Page:The complete poetical works of Percy Bysshe Shelley, including materials never before printed in any edition of the poems.djvu/367

xxvi.

When between her and her foes

A mist, a light, an image rose,
Small at first, and weak, and frail
Like the vapour of a vale:^[1] 105

xxvii.

Till as clouds grow on the blast.

Like tower-crowned giants striding fast,
And glare with lightnings as they fly,
And speak in thunder to the sky,

xxviii.

It grew— a Shape arrayed in mail 110

Brighter than the viper's scale,
And upborne on wings whose grain
Was as^[2] the light of sunny rain.

xxix.

On its helm, seen far away,

A planet, like the Morning's, lay; 115
And those plumes its^[3] light rained through
Like a shower of crimson clew.

xxx.

With step as soft as wind it passed

O'er the heads of men— so fast
That they knew the presence there,
And looked,—but^[4] all was empty air. 121

xxxi.

As flowers beneath May's footstep^[5] waken,

As stars from Night's loose hair are shaken,
As waves arise when loud winds call.
Thoughts sprung where'er that step did fall. 125

xxxii.

And the prostrate multitude

Looked— and ankle-deep in blood,
Hope, that maiden most serene,
Was walking with a quiet mien:

xxxiii.

And Anarchy, the ghastly birth, 130

Lay dead earth upon the earth;
The Horse of Death tameless as wind
Fled, and with his hoofs did grind
To dust the murderers thronged behind.^[6]

xxiv.

A rushing light of clouds and splendour, 135

A sense awakening and yet tender
Was heard and felt— and at its close
These words of joy and fear arose

xxxv.

As if their own indignant Earth

Which gave the sons of England birth 140
Had felt their blood upon her brow,
And shuddering with a mother's throe

xxxvi.

Had turned every drop of blood

By which her face had been bedewed
To an accent unwithstood,— 145
As if her heart had cried^[7] aloud:

xxxvii.

'Men of England, heirs of Glory,

Heroes of unwritten story,
Nurslings of one mighty Mother,
Hopes of her, and one another; 150

xxxviii.

'Rise like Lions after slumber

In unvanquishable number,
Shake your chains to earth like dew
Which in sleep had fallen on you—
Ye are many— they are few.^[8] 155

xxxix.

'What is Freedom?— ye can tell

That which slavery is, too well—
For its very name has grown
To an echo of your own.

1. a vale Hunt MS., Wise MS.; the vale edd. 1832, 1839.
2. as] like edd. 1839 only.
3. its Wise MS., Hunt MS.; it edd. 1832, 1839.
4. but Wise MS.; and Hunt MS., edd. 1832, 1839.
5. May's footstep Wise MS., Hunt MS.; the footstep ed. 1832; May's footsteps edd. 1839.
6. 132-4 omit Wise MS.
7. had cried Hunt MS., edd. 1832, 1839; cried out Wise MS.
8. 155 omit ed. 1832 only.