 | The Visionary |  |
208
SONNET.
[Hands strong and pure—hands mighty or to launch]
Hands strong and pure—hands mighty or to launchThe thunder-bolt, or with a gentler art
To bind the Land's now almost broken heart,
The Land's long bleeding yawning wounds to staunch,
These are required! Oh! that the Olive-branch
May wave around her brows, that now may start
In lovely Resurrection—even as dart
Stars from night's heavens—with silvery sheen to blanch
The Shadowy Arch—Hope, Concord, Peace, and Faith!
May she, who subjugated Realms of old,
Then lead them—breathing Peace, celestial breath!
By her example—so the master-mould
Of Nature's hand shall she remain! yet saith—
Winged Hope, more bright, more bright, shall we her face behold!
| The Visionary | |