4

Many brought gifts to take For her love's supreme sake, Life and life's love, pleasure and praise and rest, And went forth bare; but thou, So much once richer, and now Poorer than all these, more than these be blest; Poorer so much, by so much given, Than who gives earth for heaven's sake, not for earth's sake heaven.

5

Somewhat could each soul save, What thing soever it gave, But thine, mother, what has thy soul kept back?

None of thine all, not one, To serve thee and be thy son, Feed with love all thy days, lest one day lack; All thy whole life's love, thine heart's whole, Thou hast given as who gives gladly, O thou the supreme soul.

6

The heart's pure flesh and blood, The heaven thy motherhood, The live lips, the live eyes, that lived on thee; The hands that clove with sweet Blind clutch to thine, the feet That felt on earth their first way to thy knee; The little laughter of mouths milk-fed, Now open again to feed on dust among the dead;

7

The fair, strong, young men's strength, Light of life-days and length, And glory of earth seen under and stars above, And years that bring to tame Now the wild falcon fame, Now, to stroke smooth, the dove-white breast of love; The life unlived, the unsown seeds, Suns unbeholden, songs unsung, and undone deeds.

8

Therefore shall man's love be As an own son to thee, And the world's worship of thee for a child; All thine own land as one New-born, a nursing son, All thine own people a new birth undefiled; And all the unborn Italian time, And all its glory, and all its works, thy seed sublime.

9

That henceforth no man's breath, Saying "Italy," but saith In that most sovereign word thine equal name; Nor can one speak of thee But he saith "Italy,"

Seeing in two suns one co-eternal flame; One heat, one heaven, one heart, one fire, One light, one love, one benediction, one desire.

10

Blest above praise and prayer And incense of men's air, Thy place is higher than where such voices rise As in men's temples make Music for some vain sake, This G.o.d's or that G.o.d's, in one weary wise; Thee the soul silent, the shut heart, The locked lips of the spirit praise thee that thou art.

11

Yea, for man's whole life's length, And with man's whole soul's strength, We praise thee, O holy, and bless thee, O mother of lights; And send forth as on wings The world's heart's thanksgivings, Song-birds to sing thy days through and thy nights; And wrap thee around and arch thee above With the air of benediction and the heaven of love.

12

And toward thee our unbreathed words Fly speechless, winged as birds, As the Indian flock, children of Paradise, The winged things without feet, Fed with G.o.d's dew for meat, That live in the air and light of the utter skies; So fleet, so flying a footless flight, With wings for feet love seeks thee, to partake thy sight.

13

Love like a clear sky spread Bends over thy loved head, As a new heaven bends over a new-born earth, When the old night's womb is great With young stars pa.s.sionate And fair new planets fiery-fresh from birth; And moon-white here, there hot like Mars, Souls that are worlds shine on thee, spirits that are stars.

14

Till the whole sky burns through With heaven's own heart-deep hue, With pa.s.sion-coloured glories of lit souls; And thine above all names Writ highest with lettering flames Lightens, and all the old starriest aureoles And all the old holiest memories wane, And the old names of love's chosen, found in thy sight vain.

15

And crowned heads are discrowned, And stars sink without sound, And love's self for thy love's sake waxes pale Seeing from his storied skies In what new reverent wise Thee Rome's most highest, her sovereign daughters, hail; Thee Portia, thee Veturia grey, Thee Arria, thee Cornelia, Roman more than they.

16

Even all these as all we Subdue themselves to thee, Bow their heads haloed, quench their fiery fame; Seen through dim years divine, Their faint lights feminine Sink, then spring up rekindled from thy flame; Fade, then reflower and reillume From thy fresh spring their wintering age with new-blown bloom.

17

To thy much holier head Even theirs, the holy and dead, Bow themselves each one from her heavenward height; Each in her shining turn, All tremble toward thee and yearn To melt in thine their consummated light; Till from day's Capitolian dome One glory of many glories lighten upon Rome.

