IV.
Yet thus it was. Amidst the fleet streams gushing
To bring down rainbows o’er their sparry cell,
And the glad heights, through mist and tempest rushing
Up where the sun’s red fire-glance earliest fell,
And the fresh pastures where the herd’s sweet bell
Recall’d such life as Eastern patriarchs led;
There peasant men their free thoughts might not tell
Save in the hour of shadows and of dread,
And hollow sounds that wake to Guilt’s dull stealthy tread.