Of peace, and liberty, and equal law,
And mild philosophy, to us the knights
And warriors of this warlike age, who rule
By the bright law of arms. The fool's grown wise--
A grievous change.

* * * * *

Hatred--
And danger--the two hands that tightest grasp
Each other--the two cords that soonest knit
A fast and stubborn tie: your true love-knot
Is nothing to it. Faugh! the supple touch
Of pliant interest, or the dust of time,
Or the pin-point of temper, loose, or not,
Or snap love's silken band. Fear and old hate,
They are sure weavers--they work for the storm,
The whirlwind, and the rocking surge; their knot
Endures till death.


RIENZI'S TRIUMPH.


Hark--the bell, the bell!
The knell of tyranny--the mighty voice,
That, to the city and the plain--to earth,
And listening heaven, proclaims the glorious tale
Of Rome reborn, and Freedom. See, the clouds
Are swept away, and the moon's boat of light