Take, since you bade it should bear, <br /> These, of the seed of your sowing, <br /> Blossom or berry or weed. <br />Sweet though they be not, or fair, <br /> That the dew of your word kept growing, <br /> Sweet at least was the seed. <br /> <br />Men bring you love-offerings of tears, <br /> And sorrow the kiss that assuages, <br /> And slaves the hate-offering of wrongs, <br />And time the thanksgiving of years, <br /> And years the thanksgiving of ages; <br /> I bring you my handful of songs. <br /> <br />If a perfume be left, if a bloom, <br /> Let it live till Italia be risen, <br /> To be strewn in the dust of her car <br />When her voice shall awake from the tomb <br /> England, and France from her prison, <br /> Sisters, a star by a star. <br /> <br />I bring you the sword of a song, <br /> The sword of my spirit's desire, <br /> Feeble; but laid at your feet, <br />That which was weak shall be strong, <br /> That which was cold shall take fire, <br /> That which was bitter be sweet. <br /> <br />It was wrought not with hands to smite, <br /> Nor hewn after swordsmiths' fashion, <br /> Nor tempered on anvil of steel; <br />But with visions and dreams of the night, <br /> But with hope, and the patience of passion, <br /> And the signet of love for a seal. <br /> <br />Be it witness, till one more strong, <br /> Till a loftier lyre, till a rarer <br /> Lute praise her better than I, <br />Be it witness before you, my song, <br /> That I knew her, the world's banner-bearer, <br /> Who shall cry the republican cry. <br /> <br />Yea, even she as at first, <br /> Yea, she alone and none other, <br /> Shall cast down, shall build up, shall bring home; <br />Slake earth's hunger and thirst, <br /> Lighten, and lead as a mother; <br /> First name of the world's names, Rome.<br /><br />Algernon Charles Swinburne<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/dedication-to-joseph-mazzini/
