40. 
To see, like some vast island from the Ocean,
The Altar of the Federation rear
Its pile i’ the midst; a work, which the devotion
Of millions in one night created there,
Sudden as when the moonrise makes appear 2075
Strange clouds in the east; a marble pyramid
Distinct with steps:  that mighty shape did wear
The light of genius; its still shadow hid
Far ships:  to know its height the morning mists forbid!

41. 
To hear the restless multitudes for ever 2080
Around the base of that great Altar flow,
As on some mountain-islet burst and shiver
Atlantic waves; and solemnly and slow
As the wind bore that tumult to and fro,
To feel the dreamlike music, which did swim 2085
Like beams through floating clouds on waves below
Falling in pauses, from that Altar dim,
As silver-sounding tongues breathed an aerial hymn.

42. 
To hear, to see, to live, was on that morn
Lethean joy! so that all those assembled 2090
Cast off their memories of the past outworn;
Two only bosoms with their own life trembled,
And mine was one,—­and we had both dissembled;
So with a beating heart I went, and one,
Who having much, covets yet more, resembled; 2095
A lost and dear possession, which not won,
He walks in lonely gloom beneath the noonday sun.

43. 
To the great Pyramid I came:  its stair
With female choirs was thronged:  the loveliest
Among the free, grouped with its sculptures rare; 2100
As I approached, the morning’s golden mist,
Which now the wonder-stricken breezes kissed
With their cold lips, fled, and the summit shone
Like Athos seen from Samothracia, dressed
In earliest light, by vintagers, and one 2105
Sate there, a female Shape upon an ivory throne: 

44. 
A Form most like the imagined habitant
Of silver exhalations sprung from dawn,
By winds which feed on sunrise woven, to enchant
The faiths of men:  all mortal eyes were drawn, 2110
As famished mariners through strange seas gone
Gaze on a burning watch-tower, by the light
Of those divinest lineaments—­alone
With thoughts which none could share, from that fair sight
I turned in sickness, for a veil shrouded her countenance bright. 2115

45. 
And neither did I hear the acclamations,
Which from brief silence bursting, filled the air
With her strange name and mine, from all the nations
Which we, they said, in strength had gathered there
From the sleep of bondage; nor the vision fair 2120
Of that bright pageantry beheld,—­but blind
And silent, as a breathing corpse did fare,
Leaning upon my friend, till like a wind
To fevered cheeks, a voice flowed o’er my troubled mind.