23.

Like the wind’s own on her divided sea
  His song arose on Corinth, and aloud
Recalled her Isthmian song and strife when she
  Was thronged with glories as with gods in crowd
And as the wind’s own spirit her breath was free
  And as the heaven’s own heart her soul was proud,
But freer and prouder stood no son than he
  Of all she bare before her heart was bowed;
      None higher than he who heard
      Medea’s keen last word
  Transpierce her traitor, and like a rushing cloud
      That sundering shows a star
      Saw pass her thunderous car
  And a face whiter and deadlier than a shroud
    That lightened from it, and the brand
Of tender blood that falling seared his suppliant hand.

24.

More fair than all things born and slain of fate,
  More glorious than all births of days and nights,
He bade the spirit of man regenerate,
  Rekindling, rise and reassume the rights
That in high seasons of his old estate
  Clothed him and armed with majesties and mights
Heroic, when the times and hearts were great
  And in the depths of ages rose the heights
      Radiant of high deeds done
      And souls that matched the sun
  For splendour with the lightnings of their lights
      Whence even their uttered names
      Burn like the strong twin flames
  Of song that shakes a throne and steel that smites;
    As on Thermopylae when shone
Leonidas, on Syracuse Timoleon.

25.

Or, sweeter than the breathless buds when spring
  With smiles and tears and kisses bids them breathe,
Fell with its music from his quiring string
  Fragrance of pine-leaves and odorous heath
Twined round the lute whereto he sighed to sing
  Of the oak that screened and showed its maid beneath,
Who seeing her bee crawl back with broken wing
  Faded, a fairer flower than all her wreath,
      And paler, though her oak
      Stood scathless of the stroke
  More sharp than edge of axe or wolfish teeth,
      That mixed with mortals dead
      Her own half heavenly head
  And life incorporate with a sylvan sheath,
    And left the wild rose and the dove
A secret place and sacred from all guests but Love.

26.

But in the sweet clear fields beyond the river
  Dividing pain from peace and man from shade
He saw the wings that there no longer quiver
  Sink of the hours whose parting footfalls fade
On ears which hear the rustling amaranth shiver
  With sweeter sound of wind than ever made
Music on earth:  departing, they deliver
  The soul that shame or wrath or sorrow swayed;
      And round the king of men
      Clash the clear arms again,
  Clear of all soil and bright as laurel braid,
      That rang less high for joy
      Through the gates fallen of Troy
  Than here to hail the sacrificial maid,
    Iphigeneia, when the ford
Fast-flowing of sorrows brought her father and their lord.