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IX. THE RENAISSANCE, AND SAVONAROLA.—2.
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IX. THE RENAISSANCE, AND SAVONAROLA.—2.

Then rise, and paint the Hours; and launch them forth
Like sequent arrows hurled from God's right hand,
Or eagles of the ocean borne to earth
By solid storm their wings no more withstand:
Yet, calm in speed, a stern, predestined band,
In meditative might or gloomy mirth
Speed them, dread forms of elemental birth;
And let one bear the trump, and one the brand.
Fix thou their mighty eyes the dark locks under
Massed o'er their fervid foreheads, like a cloud
Whose heart is flame: and be their faces bowed,
As though they listened to unsleeping thunder;
The breaking of the billows of Time's sea
On the far confines of Eternity.