Page:Songs of the Springtides - Swinburne (1880).pdf/28

 Even from the labouring womb Even to the seal set on the unopening tomb? And these the loving light of song and love Shall wrap and lap round and impend above, Imperishable; and all springs born illume Their sleep with brighter thoughts than wake the dove To music, when the hillside winds resume The marriage-song of heather-flower and broom And all the joy thereof.

And hate the song too taught him: hate of all That brings or holds in thrall Of spirit or flesh, free-born ere God began, The holy body and sacred soul of man. And wheresoever a curse was or a chain, A throne for torment or a crown for bane Rose, moulded out of poor men's molten pain,