To Pius Ix by Frances Anne Kemble
It may be that the stone which thou art heaving
From off thy people’s neck shall fall and crush thee,
It may be that the sudden flood shall push thee
From off the rock, whence, prophet-like, believing
In God’s great future, thou dost set it free,
Yet heave it, heave it heaven high, nor fear
To be o’erwhelmed in the first wild career
Of those long-prisoned tides of liberty.
That stone which thou hast lifted from the heart
Of a whole nation shall become to thee
A glorious monument, such as no art
E’er piled above a mortal memory:
Falling beneath it, thou shalt have a tomb
That shall make low the loftiest dome in Rome.