Poems (Jackson)/Mazzini

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MAZZINI.
THAT he is dead the sons of kings are glad;And in their beds the tyrants sounder sleep.Now he is dead his martyrdom will reapLate harvest of the palms it should have hadIn life. Too late the tardy lands are sad.His unclaimed crown in secret they will keepFor ages, while in chains they vainly weep,And vainly grope to find the roads he badeThem take.Them take.O glorious soul! there is no dearthOf worlds. There must be many better worthThy presence and thy leadership than this.No doubt, on some great sun to-day, thy birthIs for a race, the dawn of Freedom's bliss,Which but for thee it might for ages miss.
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