13. 
’"But children near their parents tremble now,
Because they must obey—­one rules another,
And as one Power rules both high and low,
So man is made the captive of his brother, 3310
And Hate is throned on high with Fear her mother,
Above the Highest—­and those fountain-cells,
Whence love yet flowed when faith had choked all other,
Are darkened—­Woman as the bond-slave dwells
Of man, a slave; and life is poisoned in its wells. 3315

14. 
’"Man seeks for gold in mines, that he may weave
A lasting chain for his own slavery;—­
In fear and restless care that he may live
He toils for others, who must ever be
The joyless thralls of like captivity; 3320
He murders, for his chiefs delight in ruin;
He builds the altar, that its idol’s fee
May be his very blood; he is pursuing—­
O, blind and willing wretch!—­his own obscure undoing.

15. 
’"Woman!—­she is his slave, she has become 3325
A thing I weep to speak—­the child of scorn,
The outcast of a desolated home;
Falsehood, and fear, and toil, like waves have worn
Channels upon her cheek, which smiles adorn,
As calm decks the false Ocean:—­well ye know 3330
What Woman is, for none of Woman born
Can choose but drain the bitter dregs of woe,
Which ever from the oppressed to the oppressors flow.

16. 
’"This need not be; ye might arise, and will
That gold should lose its power, and thrones their glory; 3335
That love, which none may bind, be free to fill
The world, like light; and evil faith, grown hoary
With crime, be quenched and die.—­Yon promontory
Even now eclipses the descending moon!—­
Dungeons and palaces are transitory—­ 3340
High temples fade like vapour—­Man alone
Remains, whose will has power when all beside is gone.

17. 
’"Let all be free and equal!—­From your hearts
I feel an echo; through my inmost frame
Like sweetest sound, seeking its mate, it darts—­ 3345
Whence come ye, friends?  Alas, I cannot name
All that I read of sorrow, toil, and shame,
On your worn faces; as in legends old
Which make immortal the disastrous fame
Of conquerors and impostors false and bold, 3350
The discord of your hearts, I in your looks behold.

18. 
’"Whence come ye, friends? from pouring human blood
Forth on the earth?  Or bring ye steel and gold,
That Kings may dupe and slay the multitude? 
Or from the famished poor, pale, weak and cold, 3355
Bear ye the earnings of their toil?  Unfold! 
Speak!  Are your hands in slaughter’s sanguine hue
Stained freshly? have your hearts in guile grown old? 
Know yourselves thus! ye shall be pure as dew,
And I will be a friend and sister unto you. 3360