Ring answer from the records of the Cid. 
      But never force of fountains
      From sunniest hearts of mountains
  Wherein the soul of hidden June was hid
      Poured forth so pure and strong
      Springs of reiterate song,
  Loud as the streams his fame was reared amid,
    More sweet than flowers they feed, and fair
With grace of lordlier sunshine and more lambent air.

IX.

A star more prosperous than the storm-clothed east’s
  Clothed all the warm south-west with light like spring’s,
When hands of strong men spread the wolves their feasts
  And from snake-spirited princes plucked the stings;
Ere earth, grown all one den of hurtling beasts,
  Had for her sunshine and her watersprings
The fire of hell that warmed the hearts of priests,
  The wells of blood that slaked the lips of kings. 
      The shadow of night made stone
      Stood populous and alone,
  Dense with its dead and loathed of living things
      That draw not life from death,
      And as with hell’s own breath
  And clangour of immitigable wings
    Vexed the fair face of Paris, made
Foul in its murderous imminence of sound and shade.

X.

And all these things were parcels of the vision
  That moved a cloud before his eyes, or stood
A tower half shattered by the strong collision
  Of spirit and spirit, of evil gods with good;
A ruinous wall rent through with grim division,
  Where time had marked his every monstrous mood
Of scorn and strength and pride and self-derision: 
  The Tower of Things, that felt upon it brood
      Night, and about it cast
      The storm of all the past
  Now mute and forceless as a fire subdued: 
      Yet through the rifted years
      And centuries veiled with tears
  And ages as with very death imbrued
    Freedom, whence hope and faith grow strong,
Smiles, and firm love sustains the indissoluble song.

XI.

Above the cloudy coil of days deceased,
  Its might of flight, with mists and storms beset,
Burns heavenward, as with heart and hope increased,
  For all the change of tempests, all the fret
Of frost or fire, keen fraud or force released,
  Wherewith the world once wasted knows not yet
If evil or good lit all the darkling east
  From the ardent moon of sovereign Mahomet. 
      Sublime in work and will
      The song sublimer still
  Salutes him, ere the splendour shrink and set;
      Then with imperious eye
      And wing that sounds the sky
  Soars and sees risen as ghosts in concourse met
    The old world’s seven elder wonders, firm
As dust and fixed as shadows, weaker than the worm.

XII.