The way thou oft, hast come. Rise, and be one
On the new world's Star-top of Liberty.
VIII
"The Angels come in dreams," says Holy Writ;
And Science says, "No sleep so deep, but dreams."
Devine appearances with brightening gleams
Toward Paradise up from the demon's pit,
Ever rouse virtue; aye, for God redeems
His fire, wherever hid; the tempest teems,
But still his sparks fly, quick as flint is hit.