The chain is not for ours!”
It is she! She is come like a dayspring beam,
She that so mournfully shadow’d his dream!
With her shining eyes and her buoyant form,
She is come! her tears on his cheek are warm;
And oh! the thrill in that weeping voice!
“My brother! my brother! come forth, rejoice!”
Poet! the land of thy love is free,—
Sister! thy brother is won by thee!