Page:The Vespers of Palermo.pdf/51



That heaven (which loves the just) should wear a smile In honour of his fortunes.—Now, my lord, Forgive me if I say, farewell, until Th' appointed hour.

Lady, a brief farewell. [Exeunt separately.

And dost thou still refuse to share the glory Of this, our daring enterprize?

Oh, father! I too have dreamt of glory, and the word Hath to my soul been as a trumpet's voice, Making my nature sleepless.—But the deeds Whereby 't was won, the high exploits, whose tale Bids the heart burn, were of another cast Than such as thou requirest.

Every deed Hath sanctity, if bearing for its aim The freedom of our country; and the sword Alike is honour'd in the patriot's hand, Searching, midst warrior-hosts, the heart which gave Oppression birth; or flashing thro' the gloom Of the still chamber, o'er its troubled couch, At dead of night,