XIX.

All still,--youth, courage, strength!--a winter laid, A chain of palsy cast, on might and mind! Still, as at noon a southern forest’s shade, They stood, those breathless masses of mankind, Still, as a frozen torrent! But the wave Soon leaps to foaming freedom; they, the brave, Endured--they saw the martyr’s place assign’d In the red flames--whence is the withering spell That numbs each human pulse? They saw, and thought it well.