To break the mould, the master may, If skilled the hand and ripe the hour; But woe, when on its fiery way The metal seeks itself to pour. Frantic and blind, with thunder-knell, Exploding from its shattered home, And glaring forth, as from a hell, Behold the red Destruction come! When rages strength that has no reason, _There_ breaks the mould before the season; When numbers burst what bound before, Woe to the State that thrives no more! Yea, woe, when in the City's heart, The latent spark to flame is blown; And Millions from their silence start, To claim, without a guide, their own! Discordant howls the warning Bell, Proclaiming discord wide and far, And, born but things of peace to tell, Becomes the ghastliest voice of war: "Freedom! Equality!"--to blood, Rush the roused people at the sound! Through street, hall, palace, roars the flood, And banded murder closes round! The hyæna-shapes, that women were! Jest with the horrors they survey; They hound--they rend--they mangle there-- As panthers with their prey! Nought rests to hallow--burst the ties Of life's sublime and reverent awe; Before the Vice the Virtue flies, And Universal Crime is Law! Man fears the lion's kingly tread; Man fears the tiger's fangs of terror; And still the dreadliest of the dread, Is Man himself in error! No torch, though lit from Heaven, illumes The Blind!--Why place it in his hand? It lights not him--it but consumes The City and the Land! * * * * * Rejoice and laud the prospering skies! The kernel bursts its husk--behold From the dull clay the metal rise, Clear shining, as a star of gold! Neck and lip, but as one beam, It laughs like a sun-beam. And even the scutcheon, clear graven, shall tell That the art of a master has fashion'd the Bell!