And souls that matched the sun

For splendour with the lightnings of their lights

Whence even their uttered names

Burn like the strong twin flames

Of song that shakes a throne and steel that smites;

As on Thermopylæ when shone

Leonidas, on Syracuse Timoleon.

25.

Or, sweeter than the breathless buds when spring

With smiles and tears and kisses bids them breathe,

Fell with its music from his quiring string

Fragrance of pine-leaves and odorous heath

Twined round the lute whereto he sighed to sing

Of the oak that screened and showed its maid beneath,

Who seeing her bee crawl back with broken wing

Faded, a fairer flower than all her wreath,

And paler, though her oak

Stood scathless of the stroke

More sharp than edge of axe or wolfish teeth,

That mixed with mortals dead

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