The Prophecy Of Dante Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: A BCBCDCDEDEFEFGFGHGIJ IKLJLMLMNMNOOOOOOPOP OPOQOQRQRSRSTSTOTOUO UOUOVOVWVXWXYZVA2OA2 OB2OB2C2B2C2OC2OVOVV D2VE2VE2F2E2F2G2F2G2 H2G2H2I2H2I2VI2VJ2VK 2OK2OOOOL2OL2UL2UM2U M2N2I2N2ON2OYOYO2YO2 P2O2P2OPOB2OB2IB2ISI SPSUQ2PQ2VL2VR2VR2UR 2UOUOUOU O OOOOUOUS2US2OS2OIOIO IOOOOVOVT2VT2U2T2V2V U2IVIVIVIB2IB2OB2OVO VVVW2X2VX2VX2VUVOY2O Y2UY2UZ2UZ2IZ2IX2IX2 WX2WOWOA3OA3 B3A3B3OB3OOOOVOVWVWY 2WY2OY2OA3OA3UA3OX2O X2OX2UX2X2X2C3X2C3IC 3ID3ID3OD3OY2OY2VY2V X2VX2OX2O O X2OOOC3OE3IC3IVIVX2V X2OX2OJOF3UG3UX2UX2H 3X2I3J3I3E2B2E2B2OB2 OVOVA2VA2SA2SX2SX2IX 2IOIOIOIA2IY2OOOOX2O VOVVVY2VVX2P2X2OIOIV IVOVOVOVIVIVIVA2VA2O A2OX2OX2X2X2X2OX2OT2 OT2OK3OY2OY2A2Y2A2VO VSVSOSOOOOOOOIX2IB2I B2X2B2X2L3X2M3OL3OIO IVOVA2VA2X2A2X2OX2OX 2OX2Y2X2Y2X2Y2X2IX2I OIOOOOVOV E3 OOOOVOVSVSOSOIOIX2IX 2A3X2A3X2A3X2X2X2OIO IX2IX2OX2OVOVA3VA3A2 A3A2VA2VX2VX2X2X2X2I X2IOIOSOIVIVVVVVVVVV VX2VX2VX2VX2VX2OX2OO OOX2OX2X2X2OIX2ISISI SIA2IA2VA2VX2VX2OX2O VOVX2VX2Y2X2Y2OY2OVO IC3VC3IC3IVIVX2VX2IX 2IX2IX2SX2S I

Canto The First	A
	-
Once more in Man's frail world which I had left	B
So long that 'twas forgotten and I feel	C
The weight of clay again too soon bereft	B
Of the Immortal Vision which could heal	C
My earthly sorrows and to God's own skies	D
Lift me from that deep Gulf without repeal	C
Where late my ears rung with the damned cries	D
Of Souls in hopeless bale and from that place	E
Of lesser torment whence men may arise	D
Pure from the fire to join the Angelic race	E
Midst whom my own bright Beatric e blessed	F
My spirit with her light and to the base	E
Of the Eternal Triad first last best	F
Mysterious three sole infinite great God	G
Soul universal led the mortal guest	F
Unblasted by the Glory though he trod	G
From star to star to reach the almighty throne bw	H
Oh Beatrice whose sweet limbs the sod	G
So long hath pressed and the cold marble stone	I
Thou sole pure Seraph of my earliest love	J
Love so ineffable and so alone	I
That nought on earth could more my bosom move	K
And meeting thee in Heaven was but to meet	L
That without which my Soul like the arkless dove	J
Had wandered still in search of nor her feet	L
Relieved her wing till found without thy light	M
My Paradise had still been incomplete	L
Since my tenth sun gave summer to my sight	M
Thou wert my Life the Essence of my thought	N
Loved ere I knew the name of Love and bright	M
Still in these dim old eyes now overwrought	N
With the World's war and years and banishment	O
And tears for thee by other woes untaught	O
For mine is not a nature to be bent	O
By tyrannous faction and the brawling crowd	O
And though the long long conflict hath been spent	O
In vain and never more save when the cloud	O
Which overhangs the Apennine my mind's eye	P
Pierces to fancy Florence once so proud	O
Of me can I return though but to die	P
Unto my native soil they have not yet	O
Quenched the old exile's spirit stern and high	P
But the Sun though not overcast must set	O
And the night cometh I am old in days	Q
And deeds and contemplation and have met	O
Destruction face to face in all his ways	Q
The World hath left me what it found me pure	R
And if I have not gathered yet its praise	Q
I sought it not by any baser lure	R
Man wrongs and Time avenges and my name	S
May form a monument not all obscure	R
Though such was not my Ambition's end or aim	S
To add to the vain glorious list of those	T
Who dabble in the pettiness of fame	S
And make men's fickle breath the wind that blows	T
Their sail and deem it glory to be classed	O
With conquerors and Virtue's other foes	T
In bloody chronicles of ages past	O
I would have had my Florence great and free	U
Oh Florence Florence unto me thou wast	O
Like that Jerusalem which the Almighty He	U
Wept over but thou wouldst not as the bird	O
Gathers its young I would have gathered thee	U
Beneath a parent pinion hadst thou heard	O
