Seeking to fly from thee, Here in the world-life Hides him the gloomy monk In Theban deserts. O soul that wanderest Far from the straight way, Satan is merciful.-- See Heloisa! In vain you wear yourself Thin in rough gown; I Still murmur the verses Of Maro and Flaccus Amid the Davidic Psalming and wailing, And--Delphic figures Close at thy side-- Rosy, amid the dark Cowls of the friars, Enters Licorida, Enters Glicera. Then other images Of days more fair Come to dwell with thee In thy secret cell. Lo! from the pages of Livy, the Tribunes All ardent, the Consuls, The crowds tumultuous, Awake; and the fantastic Pride of Italians Drives them, O Monk, Up to the Capitol; And you whom the flaming Fire never melted, Conjuring voices, Wickliffe and Huss, Send to the broad breeze The cry of the watchman:-- "The age renews itself; Full is the time." Already tremble The mitres and crowns. Forth from the cloister Moves the rebellion. Under his stole, see, Fighting and preaching, Brother Girolamo Savonarola. Off goes the tunic Of Martin Luther; Off go the fetters That bound human thought. It flashes and lightens, Girdled with flame; Matter, exalt thyself; Satan has won! A fair and terrible Monster unchained Courses the ocean, Courses the earth. Flashing and smoking, Like the volcanoes, he Climbs over mountains, Ravages plains, Skims the abysses; Then he is lost In unknown caverns And ways profound, Till lo! unconquered, From shore to shore, Like to the whirlwind, He sends forth his cry. Like to the whirlwind Spreading his wings,... He passes, O people, Satan the great! Hail to thee, Satan; Hail the rebellion! Hail, of the reason the Great Vindicator! Sacred to thee shall rise Incense and vows. Thou hast the god Of the priest disenthroned! TO AURORA From the 'Odi Barbare' Thou risest and kissest, O Goddess, with thy rosy breath, the clouds, Kissest the dusky pinnacles of marble temples. The forests feel thee, and with a cool shiver awake; Up soars the falcon, flashing in eager joy. Meanwhile amid the wet leaves mutter the garrulous nests, And far off the gray gull screams over the purple sea. First to delight in thee, down in the laborious plain, Are the streams which glisten amid the rustling poplars. Daringly the sorrel colt breaks away from his feeding, Runs to the brooks with high-lifted mane, neighing in the wind. Wakeful answer from the huts the great pack of the hounds, And the whole valley is filled with the noisy sound of their barking. But the man whom thou awakest to life-consuming labor, He, O ancient Youth, O Youth eternal, Still thoughtful admires thee, even as on the mountain The Aryan Fathers adored thee, standing amid their white oxen.