of great heart and slips in sensual mire, With our strange girl: and yet they say that still But whole and one: and take them all-in-all, You love her. Give us, then, your mind at large: Were we ourselves but half as good, as kind, How say you, war or not?"

As truthful, much that Ida claims as right

“Not war, if possible, Had ne'er been mooted, but as frankly theirs O king," I said, “Jest from the abuse of war, As dues of Nature. To our point: not war: The desecrated shrine, the trampled year,

Least I lose all." The smouldering homestead, and the household flower

“Nay, nay, you spake but sense,' Torn from the lintel-all the common wrong- Said Gama. “We remember love ourselves A smoke go up thro' which I loom to her

In our sweet youth; we did not rate him then Three times a monster: now she lightens scorn This red-hot iron to be shaped with blows. At him that mars her plan, but then would hate You talk almost like Ida: she can talk ; (And every voice she talk'd with ratify it,

And there is something in it as you say: And every face she look'd on justify it)

But you taik kindlier: we esteem you for it.The general foe. More soluble is this knot, He seems a gracious and a gallant Prince, By gentleness than war. I want her love.

I would he had our daughter: for the rest, What were I nigher this altho' we dash'd

Our own detention, why the causes weigh'd,
Your cities into shards with catapults,

Fatherly fears—you used us courteously-
She wonld not love;-or brought her cha'n'd, a slave, W: would do much to gre tify your Prince -
The listing of whose eyelash is my lord,

We pardon it; and for your ingress here
Not ever would she love; but brooding turn Upon the skirt and fringe of our fair land,
The book of scorn till all my little chance

You did bnt come as goblins in the night, Were caught within the record of her wrongs, Nor in the furrow broke the plonghman's head, And crush'd to death: and rather, Sire, than this Nor burnt the grange, nor buss'd the milkingmail, I would the old god of war himself were dead, Nor robb'd the farmer of his bowl of cream: Forgotten, rnsting on his iron hills,

But let yonr Prince (our royal word upon it, Rotting on some wild shore with ribs of wreck, He comes back safe) ride with us to our lines, Or like an old-world mammoth bulk'd in ice, And speak with Arac: Arac's word is thrice Not to be molten out."

As ours with Ida: something may be done-
And roughly spake

I know not what-and ours shall see us friends. My father, “Tut, you know them not, the girls. Yon, likewise, our late guests, if so you will, 3oy, when I hear you prate I almost think

Follow us: who knows? we four may build some That idiot legend credible. Look you, Sir!

plan Yan is the hunter: woman is his game:

Foursquare to opposition."

Here he reach'd

A taunt that clench'd his purpose like a blow! White hands of farewell to my sire, who growl'd For tiery-short was Cyril's counter-scoff, An answer which, half-muffled in his beard,

And sharp I answer'd, touch'd upon the point Let so much out as gave us leave to go.

Where idle boys are cowards to their shame,

“Decide it here: why not? we are three to three." Then rode we with the old king across the lawns Beneath huge trees, a thousand rings of Spring Then spake the third, “But three to three ! 19 In every bole, a song on every spray

more!
or birds that piped their Valentines, and woke No more, and in our noble sister's cause !
Desire in me to infuse my tale of love

More, more, for honor: every captain waits
In the old king's ears, who promised help, and oozed Hungry for honor, angry for his king.
All o'er with honey'd answer as we rode;

More, more, some tifty on a side, that each
And blossom-fragrant slipt the heavy dews

May breathe himself, and quick! by overthrow Gather'd by night and peace, with each light air of these or those, the question settled die." On our mail'd heads : but other thoughts than Peace Burnt in us, when we saw the embaitled squares, “Yea," answer'd I, "for this wild wreath of air, And squadrons of the Prince, trampling the flowers This flake of rainbow flying on the highest With clamor: for among them rose a cry

Foam of men's deeds—this honor, if ye will. As if to greet the king : they made a halt;

It needs must be for honor if at all: The horses yell'd; they clash'd their arms; the drum Since, what decision ? if we fail, we fail, Beat; merrily-blowing shrill'd the martial tire ; And if we win, we fail: she would not keep And in the blast and bray of the long horn ller compact.” “'Sdeath! but we will send to her," And serpent-throated bugle, undulated

Said Arac, “worthy reasons why she should The banner: añon to mect as lightly pranced Bide by this issue: let our missive thro', Three captains out; nor ever had I seen

And you shall have her answer by the word.' Such thews of men: the midmost and the highest Was Arac: all about his motion clung

“Boys !" shriek'd the old king, but vainlier than The shadow of his sister, as the beam

a hen of the East, that play'd upon them, made them glance To her false daughters in the pool; for none Like those three stars of the airy Giant's zone, Regarded; neither seem'd there more to say: That glitter burnish'd by the frosty dark;

