Page:Poetical sketches reprint (1868).djvu/99

swords assume! The trembling sinews of old age must work the work of death against their progeny; for Tyranny hath stretched his purple arm, and "Blood," he cries: "The chariots and the horses, the noise of shout, and dreadful thunder of the battle heard afar!" Beware, O proud! thou shalt be humbled; thy cruel brow, thine iron heart is smitten, though lingering Fate is slow. O yet may Albion smile again, and stretch her peaceful arms, and raise her golden head, exultingly! Her citizens shall throng about her gates, her mariners shall sing upon the sea, and myriads shall to her temples crowd! Her sons shall joy as in the morning! Her daughters sing as to the rising year!