Page:Poems - Bryant (1854).djvu/343

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THE ANTIQUITY OF FREEDOM.
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The grave defiance of thine elder eye,The usurper trembles in his fastnesses.
Thou shalt wax stronger with the lapse of years,But he shall fade into a feebler age;Feebler, yet subtler. He shall weave his snares,And spring them on thy careless steps, and clapHis withered hands, and from their ambush callHis hordes to fall upon thee. He shall sendQuaint maskers, wearing fair and gallant forms,To catch thy gaze, and uttering graceful wordsTo charm thy ear; while his sly imps, by stealth,Twine round thee threads of steel, light thread on threadThat grow to fetters; or bind down thy armsWith chains concealed in chaplets. Oh! not yetMayst thou unbrace thy corslet, nor lay byThy sword; nor yet, 0 Freedom! close thy lidsIn slumber; for thine enemy never sleeps,And thou must watch and combat till the dayOf the new earth and heaven. But wouldst thou restAwhile from tumult and the frauds of men,These old and friendly solitudes inviteThy visit. They, while yet the forest treesWere young upon the unviolated earth,And yet the moss-stains on the rock were new,Beheld thy glorious childhood, and rejoiced.
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