My voice but as the adder deaf and fierce	V
Against the breast that cherished thee was stirred	O
Thy venom and my state thou didst amerce	V
And doom this body forfeit to the fire	W
Alas how bitter is his country's curse	V
To him who for that country would expire	X
But did not merit to expire by her	W
And loves her loves her even in her ire	X
The day may come when she will cease to err	Y
The day may come she would be proud to have	Z
The dust she dooms to scatter and transfer bx	V
Of him whom she denied a home the grave	A2
But this shall not be granted let my dust	O
Lie where it falls nor shall the soil which gave	A2
Me breath but in her sudden fury thrust	O
Me forth to breathe elsewhere so reassume	B2
My indignant bones because her angry gust	O
Forsooth is over and repealed her doom	B2
No she denied me what was mine my roof	C2
And shall not have what is not hers my tomb	B2
Too long her arm d wrath hath kept aloof	C2
The breast which would have bled for her the heart	O
That beat the mind that was temptation proof	C2
The man who fought toiled travelled and each part	O
Of a true citizen fulfilled and saw	V
For his reward the Guelf's ascendant art	O
Pass his destruction even into a law	V
These things are not made for forgetfulness	V
Florence shall be forgotten first too raw	D2
The wound too deep the wrong and the distress	V
Of such endurance too prolonged to make	E2
My pardon greater her injustice less	V
Though late repented yet yet for her sake	E2
I feel some fonder yearnings and for thine	F2
My own Beatric I would hardly take	E2
Vengeance upon the land which once was mine	F2
And still is hallowed by thy dust's return	G2
Which would protect the murderess like a shrine	F2
And save ten thousand foes by thy sole urn	G2
Though like old Marius from Minturn 's marsh	H2
And Carthage ruins my lone breast may burn	G2
At times with evil feelings hot and harsh	H2
And sometimes the last pangs of a vile foe	I2
Writhe in a dream before me and o'erarch	H2
My brow with hopes of triumph let them go	I2
Such are the last infirmities of those	V
Who long have suffered more than mortal woe	I2
And yet being mortal still have no repose	V
But on the pillow of Revenge Revenge	J2
Who sleeps to dream of blood and waking glows	V
With the oft baffled slakeless thirst of change	K2
When we shall mount again and they that trod	O
Be trampled on while Death and At range	K2
O'er humbled heads and severed necks Great God	O
Take these thoughts from me to thy hands I yield	O
My many wrongs and thine Almighty rod	O
Will fall on those who smote me be my Shield	O
As thou hast been in peril and in pain	L2
In turbulent cities and the tented field	O
In toil and many troubles borne in vain	L2
For Florence I appeal from her to Thee	U
Thee whom I late saw in thy loftiest reign	L2
Even in that glorious Vision which to see	U
And live was never granted until now	M2
And yet thou hast permitted this to me	U
Alas with what a weight upon my brow	M2
The sense of earth and earthly things come back	N2
Corrosive passions feelings dull and low	I2
The heart's quick throb upon the mental rack	N2
Long day and dreary night the retrospect	O
Of half a century bloody and black	N2
And the frail few years I may yet expect	O
Hoary and hopeless but less hard to bear	Y
For I have been too long and deeply wrecked	O
On the lone rock of desolate Despair	Y
To lift my eyes more to the passing sail	O2
Which shuns that reef so horrible and bare	Y
Nor raise my voice for who would heed my wail	O2
I am not of this people nor this age	P2
And yet my harpings will unfold a tale	O2
Which shall preserve these times when not a page	P2
Of their perturb d annals could attract	O
An eye to gaze upon their civil rage by	P
Did not my verse embalm full many an act	O
Worthless as they who wrought it 'tis the doom	B2
Of spirits of my order to be racked	O
In life to wear their hearts out and consume	B2
