Page:The Vespers of Palermo.pdf/25



Yet why so long, Ev'n as a stranger, hast thou cross'd my paths, One nameless and unknown?—and yet I felt Each pulse within me thrilling to thy voice.

Pro. Because I would not link thy fate with mine, Till I could hail the day-spring of that hope Which now is gathering round us.—Listen, youth! Thou hast told me of a subdued, and scorn'd, And trampled land, whose very soul is bow'd And fashion'd to her chains:—but I tell thee Of a most generous and devoted land, A land of kindling energies; a land Of glorious recollections!—proudly true To the high memory of her ancient kings, And rising, in majestic scorn, to cast Her alien bondage off!

And where is this?

Here, in our isle, our own fair Sicily! Her spirit is awake, and moving on, In its deep silence mightier, to regain Her place amongst the nations; and the hour Of that tremendous effort is at hand.

Can it be thus indeed?—Thou pour'st new life Thro' all my burning veins!—I am as one Awakening from a chill and death-like sleep To the full glorious day.

Thou shalt hear more! Thou shalt hear things which would,—which will arouse The proud, free spirits of our ancestors E'en from their marble rest. Yet mark me well!