37. 
And I, still gazing on that glorious child,
Even as these thoughts flushed o’er her:—­’Cythna sweet,
Well with the world art thou unreconciled;
Never will peace and human nature meet
Till free and equal man and woman greet 995
Domestic peace; and ere this power can make
In human hearts its calm and holy seat,
This slavery must be broken’—­as I spake,
From Cythna’s eyes a light of exultation brake.

38. 
She replied earnestly:—­’It shall be mine, 1000
This task,—­mine, Laon!—­thou hast much to gain;
Nor wilt thou at poor Cythna’s pride repine,
If she should lead a happy female train
To meet thee over the rejoicing plain,
When myriads at thy call shall throng around 1005
The Golden City.’—­Then the child did strain
My arm upon her tremulous heart, and wound
Her own about my neck, till some reply she found.

39. 
I smiled, and spake not.—­’Wherefore dost thou smile
At what I say?  Laon, I am not weak, 1010
And, though my cheek might become pale the while,
With thee, if thou desirest, will I seek
Through their array of banded slaves to wreak
Ruin upon the tyrants.  I had thought
It was more hard to turn my unpractised cheek 1015
To scorn and shame, and this beloved spot
And thee, O dearest friend, to leave and murmur not.

40. 
’Whence came I what I am?  Thou, Laon, knowest
How a young child should thus undaunted be;
Methinks, it is a power which thou bestowest, 1020
Through which I seek, by most resembling thee,
So to become most good and great and free;
Yet far beyond this Ocean’s utmost roar,
In towers and huts are many like to me,
Who, could they see thine eyes, or feel such lore 1025
As I have learnt from them, like me would fear no more.

41. 
’Think’st thou that I shall speak unskilfully,
And none will heed me?  I remember now,
How once, a slave in tortures doomed to die,
Was saved, because in accents sweet and low 1030
He sung a song his Judge loved long ago,
As he was led to death.—­All shall relent
Who hear me—­tears, as mine have flowed, shall flow,
Hearts beat as mine now beats, with such intent
As renovates the world; a will omnipotent! 1035

42. 
’Yes, I will tread Pride’s golden palaces,
Through Penury’s roofless huts and squalid cells
Will I descend, where’er in abjectness
Woman with some vile slave her tyrant dwells,
There with the music of thine own sweet spells 1040
Will disenchant the captives, and will pour
For the despairing, from the crystal wells
Of thy deep spirit, reason’s mighty lore,
And power shall then abound, and hope arise once more.