16. 
Our armies through the City’s hundred gates 1855
Were poured, like brooks which to the rocky lair
Of some deep lake, whose silence them awaits,
Throng from the mountains when the storms are there
And, as we passed through the calm sunny air
A thousand flower-inwoven crowns were shed, 1860
The token flowers of truth and freedom fair,
And fairest hands bound them on many a head,
Those angels of love’s heaven that over all was spread.

17. 
I trod as one tranced in some rapturous vision: 
Those bloody bands so lately reconciled, 1865
Were, ever as they went, by the contrition
Of anger turned to love, from ill beguiled,
And every one on them more gently smiled,
Because they had done evil:—­the sweet awe
Of such mild looks made their own hearts grow mild, 1870
And did with soft attraction ever draw
Their spirits to the love of freedom’s equal law.

18. 
And they, and all, in one loud symphony
My name with Liberty commingling, lifted,
’The friend and the preserver of the free! 1875
The parent of this joy!’ and fair eyes gifted
With feelings, caught from one who had uplifted
The light of a great spirit, round me shone;
And all the shapes of this grand scenery shifted
Like restless clouds before the steadfast sun,—­ 1880
Where was that Maid?  I asked, but it was known of none.

19. 
Laone was the name her love had chosen,
For she was nameless, and her birth none knew: 
Where was Laone now?—­The words were frozen
Within my lips with fear; but to subdue 1885
Such dreadful hope, to my great task was due,
And when at length one brought reply, that she
To-morrow would appear, I then withdrew
To judge what need for that great throng might be,
For now the stars came thick over the twilight sea. 1890

20. 
Yet need was none for rest or food to care,
Even though that multitude was passing great,
Since each one for the other did prepare
All kindly succour—­Therefore to the gate
Of the Imperial House, now desolate, 1895
I passed, and there was found aghast, alone,
The fallen Tyrant!—­Silently he sate
Upon the footstool of his golden throne,
Which, starred with sunny gems, in its own lustre shone.

21. 
Alone, but for one child, who led before him 1900
A graceful dance:  the only living thing
Of all the crowd, which thither to adore him
Flocked yesterday, who solace sought to bring
In his abandonment!—­She knew the King
Had praised her dance of yore, and now she wove 1905
Its circles, aye weeping and murmuring
Mid her sad task of unregarded love,
That to no smiles it might his speechless sadness move.