Their days in endless strife and die alone	I
Then future thousands crowd around their tomb	B2
And pilgrims come from climes where they have known	I
The name of him who now is but a name	S
And wasting homage o'er the sullen stone	I
Spread his by him unheard unheeded fame	S
And mine at least hath cost me dear to die	P
Is nothing but to wither thus to tame	S
My mind down from its own infinity	U
To live in narrow ways with little men	Q2
A common sight to every common eye	P
A wanderer while even wolves can find a den	Q2
Ripped from all kindred from all home all things	V
That make communion sweet and soften pain	L2
To feel me in the solitude of kings	V
Without the power that makes them bear a crown	R2
To envy every dove his nest and wings	V
Which waft him where the Apennine looks down	R2
On Arno till he perches it may be	U
Within my all inexorable town	R2
Where yet my boys are and that fatal She	U
Their mother the cold partner who hath brought	O
Destruction for a dowry this to see	U
And feel and know without repair hath taught	O
A bitter lesson but it leaves me free	U
I have not vilely found nor basely sought	O
They made an Exile not a Slave of me	U
	-
	-
Canto The Second	O
	-
The Spirit of the fervent days of Old	O
When words were things that came to pass and Thought	O
Flashed o'er the future bidding men behold	O
Their children's children's doom already brought	O
Forth from the abyss of Time which is to be	U
The Chaos of events where lie half wrought	O
Shapes that must undergo mortality	U
What the great Seers of Israel wore within	S2
That Spirit was on them and is on me	U
And if Cassandra like amidst the din	S2
Of conflict none will hear or hearing heed	O
This voice from out the Wilderness the sin	S2
Be theirs and my own feelings be my meed	O
The only guerdon I have ever known	I
Hast thou not bled and hast thou still to bleed	O
Italia Ah to me such things foreshown	I
With dim sepulchral light bid me forget	O
In thine irreparable wrongs my own	I
We can have but one Country and even yet	O
Thou'rt mine my bones shall be within thy breast	O
My Soul within thy language which once set	O
With our old Roman sway in the wide West	O
But I will make another tongue arise	V
As lofty and more sweet in which expressed	O
The hero's ardour or the lover's sighs	V
Shall find alike such sounds for every theme	T2
That every word as brilliant as thy skies	V
Shall realise a Poet's proudest dream	T2
And make thee Europe's Nightingale of Song	U2
So that all present speech to thine shall seem	T2
The note of meaner birds and every tongue	V2
Confess its barbarism when compared with thine bz	V
This shalt thou owe to him thou didst so wrong	U2
Thy Tuscan bard the banished Ghibelline	I
Woe woe the veil of coming centuries	V
Is rent a thousand years which yet supine	I
Lie like the ocean waves ere winds arise	V
Heaving in dark and sullen undulation	I
Float from Eternity into these eyes	V
The storms yet sleep the clouds still keep their station	I
The unborn Earthquake yet is in the womb	B2
The bloody Chaos yet expects Creation	I
But all things are disposing for thy doom	B2
The Elements await but for the Word	O
Let there be darkness and thou grow'st a tomb	B2
Yes thou so beautiful shalt feel the sword	O
Thou Italy so fair that Paradise	V
Revived in thee blooms forth to man restored	O
Ah must the sons of Adam lose it twice	V
Thou Italy whose ever golden fields	V
Ploughed by the sunbeams solely would suffice	V
For the world's granary thou whose sky Heaven gilds ca	W2
With brighter stars and robes with deeper blue	X2
Thou in whose pleasant places Summer builds	V
Her palace in whose cradle Empire grew	X2
And formed the Eternal City's ornaments	V
From spoils of Kings whom freemen overthrew	X2
Birthplace of heroes sanctuary of Saints	V
Where earthly first then heavenly glory made cb	U
Her home thou all which fondest Fancy paints	V
