From its context pluck’d apart,
Branded deep in every heart—
There it lies, the tempest-tost
Wreckage of the Faith you’ve lost.
Forth! out of this stifling pit!
Vault-like is the air of it!
Not a Flag may float unfurl’d
In this dead and windless world!
[He is going; a stone is thrown from above and rolls down the slope close by him.
Brand.