Page:Prometheus Bound, and other poems.djvu/173



HEARD last night a little child go singing
 * 'Neath Casa Guidi windows, by the church,

"O bella libertà, O bella!" stringing
 * The same words still on notes he went in search

So high for, you concluded the upspringing
 * Of such a nimble bird to sky from perch

Must leave the whole bush in a tremble green;
 * And that the heart of Italy must beat,

While such a voice had leave to rise serene
 * Twixt church and palace of a Florence street!—

A little child, too, who not long had been
 * By mother's finger steadied on his feet;

And still O bella libertà he sang.

Then I thought, musing, of the innumerous
 * Sweet songs which for this Italy outrang

From older singers' lips, who sang not thus
 * Exultingly and purely, yet, with pang

Sheathed into music, touched the heart of us