Page:Prometheus bound - Browning (1833).djvu/184

 Ye have stretch'd your hands abroad With the Spirit's sheathless sword: Ye have spoken—and the tone To earth's extremest verge hath gone: East and west sublime it rolls, Echoed by a million souls! The wheels of rapid circling years, Erst hot with crime, are quench'd in tears. Rocky hearts wild waters pour, That were chain'd in stone before: Bloody hands, that only bare Hilted sword, are clasp'd in prayer: Savage tongues, that wont to fling Shout of war in deathly ring, Speak the name which angels sing. Dying lips are lit the while With a most undying smile, Which reposing there, instead Of language, when the lips are dead,