Mathilde Blind

Here you will find thePoemInvocationof poet Mathilde 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 tho' all my branches With thy song divine. Nations now are rolling Onward, as the sea Which the moon upheaveth, Thus upheaved by thee. Muffled mutt'ring groweth Louder on the air! Like a lion roaring, Rising from his lair. As the anthem surgeth Through cathedral aisles, Swells the voice of nations Over miles of miles. As the thunder growleth In yon cloud afar, In their bosoms broodeth The black bolt of war. Snap in twain your fetters, Cleave your ancient yoke, Burst the gloom of ages With the lightning 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-pollution Of imperial chains. Feel yourselves as brothers, Dare to think ye free; And in dust will shiver Thrones of tyranny. Like night's phantoms, with'ring 'Neath the glance of dawn, Kings and priests dissolveth Your 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 sand Till, on shores of promise And 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 Spirit Spirit of the time.