XV.
Yet still, through the darkness and sorrow,
I dream of a time yet to be,
When from mountain and ocean to Heaven
Will rise up the Hymn of the Free.
When our Country, made perfect through trial,
White-robed, myrtle-crowned, as a Bride,
Will stand forth, "a Lady of Kingdoms,"
Through Light and through Love glorified.
FOOTNOTES
[1] "Kings—The Earthly Elohim."—Sir Thomas Browne.
[2] Palmyra, or Tadmor.
[3] On reading his Essay on the Collation of Certain Ancient Spanish Manuscripts, printed from the proceedings of the Royal Irish Academy.
[4] Abdallah is known in history as "El triste Rey."
[5] This taunt of the Sultana mother is related by Condé.
[6] Lorc, or Lorcan, an ancient King of Munster, the grandfather of the great King Brian Boru.
[7] This Irish poem, so pathetic and expressive in its simplicity, first appeared in the Dublin University Magazine, in the Essay on "The Food of the Irish," by Sir William Wilde. It is quoted by him as "highly characteristic both of the feelings of the people and the extent of the calamity of that time; besides being a good specimen of the native poetry of the Irish more than a hundred years ago."
[8] "Thoughts come again, convictions perpetuate themselves opportunities pass by irrecoverably."—Goethe.
[9] Novgorod the Great.
[10] Lithuania.