Of an invader? is it they, or ye,

That to each host the mountain-gate unbar,
And leave the march in peace, the passage free ?
Why, Nature's self detains the victor's car,
And makes your land impregnable, if earth
Could be so; but alone she will not war,
Yet aids the warrior worthy of his birth

In a soil where the mothers bring forth men :
Not so with those whose souls are little worth;
For them no fortress can avail,—the den

Of the poor reptile which preserves its sting
Is more secure than walls of adamant, when
The hearts of those within are quivering.

Are ye not brave? Yes, yet the Ausonian soil
Hath hearts, and hands, and arms, and hosts to

bring

Against Oppression; but how vain the toil,

While still Division sows the seeds of woe
And weakness, till the stranger reaps the spoil!
Oh! my own beauteous land! so long laid low,
So long the grave of thy own children's hopes,
When there is but required a single blow
To break the chain, yet-yet the Avenger stops,

And Doubt and Discord step 'twixt thine and thee,
And join their strength to that which with thee

copes;

What is there wanting then to set thee free,
And show thy beauty in its fullest light?
To make the Alps impassable; and we,
Her sons, may do this with one deed

Unite.

From THE SAME.-CANTO IV.

WITHIN the ages which before me pass
Art shall resume and equal even the sway
Which with Apelles and old Phidias
She held in Hellas' unforgotten day.

Ye shall be taught by Ruin to revive
The Grecian forms at least from their decay,
And Roman souls at last again shall live

In Roman works wrought by Italian hands,
And temples, loftier than the old temples, give
New wonders to the world; and while still stands
The austere Pantheon, into heaven shall soar
A dome, its image, while the base expands
Into a fane surpassing all before,

Such as all flesh shall flock to kneel in ne'er Such sight hath been unfolded by a door As this, to which all nations shall repair

And lay their sins at this huge gate of heaven. And the bold Architect unto whose care

G

The daring charge to raise it shall be given,

Whom all hearts shall acknowledge as their lord,
Whether into the marble chaos driven

His chisel bid the Hebrew, at whose word
Israel left Egypt, stop the waves in stone,
Or hues of Hell be by his pencil pour'd
Over the damn'd before the Judgment-throne,
Such as I saw them, such as all shall see,
Or fanes be built of grandeur yet unknown,

The stream of his great thoughts shall spring from me,
The Ghibelline, who traversed the three realms
Which form the empire of eternity.

Amidst the clash of swords, and clang of helms,
The age which I anticipate, no less

Shall be the Age of Beauty, and while whelms,
Calamity the nations with distress,

The genius of my country shall arise, A Cedar towering o'er the Wilderness, Lovely in all its branches to all eyes,

Fragrant as fair, and recognised afar, Wafting its native incense through the skies. Sovereigns shall pause amidst their sport of war, Wean'd for an hour from blood, to turn and gaze

On canvas or on stone; and they who mar

All beauty upon earth, compell'd to praise,

Shall feel the power of that which they destroy;

And Art's mistaken gratitude shall raise
To tyrants who but take her for a toy,
Emblems and monuments, and prostitute
Her charms to pontiffs proud, who but employ
The man of genius as the meanest brute
To bear a burthen, and to serve a need,
To sell his labours, and his soul to boot.
Who toils for nations may be poor indeed,

But free; who sweats for monarchs is no more

Than the gilt chamberlain, who, clothed and fee'd, Stands sleek and slavish, bowing at his door.

2

SAINT PETER sat by the celestial gate:
His keys were rusty, and the lock was dull,
So little trouble had been given of late;
Not that the place by any means was full,
But since the Gallic era eighty-eight"

The devils had ta'en a longer, stronger pull, And "a pull altogether," as they say At sea-which drew most souls another way.

The angels all were singing out of tune,

And hoarse with having little else to do, Excepting to wind up the sun and moon,

Or curb a runaway young star or two, Or wild colt of a comet, which too soon

Broke out of bounds o'er th' ethereal blue, Splitting some planet with its playful tail, As boats are sometimes by a wanton whale.