Invective seem'd to wait behind her lips,

As waits a river level with the dam

Ready to burst and flood the world with foam;
And so she would have spoken, but there rose
A hubbub in the court of half the maids
Gather'd together; from the illumined hall
Long lanes of splendor slanted o'er a press
Of snowy shoulders, thick as herded ewes,
And rainbow robes, and gems and gemlike eyes,
And gold and golden heads. They to and fro
Fluctuated, as flowers in storm, some red, some

pale,

All open-mouth'd, all gazing to the light,
Some crying there was an army in the land,
And some that men were in the very walls,
And some they cared not; till a clamor grew
As of a new-world Babel, woman-built,
And worse-confounded. High above them stood
The placid marble Muses, looking peace.

Not peace she look'd, the Head; but rising up Robed in the long night of her deep hair, so To the open window moved, remaining there Fixt like a beacon-tower above the waves Of tempest, when the crimson-rolling eye Glares ruin, and the wild birds on the light

Dash themselves dead. She stretch'd her arms and

call'd

Across the tumult, and the tumult fell.

What fear ye, brawlers? am not I your Head? On me, me, me, the storm first breaks; I dare All these male thunderbolts; what is it ye fear? Peace! there are those to avenge us and they

come;

If not, myself were like enough, O girls,

To unfurl the maiden banner of our rights,
And clad in iron burst the ranks of war,
Or, falling, protomartyr of our cause,

Die; yet I blame you not so much for fear;
Six thousand years of fear have made you that
From which I would redeem you. But for those
That stir this hubbub you and you - I know
Your faces there in the crowd to-morrow morn
We hold a great convention; then shall they
That love their voices more than duty, learn
With whom they deal, dismiss'd in shame to live
No wiser than their mothers, household stuff,
Live chattels, mincers of each other's fame,
Full of weak poison, turnspits for the clown,
The drunkard's football, laughing-stocks of Time,
Whose brains are in their hands and in their heels,
But fit to flaunt, to dress, to dance, to thrum,
To tramp, to scream, to burnish, and to scour,
For ever slaves at home and fools abroad.'

She, ending, waved her hands; thereat the crowd Muttering, dissolved; then with a smile, that look'd A stroke of cruel sunshine on the cliff,

When all the glens are drown'd in azure gloom
Of thunder-shower, she floated to us and said:

"You have done well and like a gentleman, And like a prince; you have our thanks for all. And you look well too in your woman's dress. Well have you done and like a gentleman. You saved our life; we owe you bitter thanks. Better have died and spilt our bones in the flood Then men had said - but now what hinders

me

To take such bloody vengeance on you both? Yet since our father

wasps in our good hive, You would-be quenchers of the light to be, Barbarians, grosser than your native bears — O, would I had his sceptre for one hour! You that have dared to break our bound, and gull'd Our servants, wrong'd and lied and thwarted us I wed with thee! I bound by precontract Your bride, your bondslave! not tho' all the gold That veins the world were pack'd to make your

crown,

And every spoken tongue should lord you. Sir,
Your falsehood and yourself are hateful to us;
I trample on your offers and on you.

Begone; we will not look upon you more.

Here, push them out at gates.'

In wrath she spake.

Then those eight mighty daughters of the plough

Bent their broad faces toward us and address'd

Their motion. Twice I sought to plead my cause
But on my shoulder hung their heavy hands,
The weight of destiny; so from her face

They push'd us, down the steps, and thro' the

court,

And with grim laughter thrust us out at gates.

We cross'd the street and gain'd a petty mound Beyond it, whence we saw the lights and heard The voices murmuring. While I listen'd, came On a sudden the weird seizure and the doubt. I seem'd to move among a world of ghosts; The Princess with her monstrous woman-guard, The jest and earnest working side by side, The cataract and the tumult and the kings Were shadows; and the long fantastic night With all its doings had and had not been, And all things were and were not.

This went by As strangely as it came, and on my spirits Settled a gentle cloud of melancholy Not long; I shook it off; for spite of doubts. And sudden ghostly shadowings I was one To whom the touch of all mischance but came As night to him that sitting on a hill Sees the midsummer, midnight, Norway sun Set into sunrise; then we moved away.

INTERLUDE

Thy voice is heard thro' rolling drums
That beat to battle where he stands;
Thy face across his fancy comes,

And gives the battle to his hands.
A moment, while the trumpets blow,
He sees his brood about thy knee;
The next, like fire he meets the foe,

And strikes him dead for thine and thee.

So Lilia sang.

We thought her half-possess'd, She struck such warbling fury thro' the words ; And, after, feigning pique at what she call'd The raillery, or grotesque, or false sublime— Like one that wishes at a dance to change

The music

clapt her hands and cried for war, Or some grand fight to kill and make an end. And he that next inherited the tale,

Half turning to the broken statue, said,

Sir Ralph has got your colors; if I prove

Your knight, and fight your battle, what for me?'

It chanced, her empty glove upon the tomb
Lay by her like a model of her hand.

She took it and she flung it. Fight,' she said,
• And make us all we would be, great and good.'
He knightlike in his cap instead of casque,
A cap of Tyrol borrow'd from the hall,
Arranged the favor, and assumed the Prince.