Str. 5

O that these my days had been Ere white peace and shame were wed Without torch or dancers’ din Round the unsacred marriage-bed! For of old the sweet-tongued law, Freedom, clothed with all men’s love, Girt about with all men’s awe, With the wild war-eagle mated The white breast of peace the dove, And his ravenous heart abated And his windy wings were furled In an eyrie consecrated Where the snakes of strife uncurled, And her soul was soothed and sated With the welfare of the world.