"Whose lightnings tawny leap from furtive lairs, To helpless murder, while the ships go down Swirled in the crazy stound, and mariners' prayers Go up in noisome bubbles--such to them;-- Or when they tramp about the central fires, Bending the strata with aeonian tread Till steeples totter, and all ways are lost,-- Deem they of wife or child, or home or friend, Doing these things as the long years lead on Only to other years that mean no more, That cure no ill, nor make for use or proof-- Destroying ever, though to rear again." [8] I subjoin a poetic apostrophe of Mr. Blood's to freedom: "Let it ne'er be known. If in some book of the Inevitable, Dog-eared and stale, the future stands engrossed E'en as the past. There shall be news in heaven, And question in the courts thereof; and chance Shall have its fling, e'en at the [ermined] bench. * * * * * * Ah, long ago, above the Indian ocean, Where wan stars brood over the dreaming East, I saw, white, liquid, palpitant, the Cross; And faint and far came bells of Calvary As planets passed, singing that they were saved, Saved from themselves: but ever low Orion-- For hunter too was I, born of the wild, And the game flavor of the infinite Tainted me to the bone--he waved me on, On to the tangent field beyond all orbs, Where form nor order nor continuance Hath thought nor name; there unity exhales In want of confine, and the protoplasm May beat and beat, in aimless vehemence, Through vagrant spaces, homeless and unknown. * * * * * * There ends One's empire!--but so ends not all; One knows not all; my griefs at least are mine-- By me their measure, and to me their lesson; E'en I am one--(poor deuce to call the Ace!) And to the open bears my gonfalon, Mine aegis, Freedom!--Let me ne'er look back Accusing, for the withered leaves and lives The sated past hath strewn, the shears of fate, But forth to braver days. O, Liberty, Burthen of every sigh!--thou gold of gold, Beauty of the beautiful, strength of the strong! My soul for ever turns agaze for thee. There is no purpose of eternity For faith or patience; but thy buoyant torch Still lighted from the Islands of the Blest, O'erbears all present for potential heavens Which are not--ah, so more than all that are! Whose chance postpones the ennui of the skies! Be thou my genius--be my hope in thee! For this were heaven: to be, and to be free."