Of tears that dim expectant eyes.”
And every wind from vale and glen
Sang loud, “He, too, shall rise and shine!
A warrior he, a chief of men,
A prince with might; and he is thine.”
VI.
Men praised my words. Thy spirit dwells
Within me, strangely linked with mine:
At times my mind's remotest cells
Brighten with thoughts less mine than thine.