The Belfry Of Bruges

Keen comes the dizzy air In one tumultuous breath. The tower to heaven lies bare; Dumb stir the streets beneath. Immeasurable sky Domes upward from the dim Round land, the astonished eye Supposes the world's rim. And through the sea of space Winds drive the furious cloud Silent in endless race; And the tower rocks aloud. Mine eye now wanders wide, My thought now quickens keen. O cities, far descried, What ravage have you seen Of an enkindled world? Homes blazing and hearths bare; Of hosts tyrannic hurled On pale ranks of despair, Who fed with warm proud blood The cause unquenchable, For which your heroes stood, For which our Sidney fell; Sidney, whose starry fame, Mirrored in noble song, Shines, all our sloth to shame, And arms us against wrong; Bright star, that seems to burn Over yon English shore, Whither my feet return, And my thoughts run before; Run with this rumour brought By the wild wind's alarms, Dark sounds with battle fraught, Menace of distant arms. O menace harsh, but vain! For what can peril do But search our souls again To sift and find the true? Prove if the sap of old Shoots yet from the old seed, If faith be still unsold, If truth be truth indeed? Welcome the blast that shakes The wall wherein we have lain Slumbering, our heart awakes And rends the prison chain. Turn we from prosperous toys And the dull name of ease; Rather than tarnished joys Face we the angry seas! Or, if old age infirm Be in our veins congealed, Bow we to Time, our term Fulfilled, and proudly yield. Not each to each we are made, Not each to each we fall, But every true part played Quickens the heart of all That feeds and moves and fires The many--peopled lands, And in our languor tires But in our strength expands. For forward--gazing eyes Fate shall no terror keep. She in our own breast lies: Now let her wake from sleep!