And finds her prior vision but portrayed	O
In feeble colours when the eye from the Alp	Y2
Of horrid snow and rock and shaggy shade	O
Of desert loving pine whose emerald scalp	Y2
Nods to the storm dilates and dotes o'er thee	U
And wistfully implores as 'twere for help	Y2
To see thy sunny fields my Italy	U
Nearer and nearer yet and dearer still	Z2
The more approached and dearest were they free	U
Thou Thou must wither to each tyrant's will	Z2
The Goth hath been the German Frank and Hun	I
Are yet to come and on the imperial hill	Z2
Ruin already proud of the deeds done	I
By the old barbarians there awaits the new	X2
Throned on the Palatine while lost and won	I
Rome at her feet lies bleeding and the hue	X2
Of human sacrifice and Roman slaughter	W
Troubles the clotted air of late so blue	X2
And deepens into red the saffron water	W
Of Tiber thick with dead the helpless priest	O
And still more helpless nor less holy daughter	W
Vowed to their God have shrieking fled and ceased	O
Their ministry the nations take their prey	A3
Iberian Almain Lombard and the beast	O
And bird wolf vulture more humane than they	A3
	-
Are these but gorge the flesh and lap the gore	B3
Of the departed and then go their way	A3
But those the human savages explore	B3
All paths of torture and insatiate yet	O
With Ugolino hunger prowl for more	B3
Nine moons shall rise o'er scenes like this and set	O
The chiefless army of the dead which late	O
Beneath the traitor Prince's banner met	O
Hath left its leader's ashes at the gate	O
Had but the royal Rebel lived perchance	V
Thou hadst been spared but his involved thy fate	O
Oh Rome the Spoiler or the spoil of France	V
From Brennus to the Bourbon never never	W
Shall foreign standard to thy walls advance	V
But Tiber shall become a mournful river	W
Oh when the strangers pass the Alps and Po	Y2
Crush them ye Rocks Floods whelm them and for ever	W
Why sleep the idle Avalanches so	Y2
To topple on the lonely pilgrim's head	O
Why doth Eridanus but overflow	Y2
The peasant's harvest from his turbid bed	O
Were not each barbarous horde a nobler prey	A3
Over Cambyses' host the desert spread	O
Her sandy ocean and the Sea waves' sway	A3
Rolled over Pharaoh and his thousands why cc	U
Mountains and waters do ye not as they	A3
And you ye Men Romans who dare not die	O
Sons of the conquerors who overthrew	X2
Those who overthrew proud Xerxes where yet lie	O
The dead whose tomb Oblivion never knew	X2
Are the Alps weaker than Thermopyl	O
Their passes more alluring to the view	X2
Of an invader is it they or ye	U
That to each host the mountain gate unbar	X2
And leave the march in peace the passage free	X2
Why Nature's self detains the Victor's car	X2
And makes your land impregnable if earth	C3
Could be so but alone she will not war	X2
Yet aids the warrior worthy of his birth	C3
In a soil where the mothers bring forth men	I
Not so with those whose souls are little worth	C3
For them no fortress can avail the den	I
Of the poor reptile which preserves its sting	D3
Is more secure than walls of adamant when	I
The hearts of those within are quivering	D3
Are ye not brave Yes yet the Ausonian soil	O
Hath hearts and hands and arms and hosts to bring	D3
Against Oppression but how vain the toil	O
While still Division sows the seeds of woe	Y2
And weakness till the Stranger reaps the spoil	O
Oh my own beauteous land so long laid low	Y2
So long the grave of thy own children's hopes	V
When there is but required a single blow	Y2
To break the chain yet yet the Avenger stops	V
And Doubt and Discord step 'twixt thine and thee	X2
And join their strength to that which with thee copes	V
What is there wanting then to set thee free	X2
And show thy beauty in its fullest light	O
To make the Alps impassable and we	X2
Her Sons may do this with one deed Unite	O
	-
	-
Canto The Third	O
	-
From out the mass of never dying ill cd	X2
