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And we know that they will not be lured to earth
Though they sat with us by the night-fire's blaze,
And heard the tales of our father's days,
But tell us, thou bird of the solemn strain,
-Do they love-do they love us yet?
Doth the warrior think of his brother there,
And the chief of those that were wont to share
We call them far through the silent night,
I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers,
I bear light shade for the leaves when laid
From my wings are shaken the dews that waken
When rocked to rest on their mother's breast,
I wield the flail of lashing hail,
And whiten the green plains under,
While I sleep in the arms of the blast. Sublime on the towers of my skiey bowers, Lightning my pilot sits;
In a cavern under, is fettered the thunder,
Over earth and ocean, with gentle motion,
Lured by the love of the genii that move
Wherever he dream, under mountain or stream,
And I all the while bask in heaven's blue smile,
The sanguine sunrise, with his meteor eyes,
When the morning star shines dead.
Which an earthquake rocks and swings,
An eagle alit one moment may sit
In the light of its golden wings.
And when sunset may breathe, from the lit sea beneath,
And the crimson pall of eve may
That orbed maiden with white fire laden,
Glides glimmering o'er my fleece-like floor,
May have broken the woof of
my tent's thin roof,
When I widen the rent in my wind-built tent,
I bind the sun's throne with a burning zone,
The volcanos are dim, and the stars reel and swim,
Over a torrent sea,
Sunbeam proof, I hang like a roof,
The mountains its columns be.
When the powers of the air are chained to my chair,
The sphere-fire above its soft colours wove,
I am the daughter of earth and water,
pass through the pores of the ocean and shores; I change, but I cannot die.
For after the rain when with never a stain
The pavilion of heaven is hare,
And the winds and the sunbeams with their convex gleams Build up the blue dome of air,
I silently laugh at my own cenotaph,
And out of the caverns of rain,
Like a child from the womb, like a ghost from the tomb, I arise and unbuild it again.
SUPPOSED TO BE SPOKEN BY A DYING SON.
Weep not for me, mother! because I must die,