Invocation

(From a High Cliff)

Sweep unrest Out of my blood, Winds of the sea! Sweep the fog Out of my brain For I am one Who has told Life he will be free. Who will not doubt of work that's done, Who will not fear the work to do, Who will hold peaks Promethean Better than all Jove's honey-dew. Who when the Vulture tears his breast Will smile into the Terror's Eyes. Who for the World has this Bequest-- Hope, that eternally is wise.