The Plague the Prince the Stranger and the Sword	O
Vials of wrath but emptied to refill	O
And flow again I cannot all record	O
That crowds on my prophetic eye the Earth	C3
And Ocean written o'er would not afford	O
Space for the annal yet it shall go forth	E3
Yes all though not by human pen is graven	I
There where the farthest suns and stars have birth	C3
Spread like a banner at the gate of Heaven	I
The bloody scroll of our millennial wrongs	V
Waves and the echo of our groans is driven	I
Athwart the sound of archangelic songs	V
And Italy the martyred nation's gore	X2
Will not in vain arise to where belongs ce	V
Omnipotence and Mercy evermore	X2
Like to a harpstring stricken by the wind	O
The sound of her lament shall rising o'er	X2
The Seraph voices touch the Almighty Mind	O
Meantime I humblest of thy sons and of	J
Earth's dust by immortality refined	O
To Sense and Suffering though the vain may scoff	F3
And tyrants threat and meeker victims bow	U
Before the storm because its breath is rough	G3
To thee my Country whom before as now	U
I loved and love devote the mournful lyre	X2
And melancholy gift high Powers allow	U
To read the future and if now my fire	X2
Is not as once it shone o'er thee forgive	H3
I but foretell thy fortunes then expire	X2
Think not that I would look on them and live	I3
A Spirit forces me to see and speak	J3
And for my guerdon grants not to survive	I3
My Heart shall be poured over thee and break	E2
Yet for a moment ere I must resume	B2
Thy sable web of Sorrow let me take	E2
Over the gleams that flash athwart thy gloom	B2
A softer glimpse some stars shine through thy night	O
And many meteors and above thy tomb	B2
Leans sculptured Beauty which Death cannot blight	O
And from thine ashes boundless Spirits rise	V
To give thee honour and the earth delight	O
Thy soil shall still be pregnant with the wise	V
The gay the learned the generous and the brave	A2
Native to thee as Summer to thy skies	V
Conquerors on foreign shores and the far wave	A2
Discoverers of new worlds which take their name	S
For thee alone they have no arm to save	A2
And all thy recompense is in their fame	S
A noble one to them but not to thee	X2
Shall they be glorious and thou still the same	S
Oh more than these illustrious far shall be	X2
The Being and even yet he may be born	I
The mortal Saviour who shall set thee free	X2
And see thy diadem so changed and worn	I
By fresh barbarians on thy brow replaced	O
And the sweet Sun replenishing thy morn	I
Thy moral morn too long with clouds defaced	O
And noxious vapours from Avernus risen	I
Such as all they must breathe who are debased	O
By Servitude and have the mind in prison	I
Yet through this centuried eclipse of woe cf	A2
Some voices shall be heard and Earth shall listen	I
Poets shall follow in the path I show	Y2
And make it broader the same brilliant sky	O
Which cheers the birds to song shall bid them glow cg	O
And raise their notes as natural and high	O
Tuneful shall be their numbers they shall sing	O
Many of Love and some of Liberty	X2
But few shall soar upon that Eagle's wing	O
And look in the Sun's face with Eagle's gaze	V
All free and fearless as the feathered King	O
But fly more near the earth how many a phrase	V
Sublime shall lavished be on some small prince	V
In all the prodigality of Praise	V
And language eloquently false evince ch	Y2
The harlotry of Genius which like Beauty ci	V
Too oft forgets its own self reverence	V
And looks on prostitution as a duty	X2
He who once enters in a Tyrant's hall cj	P2
As guest is slave his thoughts become a booty	X2
And the first day which sees the chain enthral	O
A captive sees his half of Manhood gone	I
The Soul's emasculation saddens all	O
His spirit thus the Bard too near the throne	I
Quails from his inspiration bound to please	V
How servile is the task to please alone	I
To smooth the verse to suit his Sovereign's ease	V