Back rode we to my father's camp, and found And as the fiery Sirius alters hue,

He thrice had sent a herald to the gates, And bickers into red and emerald, shone

To learn if Ida yet would cede our claim, Their morions, wash'd with morning, as they came. Or by denial flush her babbling wells

With her own people's life: three times he went: And I that prated peace, when first I heard The first, he blew and blew, but none appear'd: War-music, felt the blind wild beast of force, He batter'd at the doors; nove came: the next, Whose home is in the sinews of a man,

An awful voice within had warn'd him thence: Stir in me as to strike: then took the king The third, and those eight daughters of the plough His three broad sons; with now a wandering hand Came sallying thro' the gates, and caught his hair, And now a pointed finger, told them all:

And so belabor'd him on rib and cheek A common light of smiles at our disguise

They made him wild: not less one glance he caught Broke from their lips, and, ere the windy jest Thro' open doors of Ida station'd there Had labor'd down within his ample lungs,

Unshaken, clinging to her purpose, firm Tbe genial giant, Arac, rolld himself

Tho' compassid by two armies and the noise Thrice in the saddle, then burst out in words. of arms; and standing like a stately Piue

Set in a cataract on an island-crag, “Our land invaded, 'sdeath! and he himself When storm is on the heights, and right and left Your captive, yet my father wills not war:

Suck'd from the dark heart of the long hills roll And, 'sdeath I myself, what care I, war or no ? The torrents, dash'd to the vale: and yet her will But then this question of your troth remains : Bred will in me to overcome it or fall. And there 's a downright honest meaning in her; She flies too high, she flies too high! and yet

But when I told the king that I was pledged She ask'd bnt space and fairplay for her scheme: To fight in tourney for my bride, he clash'd She prest and prest it on me-I myself,

His iron palms together with a cry: What know I of these things ? but, life and soul! Himself would tilt it out among the lads : I thought her half-right talking of her wrongs: But overborne by all his bearded lords I say she flies too high, 'sdeath! what of that? With reasons drawn from age and state, perforce I take her for the flower of womankind,

He yielded, wroth and red, with fierce demur: And so I often told her, right or wrong,

Aud many a bold kuight started up in heat, And, Prince, she can be sweet to those she loves, And sware to combat for my claim till death. And, right or wrong, I care not: this is all, I stand upon her side: she made me swear it- All on this side the palace ran the field 'Sdeath,-and with solemn rites by candlelight- Flat to the garden wall: and likewise here, Swear by St. something-I forget her name- Above the garden's glowing blossom-belts, Her that talk'd down the fifty wisest men:

A column'd entry shone and marble stairs, She was a princess too; and so I swore.

And great bronze valves, emboss'd with Tomyris Come, this is all; she will not: waive your claim, And what she did to Cyrus after fight, If not, the foughten field, what else, at once But now fast barr'd: so here npon the flat Decides it, 'sdeath! against my father's will.” All that long morn the lists were hammer'd up,

And all that morn the heralds to and fro, I lagg'd in answer loath to render up

With message and detiance, went and came; My precontract, and loath by brainless war

Last, Ida's answer, in a royal hand, To cleave the rift of difference deeper yet;

But shaken here and there, and rolling words Till one of those two brothers, half aside

Oration-like. I kiss'd it and I read.
And fingering at the hair about his lip,
To prick us on to combat “Like to like!

"O brother, you have known the pangs we felt The woman's garment bid the woman's heart." What heats of indignation when we heard

Of those that iron-cramp'd their women's feet; All else confusion. Look you! the gray mare or lands in which at the altar the poor bride Is ill to live with, when her whinny shrills Gives her harsh groom for bridal-gift a scourge; From tile to scullery, and her small goodman of living hearts that crack within the fire

Shrinks in his arm-chair while the tires of Hell Where smoulder their dead despots; and of those, - Mix with his hearth: but you—she's yet a coltMothers,—that, all prophetic pity, fling

Take, break her: strongly groom'd and straitly curb'd Their pretty maids in the running flood, and swoops She might not rank with those detestable The vulture, beak and talon, at the heart

That let the bantling scald at home, and brawl Made for all noble motion: and I saw

Their rights or wrongs like potherbs in the street. That equal baseness lived in sleeker times

They say she's comely; there's the fairer chance : With smoother meu: the old leaven leaven'd all: I like her nonc the less for rating at her! Millions of throats would bawl for civil rights, Besides, the woman wed is not as we, No woman named: therefore I set my face

But suffers change of frame. A lusty brace Against all men, and lived but for mine own. Oi twins may weed her of her folly. Boy, Far oft from men I built a fold for them:

The bearing and the training of a child I stored it full of rich memorial :

