Felicia Hemans

“ In mastery o'er the spirit sweeps, like a strong wind o'er the main!
Whose voice lives deep in burning hearts, for ever there to dwell,
As a full-toned Oracle's enshrined in a temple's holiest cell. ”

“ The weary one may calmly sink to rest;
Let some kind voice, beside his lowly couch,
Pour the last prayer for mortal agony.
A trumpet's note is in the sky, in the glorious Roman sky,
Whose dome hath rung, so many an age, to the voice of Victory;
There is crowding to the Capitol, th' imperial streets along,
For again a conqueror must be crown'd, a kingly child of song. ”