Volume IV Part 13 (2/2)

Just is he, Who is just for the popular due As well as the private debt.

The praise of nations ready to perish Fall on him,--crown him in view Of tyrants caught in the net, And statesmen dizzy with fear and doubt!

And though, because they are many, And he is merely one, And nations selfish and cruel Heap up the inquisitor's fuel To kill the body of high intents, And burn great deeds from their place, Till this, the greatest of any, May seem imperfectly done; Courage, whoever circ.u.mvents!

Courage, courage, whoever is base!

The soul of a high intent, be it known, Can die no more than any soul Which G.o.d keeps by Him under the throne; And this, at whatever interim, Shall live, and be consummated Into the being of deeds made whole.

Courage, courage! happy is he, Of whom (himself among the dead And silent) this word shall be said: --That he might have had the world with him, But chose to side with suffering men, And had the world against him when He came to deliver Italy.

Emperor Evermore.

THE DANCE.

I.

You remember down at Florence our Cascine, Where the people on the feast-days walk and drive, And, through the trees, long-drawn in many a green way, O'er-roofing hum and murmur like a hive, The river and the mountains look alive?

II.

You remember the piazzone there, the stand-place Of carriages a-brim with Florence Beauties, Who lean and melt to music as the band plays, Or smile and chat with someone who a-foot is, Or on horseback, in observance of male duties?

III.

'T is so pretty, in the afternoons of summer, So many gracious faces brought together!

Call it rout, or call it concert, they have come here, In the floating of the fan and of the feather, To reciprocate with beauty the fine weather.

IV.

While the flower-girls offer nosegays (because _they_ too Go with other sweets) at every carriage-door; Here, by shake of a white finger, signed away to Some next buyer, who sits buying score on score, Piling roses upon roses evermore.

V.

And last season, when the French camp had its station In the meadow-ground, things quickened and grew gayer Through the mingling of the liberating nation With this people; groups of Frenchmen everywhere, Strolling, gazing, judging lightly--”who was fair.”

VI.

Then the n.o.blest lady present took upon her To speak n.o.bly from her carriage for the rest: ”Pray these officers from France to do us honour By dancing with us straightway.” The request Was gravely apprehended as addressed.

VII.

And the men of France, bareheaded, bowing lowly, Led out each a proud signora to the s.p.a.ce Which the startled crowd had rounded for them--slowly, Just a touch of still emotion in his face, Not presuming, through the symbol, on the grace.

VIII.

There was silence in the people: some lips trembled, But none jested. Broke the music, at a glance: And the daughters of our princes, thus a.s.sembled, Stepped the measure with the gallant sons of France, Hus.h.!.+ it might have been a Ma.s.s, and not a dance.

IX.

And they danced there till the blue that overskied us Swooned with pa.s.sion, though the footing seemed sedate; And the mountains, heaving mighty hearts beside us, Sighed a rapture in a shadow, to dilate, And touch the holy stone where Dante sate.

X.

Then the sons of France, bareheaded, lowly bowing, Led the ladies back where kinsmen of the south Stood, received them; till, with burst of overflowing Feeling--husbands, brothers, Florence's male youth, Turned, and kissed the martial strangers mouth to mouth.

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