Is woman's wisdom." I fenced it round with gallant institutes,

Thus the hard old king:
And biting laws to scare the beasts of prey, I took my leave, for it was nearly noon:
And prosper'd; till a rout of saucy boys

I pored upon her letter which I held,
Brake on us at our books, and marr'd our peace, And on the little clause "take not his life:"
Mask'd like our maids, blustering I know not what I mused on that wild morning in the woods,
of insolence and love, some pretext held

And on the "Follow, follow, thou shalt win :" Of baby troth, invalid, since my will

I thought on all the wrathful king had said, Seal'd not the bond—the striplings!—for their sport!- And how the strange betrothment was to end: I tamed my leopards: shall I not tame these ? Then I remember'd that burnt sorcerer's curse Or you? or I? for since you think me touch'd That one should fight with shadows and should fall; In honor-what, I would not anght of false

And like a flash the weird affection came: Is not our cause pure ? and whereas I know King, camp and college turn'd to hollow shows; Your prowess, Arac, and what mother's blood I seem'd to move in old memorial tilts, You draw from, fight; you failing, I abide

And doing battle with forgotten ghosts, What end soever: fail you will not. Still

To dream myself the shadow of a dream: Take not his life: he risk'd it for my own;

And ere I woke it was the point of noon, His mother lives : yet whatsoe'er you do,

The lists were ready. Empanoplied and plumed Fight and fight well; strike and strike home. O dear We enter'd in, and waited, tisty there Brothers, the woman's Angel guards you, you Opposed to tisty, till the trumpet blared The sole men to be mingled with our cause,

At the barrier like a wild horn in a land The sole men we shall prize in the after-time, Of echoes, and a moment, and once more Your very armor hallow'd, and your statues

The trumpet, and again : at which the storm Rear'd, sung to, when this gad-tly brush'd aside, Of galloping hoofs bare on the ridge of spears We plant a solid foot into the Time,

And riders front to front, until they closed And mould a generation strong to move

In conflict with the crash of shivering points, With claim on claim from right to right, till she

And thunder. Yet it seem'd a dream; I dream'd Whose name is yoked with children's, know herself; of fighting. On his haunches rose the steed, And Kuowledge in onr own land make her free, And into fiery splinters leapt the lance, And, ever following those two crowned twins, And out of stricken helmets sprang the fire. Commerce and conquest, shower the fiery grain

A noble dream! what was it else I saw ? of freedom broadcast over all that orbs

Part sat like rocks : part reel'd but kept their scats. Between the Northern and the Southern morn." Part rolled on the earth and rose again and drew :

Part stumbled mixt with floundering horses. Down

Froin those two bulks at Arac's side, and down Then came a postcript dash'd across the rest.

From Arac's arm, as from a giant's flail, " See that there be no traitors in your camp:

The large blows rain'd, as here and everywhere We seem a nest of traitors-none to trust:

He rode the mellay, lord of the ringing lists, Since our arms fail'd-this Egypt plague of men !

And ail the plain-brand, mace, and shaft, and Almost our maids were better at their homes,

shieldThan thus man-girdled here: indeed I think

Shock'd, like an iron-clanging anvil bang'd Our chiefest comfort is the little child

With hammers; till I thought, can this be he Of one unworthy mother; which she left:

From Gama's dwarfish loins ? if this be so, She shall not have it back: the child shall grow

The mother makes us most-and in my dream To prize the authentic mother of her mind.

I glanced aside, and saw the palace-front I took it for an hour in mine own bed

Alive with fluttering scarfs and ladies' eyes,
This morning: there the tender orphan hands

And highest, among the statues, statue-like,
Felt at my heart, and seem'd to charm from thence Between a cymbal'd Miriam and a Jael,
The wrath I nursed against the world : farewell."

With Psyche's babe, was Ida watching us,

A single band of gold about her hair,
I ceased; he said: "Stubborn, but she may sit Like a Saint's glory up in heaven: but she
l'pon a king's right hand in thunder-storms, No saint-inexorable-no tenderness-
And breed up warriors! See now, tho' yourself Too hard, too cruel : yet she sees me fight,
Be dazzled by the wildfire Love to slonghs

Yca, let her sec me fall! with that I drave
That swallow common sense, the spindling king, Among the thickest and bore down a Prince,
This Gama swamp'd in lazy tolerance.

And Cyril, one. Yea, let me make my dream When the man wants weight, the woman takes it up, All that I would. But that large-moulded man, And topples down the scales; but this is fixt His visage all agrin as at a wake, As are the roots of earth and base of all;

Made at me thro' the press, and, staggering back Man for the field and woman for the hearth; With stroke on stroke the horse and horseman, came Man for the sword and for the needle she:

As comes a pillar of electric cloud,
Man with the head and woman with the heart: Flaying the roofs and sucking up the drains,
Man to command and woman to obey ·

And shadowing down the champaign till it strikes

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