Titanic powers upsurging from the abyss.
Then, in the blood-red dawn of ninety-three,
The bright crust cracked. The furious lava rolled
Through Paris, and a thundercloud of doom
Pealed over thrones and peoples. Flash on flash,
Blind lightnings of the guillotine replied.
Blind throats around the headsman’s basket roared.
The slippery cobbles were greased with human blood.
The torch was at the gates of the Bastille.
Old towers, old creeds, old wrongs, at a Mænad shout,