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I love thee most in dwarfs ! A mortal of
Had no power presented me The possibility of change, I would Have done the best which spirit may, to make Its way, with all deformity's dull, deadly, Discouraging weight upon me, like a mountain, In feeling, on my heart as on my shouldersA hateful and unsightly mole-hill to The eyes of happier man. I would have look'd On beauty in that sex which is the type Of all we know or dream of beautiful Beyond the world they brighten, with a sighNot of love, but despair; nor sought to win, Though to a heart all love, what could not love me In turn, because of this vile crooked clog, Which makes me lonely. Nay, I could have borne It all, had not my mother spurn'd me from her. The she-bear licks her cubs into a sort
Of shape-mv dam beheld my shape was hopeless.
Had she exposed me, like the Spartan, ere
What you have been, or will be.
I have done so. You have open'd brighter prospects to my eyes, And sweeter to my heart. As I am now,
I might be fear'd, admired, respected, loved,
From the red earth, like Adam,'
Thy likeness I shape,
Till the rose in his cheek
Be his long, flowing hair,
As thou wavest in air!
I tear from the rock!
The lily-root surest,
And drank the best dew! Let his limbs be the lightest Which clay can compound! And his aspect the brightest On earth to be found! Elements, near me,
Be mingled and stirr'd, Know me and hear me,
And leap to my word! Sunbeams, awaken
This earth's animation! "T is done! He hath taken
the shape of Achilles, which rises from the ground, while the phantom has disappeared,
Do as thou wilt.
part by part, as the figure was formed from STRANGER (to the late form of ARNOLD, extended on the earth.
Clay! not dead, but soulless!
Though no man would choose thee,
An immortal no less
Deigns not to refuse thee.
Clay thou art and unto spirit
Fire! without which nought can live;
Burning in a quenchless lot:
Fire! the only element
Where nor fish, beast, bird, nor worm,
But must with thyself be blent:
Fire! man's safeguard and his slaughter. Fire! creation's first-born daughter,
And destruction's threaten'd son, When Heaven with the world hath done Fire! assist me to renew
Life in what lies in my view
To horse! to horse! my coal-black steed
More knows whom he must bear!
Nor pause at the brook's side to drink;
In the combat he 'll not faint;
On the stones he will not stumble,
Time nor toil shall make him humble:
In the stall he will not stiffen,
But be winged as a griffin,
And will not such a voyage be sweet?
Shall our bonny black horses skim over the ground!
And where is that which is so? From the star
The stars, goes out. The poor worn winds its way
'Tis no rebellion.
And when it prospers
Will it prosper now?
The Bourbon hath given orders for the assault, And by the dawn there will be work.
Alas! And shall the city yield? I see the giant Abode of the true God, and his true saint, Saint Peter, rear its dome and cross into That sky whence Christ ascended from the cross, Which his blood made a badge of glory and Of joy (as once of torture unto him,
God and God's son, man's sole and only refuge).
'Tis there, and shall be.
Above, and many altar shrines below,
And those scarce mortal arches, Pile above pile of everlasting wall, The theatre where emperors and their subjects (Those subjects Romans) stood at gaze upon The battles of the monarchs of the wild And wood, the lion and his tusky rebels Of the then untamed desert, brought to joust In the arena (as right well they might, When they had left no human foe unconquer'd), Made even the forest pay its tribute of Life to their amphitheatre, as well As Dacia men to die the eternal death For a sole instant's pastime, and "Pass on To a new gladiator!"-Must it fall?