Page:Poems and ballads (IA poemsballads00swinrich).pdf/188

 She, killed with noisome air, Even she! and still so fair, Who said “Let there be freedom,” and there was Freedom; and as a lance The fiery eyes of France Touched the world’s sleep and as a sleep made pass Forth of men’s heavier ears and eyes Smitten with fire and thunder from new skies.

Are they men’s friends indeed Who watch them weep and bleed? Because thou hast loved us, shall the gods love thee? Thou, first of men and friend, Seest thou, even thou, the end? Thou knowest what hath been, knowest thou what shall be? Evils may pass and hopes endure; But fate is dim, and all the gods obscure.

O nursed in airs apart, O poet highest of heart, Hast thou seen time, who hast seen so many things? Are not the years more wise, More sad than keenest eyes, The years with soundless feet and sounding wings? Passing we hear them not, but past The clamour of them thrills us, and their blast.