11.

Mine own twice banished fathers’ harbour-land,
  Their nursing-mother France, the well-beloved,
By the arduous blast of sanguine sunrise fanned,
  Flamed on him, and his burning lips were moved
As that live statue’s throned on Lybian sand
  When morning moves it, ere her light faith roved
From promise, and her tyrant’s poisonous hand
  Fed hope with Corsic honey till she proved
      More deadly than despair
      And falser even than fair,
  Though fairer than all elder hopes removed
      As landmarks by the crime
      Of inundating time;
  Light faith by grief too loud too long reproved: 
    For even as in some darkling dance
Wronged love changed hands with hate, and turned his heart from France.

12.

But past the snows and summits Pyrenean
  Love stronger-winged held more prevailing flight
That o’er Tyrrhene, Iberian, and AEgean
  Shores lightened with one storm of sound and light. 
From earliest even to hoariest years one paean
  Rang rapture through the fluctuant roar of fight,
From Nestor’s tongue in accents Achillean
  On death’s blind verge dominant over night
      For voice as hand and hand
      As voice for one fair land
  Rose radiant, smote sonorous, past the height
      Where darkling pines enrobe
      The steel-cold Lake of Gaube,
  Deep as dark death and keen as death to smite,
    To where on peak or moor or plain
His heart and song and sword were one to strike for Spain.

13.

Resurgent at his lifted voice and hand
  Pale in the light of war or treacherous fate
Song bade before him all their shadows stand
  For whom his will unbarred their funeral grate. 
The father by whose wrong revenged his land
  Was given for sword and fire to desolate
Rose fire-encircled as a burning brand,
  Great as the woes he wrought and bore were great. 
      Fair as she smiled and died,
      Death’s crowned and breathless bride
  Smiled as one living even on craft and hate: 
      And pity, a star unrisen,
      Scarce lit Ferrante’s prison
  Ere night unnatural closed the natural gate
    That gave their life and love and light
To those fair eyes despoiled by fratricide of sight.

14.

Tears bright and sweet as fire and incense fell
  In perfect notes of music-measured pain
On veiled sweet heads that heard not love’s farewell
  Sob through the song that bade them rise again;
Rise in the light of living song, to dwell
  With memories crowned of memory:  so the strain
Made soft as heaven the stream that girdles hell
  And sweet the darkness of the breathless plain,
      And with Elysian flowers
      Recrowned the wreathless hours
  That mused and mourned upon their works in vain;
      For all their works of death
      Song filled with light and breath,
  And listening grief relaxed her lightening chain;
    For sweet as all the wide sweet south
She found the song like honey from the lion’s mouth.