Page:The Poems of William Blake (Shepherd, 1887).djvu/89

The smoking trees are strewn upon the shore,
Spoil'd of their verdure! O how oft have they
Defied the storm that howled o'er their heads!
Our fathers, sweating, lean on their spears, and view
The mighty dead: giant bodies, streaming blood,
Dread visages, frowning in silent death.

Then Brutus spoke, inspired; our fathers sit
Attentive on the melancholy shore:
Hear ye the voice of Brutus—"The flowing waves
"Of time come rolling o'er my breast," he said;
"And my heart labours with futurity:
"Our sons shall rule the empire of the sea.
 
"Their mighty wings shall stretch from east to west,
"Their nest is in the sea; but they shall roam
"Like eagles for the prey; nor shall the young
"Crave or be heard; for plenty shall bring forth,
"Cities shall sing, and vales in rich array
"Shall laugh, whose fruitful laps bend down with fulness.

"Our sons shall rise from thrones in joy,
"Each one buckling on his armour; Morning
"Shall be prevented by their swords gleaming,
"And Evening hear their song of victory!
"Their towers shall be built upon the rocks,
"Their daughters shall sing, surrounded with shining spears!