26. 
’The tyrant’s guards resistance yet maintain: 
Fearless, and fierce, and hard as beasts of blood, 1640
They stand a speck amid the peopled plain;
Carnage and ruin have been made their food
From infancy—­ill has become their good,
And for its hateful sake their will has wove
The chains which eat their hearts.  The multitude 1645
Surrounding them, with words of human love,
Seek from their own decay their stubborn minds to move.

27. 
’Over the land is felt a sudden pause,
As night and day those ruthless bands around,
The watch of love is kept:—­a trance which awes 1650
The thoughts of men with hope; as when the sound
Of whirlwind, whose fierce blasts the waves and clouds confound,
Dies suddenly, the mariner in fear
Feels silence sink upon his heart—­thus bound,
The conquerors pause, and oh! may freemen ne’er 1655
Clasp the relentless knees of Dread, the murderer!

28. 
’If blood be shed, ’tis but a change and choice
Of bonds,—­from slavery to cowardice
A wretched fall!—­Uplift thy charmed voice! 
Pour on those evil men the love that lies 1660
Hovering within those spirit-soothing eyes—­
Arise, my friend, farewell!’—­As thus he spake,
From the green earth lightly I did arise,
As one out of dim dreams that doth awake,
And looked upon the depth of that reposing lake. 1665

29. 
I saw my countenance reflected there;—­
And then my youth fell on me like a wind
Descending on still waters—­my thin hair
Was prematurely gray, my face was lined
With channels, such as suffering leaves behind, 1670
Not age; my brow was pale, but in my cheek
And lips a flush of gnawing fire did find
Their food and dwelling; though mine eyes might speak
A subtle mind and strong within a frame thus weak.

30. 
And though their lustre now was spent and faded, 1675
Yet in my hollow looks and withered mien
The likeness of a shape for which was braided
The brightest woof of genius, still was seen—­
One who, methought, had gone from the world’s scene,
And left it vacant—­’twas her lover’s face—­ 1680
It might resemble her—­it once had been
The mirror of her thoughts, and still the grace
Which her mind’s shadow cast, left there a lingering trace.

31. 
What then was I?  She slumbered with the dead. 
Glory and joy and peace, had come and gone. 1685
Doth the cloud perish, when the beams are fled
Which steeped its skirts in gold? or, dark and lone,
Doth it not through the paths of night unknown,
On outspread wings of its own wind upborne
Pour rain upon the earth?  The stars are shown, 1690
When the cold moon sharpens her silver horn
Under the sea, and make the wide night not forlorn.