XX.

They triumphed, and less bloody rites were kept
Within the quiet of the convent cell;
The well-fed inmates pattered prayer, and slept,
And sinned, and liked their easy penance well.
Where pleasant was the spot for men to dwell,
Amid its fair broad lands the abbey lay,

Sheltering dark orgies that were shame to tell,

And cowled and barefoot beggars swarmed the way, All in their convent weeds, of black, and white, and gray.

XXI.

Oh, sweetly the returning muses' strain

Swelled over that famed stream, whose gentle tide
In their bright lap the Etrurian vales detain,

Sweet, as when winter storms have ceased to chide,
And all the new-leaved woods, resounding wide,

Send out wild hymns upon the scented air.

Lo! to the smiling Arno's classic side

The emulous nations of the west repair,

And kindle their quenched urns, and drink fresh spirit there

XXII.

Still, Heaven deferred the hour ordained to rend

From saintly rottenness the sacred stole ;

And cowl and worshipped shrine could still defend

The wretch with felon stains upon his soul;

n

And crimes were set to sale, and hard his dole
Who could not bribe a passage to the skies;
And vice, beneath the mitre's kind control,
Sinned gaily on, and grew to giant size,

Shielded by priestly power, and watched by priestly eyes.

XXIII.

At last the earthquake came—the shock, that hurled
To dust, in many fragments dashed and strown,
The throne, whose roots were in another world,
And whose far-stretching shadow awed our own.
› From many a proud monastic pile, o'erthrown,
Fear-struck, the hooded inmates rushed and fled;
The web, that for a thousand years had grown
O'er prostrate Europe, in that day of dread
Crumbled and fell, as fire dissolves the flaxen thread.

XXIV.

The spirit of that day is still awake,

And spreads himself, and shall not sleep again; But through the idle mesh of power shall break Like billows o'er the Asian monarch's chain; Till men are filled with him, and feel how vain, Instead of the pure heart and innocent hands, Are all the proud and pompous modes to gain The smile of heaven ;-till a new age expands Its white and holy wings above the peaceful lands.

XXV.

For look again on the past years ;-behold,

How like the nightmare's dreams have flown away
Horrible forms of worship, that, of old,

Held, o'er the shuddering realms, unquestioned sway:
See crimes, that feared not once the eye of day,
Rooted from men, without a name or place:

See nations blotted out from earth, to pay

The forfeit of deep guilt;—with glad embrace The fair disburdened lands welcome a nobler race.

XXVI.

Thus error's monstrous shapes from earth are driven;
They fade, they fly—but truth survives their flight;
Earth has no shades to quench that beam of heaven;
Each ray that shone, in early time, to light
The faltering footsteps in the path of right,
Each gleam of clearer brightness shed to aid
In man's maturer day his bolder sight,

All blended, like the rainbow's radiant braid,

Pour yet, and still shall pour, the blaze that cannot fade.

XXVII.

Late, from this western shore, that morning chased
The deep and ancient night, that threw its shroud
O'er the green land of groves, the beautiful waste,
Nurse of full streams, and lifter-up of proud

Sky-mingling mountains that o'erlook the cloud. Erewhile, where yon gay spires their brightness rear, Trees waved, and the brown hunter's shouts were loud Amid the forest; and the bounding deer

Fled at the glancing plume, and the gaunt wolf yelled near

XXVIII.

And where his willing waves yon bright blue bay

Sends up, to kiss his decorated brim,

And cradles, in his soft embrace, the gay
Young group of grassy islands born of him,
And crowding nigh, or in the distance dim,
Lifts the white throng of sails, that bear or bring
The commerce of the world;—with tawny limb,
And belt and beads in sunlight glistening,
The savage urged his skiff like wild bird on the wing.

XXIX.

Then all this youthful paradise around,
And all the broad and boundless mainland, lay
Cooled by the interminable wood, that frowned
O'er mount and vale, where never summer ray
Glanced, till the strong tornado broke his way
Through the gray giants of the sylvan wild;
Yet many a sheltered glade, with blossoms gay,
Beneath the showery sky and sunshine mild,

Within the shaggy arms of that dark forest smiled.

XXX.

There stood the Indian hamlet, there the lake Spread its blue sheet that flashed with many an oar, Where the brown otter plunged him from the brake, And the deer drank: as the light gale flew o'er, The twinkling maize-field rustled on the shore; And while that spot, so wild, and lone, and fair, A look of glad and guiltless beauty wore, And peace was on the earth and in the air, The warrior lit the pile, and bound his captive there:

XXXI.

Not unavenged-the foeman, from the wood, Beheld the deed, and when the midnight shade Was stillest, gorged his battle-axe with blood; All died-the wailing babe-the shrieking maidAnd in the flood of fire that scathed the glade, The roofs went down ; but deep the silence grew, When on the dewy woods the day-beam played; No more the cabin smokes rose wreathed and blue, And ever, by their lake, lay moored the light canoe.

XXXII.

Look now abroad-another race has filled

These populous borders-wide the wood recedes, And towns shoot up, and fertile realms are tilled: The land is full of harvests and green meads;