AN EASTER ODE
227
Look up, ye hosts! o'er heroes when they die
Opens in heaven another climbing sky!
Sweet is your memory here, and fresh with tears
That wash from shining eyes our mortal fears.—
Peace at the last, and moods all joys above,
Calm thoughts that from just reason take their birth!
Truth at the last, and liberty, and love
Shall, like your glory, fill the ensanguined earth!
