Five years beyond an hundred years have seen

Their winters, white as faith's and age's hue,

Melt, smiling through brief tears that broke between,

And hope's young conquering colours reared anew,

Since, on the day whose edge for kings made keen

Smote sharper once than ever storm-wind blew,

A head predestined for the girdling green

That laughs at lightning all the seasons through,

Nor frost or change can sunder

Its crown untouched of thunder

Leaf from least leaf of all its leaves that grew

Alone for brows too bold

For storm to sear of old,

Elect to shine in time's eternal view,

Rose on the verge of radiant life

Between the winds and sunbeams mingling love with strife.

2.

The darkling day that gave its bloodred birth

To Milton's white republic undefiled

That might endure so few fleet years on earth

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