And royal leisure nor too much prolong	O
Aught save his eulogy and find and seize	V
Or force or forge fit argument of Song	O
Thus trammelled thus condemned to Flattery's trebles	V
He toils through all still trembling to be wrong	O
For fear some noble thoughts like heavenly rebels	V
Should rise up in high treason to his brain	I
He sings as the Athenian spoke with pebbles	V
In's mouth lest Truth should stammer through his strain	I
But out of the long file of sonneteers	V
There shall be some who will not sing in vain	I
And he their Prince shall rank among my peers	V
And Love shall be his torment but his grief	A2
Shall make an immortality of tears	V
And Italy shall hail him as the Chief	A2
Of Poet lovers and his higher song	O
Of Freedom wreathe him with as green a leaf	A2
But in a farther age shall rise along	O
The banks of Po two greater still than he	X2
The World which smiled on him shall do them wrong	O
Till they are ashes and repose with me	X2
The first will make an epoch with his lyre	X2
And fill the earth with feats of Chivalry	X2
His Fancy like a rainbow and his Fire	X2
Like that of Heaven immortal and his Thought	O
Borne onward with a wing that cannot tire	X2
Pleasure shall like a butterfly new caught	O
Flutter her lovely pinions o'er his theme	T2
And Art itself seem into Nature wrought	O
By the transparency of his bright dream	T2
The second of a tenderer sadder mood	O
Shall pour his soul out o'er Jerusalem	K3
He too shall sing of Arms and Christian blood	O
Shed where Christ bled for man and his high harp	Y2
Shall by the willow over Jordan's flood	O
Revive a song of Sion and the sharp	Y2
Conflict and final triumph of the brave	A2
And pious and the strife of Hell to warp	Y2
Their hearts from their great purpose until wave	A2
The red cross banners where the first red Cross	V
Was crimsoned from His veins who died to save ck	O
Shall be his sacred argument the loss	V
Of years of favour freedom even of fame	S
Contested for a time while the smooth gloss	V
Of Courts would slide o'er his forgotten name	S
And call Captivity a kindness meant	O
To shield him from insanity or shame	S
Such shall be his meek guerdon who was sent	O
To be Christ's Laureate they reward him well	O
Florence dooms me but death or banishment	O
Ferrara him a pittance and a cell	O
Harder to bear and less deserved for I	O
Had stung the factions which I strove to quell	O
But this meek man who with a lover's eye	O
Will look on Earth and Heaven and who will deign	I
To embalm with his celestial flattery	X2
As poor a thing as e'er was spawned to reign	I
What will he do to merit such a doom	B2
Perhaps he'll love and is not Love in vain	I
Torture enough without a living tomb	B2
Yet it will be so he and his compeer	X2
The Bard of Chivalry will both consume	B2
In penury and pain too many a year	X2
And dying in despondency bequeath	L3
To the kind World which scarce will yield a tear	X2
A heritage enriching all who breathe	M3
With the wealth of a genuine Poet's soul	O
And to their country a redoubled wreath	L3
Unmatched by time not Hellas can unroll	O
Through her Olympiads two such names though one	I
Of hers be mighty and is this the whole	O
Of such men's destiny beneath the Sun	I
Must all the finer thoughts the thrilling sense	V
The electric blood with which their arteries run cl	O
Their body's self turned soul with the intense	V
Feeling of that which is and fancy of	A2
That which should be to such a recompense	V
Conduct shall their bright plumage on the rough	A2
Storm be still scattered Yes and it must be	X2
For formed of far too penetrable stuff	A2
These birds of Paradise but long to flee	X2
Back to their native mansion soon they find	O
Earth's mist with their pure pinions not agree	X2
And die or are degraded for the mind	O
Succumbs to long infection and despair	X2
And vulture Passions flying close behind	O
Await the moment to assail and tear	X2
