With blood and green with palms and white

With raiment woven of deeds divine and words of light.

20.

The thunder-fire of Cromwell, and the ray

That keeps the place of Phocion's name serene

And clears the cloud from Kosciusko's day,

Alternate as dark hours with bright between,

Met in the heaven of his high thought, which lay

For all stars open that all eyes had seen

Rise on the night or twilight of the way

Where feet of human hopes and fears had been.

Again the sovereign word

On Milton's lips was heard

Living: again the tender three days' queen

Drew bright and gentle breath

On the sharp edge of death:

And, staged again to show of mortal scene,

Tiberius, ere his name grew dire,

Wept, stainless yet of empire, tears of blood and fire.

21.

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