When the heavens were sealed with a stone, and the terrible sun closed
     in an orb, and the moon
  Rent from the nations, and each star appointed for watchers of night,
  The millions of spirits immortal were bound in the ruins of sulphur
     heaven
  To wander enslaved; black, depressed in dark ignorance, kept in awe with
     the whip
  To worship terrors, bred from the blood of revenge and breath of desire
  In bestial forms, or more terrible men; till the dawn of our peaceful
     morning,
  Till dawn, till morning, till the breaking of clouds, and swelling of
     winds, and the universal voice;
  Till man raise his darkened limbs out of the caves of night.  His eyes
     and his heart
    Expand—­Where is Space? where, O sun, is thy dwelling? where thy tent,
     O faint slumbrous Moon? 
  Then the valleys of France shall cry to the soldier:  “Throw down thy
     sword and musket,
  And run and embrace the meek peasant.”  Her nobles shall hear and shall
     weep, and put off
  The red robe of terror, the crown of oppression, the shoes of contempt,
     and unbuckle
  The girdle of war from the desolate earth.  Then the Priest in his
     thunderous cloud
  Shall weep, bending to earth, embracing the valleys, and putting his
     hand to the plough,
  Shall say, “No more I curse thee; but now I will bless thee:  no more in
     deadly black
  Devour thy labour; nor lift up a cloud in thy heavens, O laborious
     plough;
  That the wild raging millions, that wander in forests, and howl in
     law-blasted wastes,
  Strength maddened with slavery, honesty bound in the dens of
     superstition,
  May sing in the village, and shout in the harvest, and woo in pleasant
     gardens
  Their once savage loves, now beaming with knowledge, with gentle awe
     adorned;
  And the saw, and the hammer, the chisel, the pencil, the pen, and the
     instruments
  Of heavenly song sound in the wilds once forbidden, to teach the
     laborious ploughman
  And shepherd, delivered from clouds of war, from pestilence, from
     night-fear, from murder,
  From falling, from stifling, from hunger, from cold, from slander,
     discontent, and sloth,
  That walk in beasts and birds of night, driven back by the sandy desert,
  Like pestilent fogs round cities of men; and the happy earth sing in its
     course,
  The mild peaceable nations be opened to heaven, and men walk with their
     fathers in bliss.” 
  Then hear the first voice of the morning:  “Depart, O clouds of night,
     and no more
  Return; be withdrawn cloudy war, troops of warriors depart, nor around
     our peaceable city
  Breathe fires; but ten miles from Paris let all be peace, nor a soldier
     be seen!"’

From A SONG OF LIBERTY

The Eternal Female groaned!  It was heard over all the earth.