Page:Poems - Tennyson (1843) - Volume 1 of 2.djvu/58

 So many minds did gird their orbs with beams, Though one did fling the fire. Heaven flow'd upon the soul in many dreams Of high desire.

Thus truth was multiplied on truth, the world Like one great garden show'd, And thro' the wreaths of floating dark upcurl'd. Rare sunrise flow'd.

And Freedom rear'd in that august sunrise Her beautiful bold brow, When rites and forms before his burning eyes Melted like snow.

There was no blood upon her maiden robes Sunn'd by those orient skies; But round about the circles of the globes Of her keen eyes