18

Hush thyself, song, and cease, Close, lips, and hold your peace; What help hast thou, what part have ye herein?

But you, with sweet shut eyes, Heart-hidden memories, Dreams and dumb thoughts that keep what things have been Silent, and pure of all words said, Praise without song the living, without dirge the dead.

19

Thou, strengthless in these things, Song, fold thy feebler wings, And as a pilgrim go forth girt and shod, And where the new graves are, And where the sunset star, To the pure spirit of man that men call G.o.d, To the high soul of things, that is Made of men's heavenlier hopes and mightier memories;

20

To the elements that make For the soul's living sake This raiment of dead things, of shadow and trance, That give us chance and time Wherein to aspire and climb And set our life's work higher than time or chance The old sacred elements, that give The breath of life to days that die, to deeds that live;

21

To them, veiled G.o.ds and great, There bow thee and dedicate The speechless spirit in these thy weak words hidden; And mix thy reverent breath With holier air of death, At the high feast of sorrow a guest unbidden, Till with divine triumphal tears Thou fill men's eyes who listen with a heart that hears.

THE LITANY OF NATIONS

[Greek text which cannot be reproduced] AESCH. Supp. 890.

CHORUS

If with voice of words or prayers thy sons may reach thee, We thy latter sons, the men thine after-birth, We the children of thy grey-grown age, O Earth, O our mother everlasting, we beseech thee, By the sealed and secret ages of thy life; By the darkness wherein grew thy sacred forces; By the songs of stars thy sisters in their courses; By thine own song hoa.r.s.e and hollow and shrill with strife; By thy voice distuned and marred of modulation; By the discord of thy measure's march with theirs; By the beauties of thy bosom, and the cares; By thy glory of growth, and splendour of thy station; By the shame of men thy children, and the pride; By the pale-cheeked hope that sleeps and weeps and pa.s.ses, As the grey dew from the morning mountain-gra.s.ses; By the white-lipped sightless memories that abide; By the silence and the sound of many sorrows; By the joys that leapt up living and fell dead; By the veil that hides thy hands and b.r.e.a.s.t.s and head, Wrought of divers-coloured days and nights and morrows; Isis, thou that knowest of G.o.d what worlds are worth, Thou the ghost of G.o.d, the mother uncreated, Soul for whom the floating forceless ages waited As our forceless fancies wait on thee, O Earth; Thou the body and soul, the father-G.o.d and mother, If at all it move thee, knowing of all things done Here where evil things and good things are not one, But their faces are as fire against each other; By thy morning and thine evening, night and day; By the first white light that stirs and strives and hovers As a bird above the brood her bosom covers, By the sweet last star that takes the westward way; By the night whose feet are shod with snow or thunder, Fledged with plumes of storm, or soundless as the dew; By the vesture bound of many-folded blue Round her breathless b.r.e.a.s.t.s, and all the woven wonder; By the golden-growing eastern stream of sea; By the sounds of sunrise moving in the mountains; By the forces of the floods and unsealed fountains; Thou that badest man be born, bid man be free.

GREECE

I am she that made thee lovely with my beauty From north to south: Mine, the fairest lips, took first the fire of duty From thine own mouth.

Mine, the fairest eyes, sought first thy laws and knew them Truths undefiled; Mine, the fairest hands, took freedom first into them, A weanling child.

By my light, now he lies sleeping, seen above him Where none sees other; By my dead that loved and living men that love him; (Cho.) Hear us, O mother.

ITALY

I am she that was the light of thee enkindled When Greece grew dim; She whose life grew up with man's free life, and dwindled With wane of him.

She that once by sword and once by word imperial Struck bright thy gloom; And a third time, casting off these years funereal, Shall burst thy tomb.

By that bond 'twixt thee and me whereat affrighted Thy tyrants fear us; By that hope and this remembrance reunited; (Cho.) O mother, hear us.

SPAIN