Page:The Vespers of Palermo.pdf/52



(turning away.) There is no path but one For noble natures.

Wouldst thou ask the man Who to the earth hath dash'd a nation's chains, Rent as with heaven's own lightning, by what means The glorious end was won?—Go, swell th' acclaim! Bid the deliverer, hail! and if his path To that most bright and sovereign destiny Hath led o'er trampled thousands, be it call'd A stern necessity, and not a crime!

Father! my soul yet kindles at the thought Of nobler lessons, in my boyhood learn'd Ev'n from thy voice.—The high remembrances Of other days are stirring in the heart Where thou didst plant them; and they speak of men Who needed no vain sophistry to gild Acts, that would bear heaven's light.—And such be mine! Oh, father! is it yet too late to draw The praise and blessing of all valiant hearts On our most righteous cause?

What wouldst thou do?

I would go forth, and rouse th' indignant land To generous combat. Why should freedom strike Mantled with darkness?—Is there not more strength E'en in the waving of her single arm Than hosts can wield against her?—I would rouse That spirit, whose fire doth press resistless on To its proud sphere, the stormy field of fight!