Cantos from CXXXV to CXXVII 


CXXXV 
He wrote this Polar melody, and set it, 
Duly accompanied by shrieks and groans, 
Which few will sing, I trust, but none forget it-- 
For I will teach, if possible, the stones 
To rise against Earth's tyrants. Never let it 
Be said that we still truckle unto thrones; 
But ye--our children's children! think how we 
Show'd what things were before the World was free! 

CXXXVI 
That hour is not for us, but 'tis for you: 
And as, in the great joy of your millennium, 
You hardly will believe such things were true 
As now occur, I thought that I would pen you 'em; 
But may their very memory perish too! 
Yet if perchance remember'd, still disdain you 'em 
More than you scorn the savages of yore, 
Who painted their bare limbs, but not with gore. 

CXXXVII 
And when you hear historians talk of thrones 
And those that sate upon them, let it be 
As we now gaze upon the mammoth's bones, 
And wonder what old world such things could see, 
Or hieroglyphics on Egyptian stones, 
The pleasant riddles of futurity-- 
Guessing at what shall happily be hid, 
As the real purpose of a pyramid.