Mother and maid, immortal, prompt of thought!
Fairest and first art thou in name and fame,
And thou shalt lash the storm till it be nought!
XVII.
O thou desired of men! O thou supreme
And true-toned spirit whom the bards revere!
At times thou com'st in likeness of a dream
To urge rebellion, with a face austere;
And by that power thou hast—e'en by that power
Which is the outcome of thy sovereign-dower—