"The Sons of Woden sound no tromp before 24 Their march! No herald comes their war to tell! No plea for slaughter, dress'd in clerkly lore, Makes death seem justice! As the rain-clouds swell, When air is stillest, in BAL HUAN'S halls; The herbage waves not till the tempest falls! "Of old ye know them; ye the elect remains 25 Of perish'd races--rock-saved; anchoring here The ark of empire! For your latest fanes, For your last hearths, for all to freemen dear, And to God sacred; take the shield and brand! Accurst each Cymrian who survives hisland!" "Accursed each Cymrian who survives his land!" 26 Echo'd deep tones, hollow as blasts escaped From Boreal caverns, and in every hand The hilts of swords to sainted croziers shaped Were grimly griped--as by that symbol sign Hallowing the human wrath to war divine. The Prophet mark'd the deep unclamorous vow 27 Of the pent passion; and the morning light Of young Humanity flash'd o'er the brow Dark with that wisdom which, like Nature's night, Communes with stars and dreams; it flash'd and waned, And the vast front its awful hush regain'd. "Princes, I am but as a voice; be you 28 As deeds! The wind comes through the hollow oak, And stirs the green woods that it wanders through, Now wafts the seeds, now wings the levin-stroke, Now kindles, now destroys:--that Wind am I, Homeless on earth; the mystery of the sky! "But when the wind in noiseless air hath sunk, 29 Behold the sower tends and rears the seeds; Behold the woodman shapes the fallen trunk; The viewless voice hath waked the human deeds; Born of the germs, flowers bloom and harvests spring; The pine uprooted speeds the Ocean King. "Warriors, since absent (not from wanton lust 30 Of errant emprize, but by Fate ordain'd, For all lone labouring, worthy of his trust) He whose young lips in thirst of glory drain'd All that of arts Mavortian elder Rome Taught, to assail the foe, or guard the home; "Be ye his delegates, and oft with prayer 31 Bring angels round his wild and venturous way; As one great orb gives life and light to air, So times there are when all a people's day Shines from a single life! This known, revere The exile; mourn not--let his soul be here. "Yours then, high chiefs, the conduct of the war, 32 But heed this counsel (won or wrung from Fate), Strong rolls the tide when curb'd its channels are, Strong flows a force that but defends a state; In Carduel's walls concentre Cymri's power, And chain the Dragon to this charmed tower.