The Poetical Works of the Rev. George Croly | ||
XIX.
The hour shall come!—It is no mystic's trance,But true as He, who wills, and it is done!
The hour shall come,—is come!—Our feeble glance
Ev'n now sees stooping from its clouds the throne
Where One shall rule o'er earth—The Mighty One.
Its kings his hallow'd viceroys—man's old stain
Fast brightening from the spirit;—war unknown;—
Till Death has died! and, rushing from his chain,
To heaven th'immortals rise, with angel plume and strain.
The Poetical Works of the Rev. George Croly | ||