And when at length the wing d wanderers stoop	Y2
Then is the Prey birds' triumph then they share	X2
The spoil o'erpowered at length by one fell swoop	Y2
Yet some have been untouched who learned to bear	X2
Some whom no Power could ever force to droop	Y2
Who could resist themselves even hardest care	X2
And task most hopeless but some such have been	I
And if my name amongst the number were	X2
That Destiny austere and yet serene	I
Were prouder than more dazzling fame unblessed	O
The Alp's snow summit nearer heaven is seen	I
Than the Volcano's fierce eruptive crest	O
Whose splendour from the black abyss is flung	O
While the scorched mountain from whose burning breast	O
A temporary torturing flame is wrung	O
Shines for a night of terror then repels	V
Its fire back to the Hell from whence it sprung	O
The Hell which in its entrails ever dwells	V
	-
	-
Canto The Fourth	E3
	-
Many are Poets who have never penned	O
Their inspiration and perchance the best	O
They felt and loved and died but would not lend	O
Their thoughts to meaner beings they compressed	O
The God within them and rejoined the stars	V
Unlaurelled upon earth but far more blessed	O
Than those who are degraded by the jars	V
Of Passion and their frailties linked to fame	S
Conquerors of high renown but full of scars	V
Many are Poets but without the name	S
For what is Poesy but to create	O
From overfeeling Good or Ill and aim	S
At an external life beyond our fate	O
And be the new Prometheus of new men	I
Bestowing fire from Heaven and then too late	O
Finding the pleasure given repaid with pain	I
And vultures to the heart of the bestower	X2
Who having lavished his high gift in vain	I
Lies to his lone rock by the sea shore	X2
So be it we can bear But thus all they	A3
Whose Intellect is an o'ermastering Power	X2
Which still recoils from its encumbering clay	A3
Or lightens it to spirit whatsoe'er	X2
The form which their creations may essay	A3
Are bards the kindled Marble's bust may wear	X2
More poesy upon its speaking brow	X2
Than aught less than the Homeric page may bear	X2
One noble stroke with a whole life may glow	O
Or deify the canvass till it shine	I
With beauty so surpassing all below	O
That they who kneel to Idols so divine	I
Break no commandment for high Heaven is there	X2
Transfused transfigurated and the line	I
Of Poesy which peoples but the air	X2
With Thought and Beings of our thought reflected	O
Can do no more then let the artist share	X2
The palm he shares the peril and dejected	O
Faints o'er the labour unapproved Alas	V
Despair and Genius are too oft connected	O
Within the ages which before me pass	V
Art shall resume and equal even the sway	A3
Which with Apelles and old Phidias	V
She held in Hellas' unforgotten day	A3
Ye shall be taught by Ruin to revive	A2
The Grecian forms at least from their decay	A3
And Roman souls at last again shall live	A2
In Roman works wrought by Italian hands	V
And temples loftier than the old temples give	A2
New wonders to the World and while still stands	V
The austere Pantheon into heaven shall soar	X2
A Dome its image while the base expands	V
Into a fane surpassing all before	X2
Such as all flesh shall flock to kneel in ne'er	X2
Such sight hath been unfolded by a door	X2
As this to which all nations shall repair	X2
And lay their sins at this huge gate of Heaven	I
And the bold Architect unto whose care	X2
The daring charge to raise it shall be given	I
Whom all Arts shall acknowledge as their Lord	O
Whether into the marble chaos driven	I
His chisel bid the Hebrew at whose word	O
Israel left Egypt stop the waves in stone cm	S
Or hues of Hell be by his pencil poured	O
Over the damned before the Judgement throne	I
Such as I saw them such as all shall see	V
Or fanes be built of grandeur yet unknown	I
The Stream of his great thoughts shall spring from me	V
The Ghibelline who traversed the three realms	V
Which form the Empire of Eternity	V
