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Poems (Blind)/Invocation

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For works with similar titles, see Invocation.
4390732Poems — InvocationMathilde Blind
INVOCATION.
June, 1866.
Breathe thro' me in music,Spirit of the time!Pregnant with the future,Spirit of the time!
As the west wind sougheth,Through the swaying pine,Sweep thro' all my branchesWith thy song divine.
Nations now are rollingOnward, as the seaWhich the moon upheaveth,Thus upheaved by thee.
Muffled mutt'ring growethLouder on the air!Like a lion roaring,Rising from his lair.
As the anthem surgethThrough cathedral aisles,Swells the voice of nationsOver miles of miles.
As the thunder growlethIn yon cloud afar,In their bosoms broodethThe black bolt of war.
Snap in twain your fetters,Cleave your ancient yoke,Burst the gloom of agesWith the lightning's stroke.
Clap on clap, down-crashing,Clatter crowd on crowd,From Venetia's dungeons,From the Roman shroud;
From the graves of Poland,From Germania's plains,From the death-pollutionOf imperial chains.
Feel yourselves as brothers,Dare to think ye free;And in dust will shiverThrones of tyranny.
Like night's phantoms, with'ring'Neath the glance of dawn,Kings and priests dissolvethYour full-flashing frown.
Forward, sons of morning,With a sacred ire!Lead ye, like Jehovah,In a pillar of fire.
Through the dreary desert,Through the burning sandTill, on shores of promiseAnd of peace, ye land.
Where a purer people,Led by laws innate,Shall, towards the heavens,Tower in grander state.
Breathe and blow in music;On, from clime to clime;Baptize, with the Holy GhostSpirit of the time.