_Pr._ I knew thy heart would fail not at the hour.
_In._ Nay, failed I now, what were my years of toil More than the endurance of a harnessed brute, Flogged to his daily work, that cannot view The high design to which his labour steps? And I of all men were dishonoured most Shrinking in fear, who never shrank from toil, And found abjuring, thrusting stiffly back, The very gift for which I stretched my hands. What though I suffer? are these wintry years Of growing desolation to be held 716 As cherishable as the suns of spring? Nay, only joyful can they be in seeing Long hopes accomplished, long desires fulfilled. And since thou hast touched ambition on the side Of nobleness, and stirred my proudest hope, And wilt fulfil this, shall I count the cost? Rather decay will triumph, and cold death Be lapped in glory, seeing strength arise 724 From weakness, from the tomb go forth a flame.
_Pr._ ’Tis well; thou art exalted now, the grace Becomes thy valiant spirit.
_In._ Lo! on this day Which hope despaired to see, hope manifests A vision bright as were the dreams of youth; When life was easy as a sleeper’s faith Who swims in the air and dances on the sea; When all the good that scarce by toil is won, Or not at all is won, is as a flower Growing in plenty to be plucked at will: Is it a dream again or is it truth, 735 This vision fair of Greece inhabited? A fairer sight than all fair Iris sees, Footing her airy arch of colours spun From Ida to Olympus, when she stays To look on Greece and thinks the sight is fair; Far fairer now, clothed with the works of men.
_Pr._ Ay, fairer far: for nature’s varied pleasaunce Without man’s life is but a desert wild, Which most, where most she mocks him, needs his aid. She knows her silence sweeter when it girds 745 His murmurous cities, her wide wasteful curves Larger beside his economic line; Or what can add a mystery to the dark, As doth his measured music when it moves With rhythmic sweetness through the void of night? Nay, all her loveliest places are but grounds Of vantage, where with geometric hand, True square and careful compass he may come To plan and plant and spread abroad his towers, His gardens, temples, palaces and tombs. 755 And yet not all thou seest, with trancèd eye Looking upon the beauty that shall be, The temple-crownèd heights, the wallèd towns, Farms and cool summer seats, nor the broad ways That bridge the rivers and subdue the mountains, Nor all that travels on them, pomp or war Or needful merchandise, nor all the sails Piloting over the wind-dappled blue Of the summer-soothed Ægean, to thy mind Can picture what shall be: these are the face And form of beauty, but her heart and life Shall they be who shall see it, born to shield A happier birthright with intrepid arms, To tread down tyranny and fashion forth A virgin wisdom to subdue the world, 770 To build for passion an eternal song, To shape her dreams in marble, and so sweet Their speech, that envious Time hearkening shall stay In fear to snatch, and hide his rugged hand. Now is the birthday of thy conquering youth, O man, and lo! thy priest and prophet stand Beside the altar and have blessed the day.