Amidst the clash of swords and clang of helms	V
The age which I anticipate no less	V
Shall be the Age of Beauty and while whelms	V
Calamity the nations with distress	V
The Genius of my Country shall arise	V
A Cedar towering o'er the Wilderness	V
Lovely in all its branches to all eyes	V
Fragrant as fair and recognised afar	X2
Wafting its native incense through the skies	V
Sovereigns shall pause amidst their sport of war	X2
Weaned for an hour from blood to turn and gaze	V
On canvass or on stone and they who mar	X2
All beauty upon earth compelled to praise	V
Shall feel the power of that which they destroy	X2
And Art's mistaken gratitude shall raise	V
To tyrants who but take her for a toy	X2
Emblems and monuments and prostitute	O
Her charms to Pontiffs proud who but employ	X2
The man of Genius as the meanest brute	O
To bear a burthen and to serve a need	O
To sell his labours and his soul to boot	O
Who toils for nations may be poor indeed	O
But free who sweats for Monarchs is no more	X2
Than the gilt Chamberlain who clothed and feed	O
Stands sleek and slavish bowing at his door	X2
Oh Power that rulest and inspirest how	X2
Is it that they on earth whose earthly power	X2
Is likest thine in heaven in outward show	O
Least like to thee in attributes divine	I
Tread on the universal necks that bow	X2
And then assure us that their rights are thine	I
And how is it that they the Sons of Fame	S
Whose inspiration seems to them to shine	I
From high they whom the nations oftest name	S
Must pass their days in penury or pain	I
Or step to grandeur through the paths of shame	S
And wear a deeper brand and gaudier chain	I
Or if their Destiny be born aloof	A2
From lowliness or tempted thence in vain	I
In their own souls sustain a harder proof	A2
The inner war of Passions deep and fierce	V
Florence when thy harsh sentence razed my roof	A2
I loved thee but the vengeance of my verse	V
The hate of injuries which every year	X2
Makes greater and accumulates my curse	V
Shall live outliving all thou holdest dear	X2
Thy pride thy wealth thy freedom and even that	O
The most infernal of all evils here	X2
The sway of petty tyrants in a state	O
For such sway is not limited to Kings	V
And Demagogues yield to them but in date	O
As swept off sooner in all deadly things	V
Which make men hate themselves and one another	X2
In discord cowardice cruelty all that springs	V
From Death the Sin born's incest with his mother	X2
In rank oppression in its rudest shape	Y2
The faction Chief is but the Sultan's brother	X2
And the worst Despot's far less human ape	Y2
Florence when this lone spirit which so long	O
Yearned as the captive toiling at escape	Y2
To fly back to thee in despite of wrong	O
An exile saddest of all prisoners	V
Who has the whole world for a dungeon strong	O
Seas mountains and the horizon's verge for bars cn	I
Which shut him from the sole small spot of earth	C3
Where whatsoe'er his fate he still were hers	V
His Country's and might die where he had birth	C3
Florence when this lone Spirit shall return	I
To kindred Spirits thou wilt feel my worth	C3
And seek to honour with an empty urn	I
The ashes thou shalt ne'er obtain Alas	V
What have I done to thee my People Stern	I
Are all thy dealings but in this they pass	V
The limits of Man's common malice for	X2
All that a citizen could be I was	V
Raised by thy will all thine in peace or war	X2
And for this thou hast warred with me 'Tis done	I
I may not overleap the eternal bar	X2
Built up between us and will die alone	I
Beholding with the dark eye of a Seer	X2
The evil days to gifted souls foreshown	I
Foretelling them to those who will not hear	X2
As in the old time till the hour be come	S
When Truth shall strike their eyes through many a tear	X2
And make them own the Prophet in his tomb	S
	-
Ravenna	I

George Gordon Byron

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