Chapter LXVII

It was a bloody sacrament: Death came
Unto the bridal, like a bidden guest,
The Priestess, FREEDOM, had but bless'd the flame,
E'er the fierce furies to the revel press'd:
The storm grew dark--its lightning flash'd afar--
Murder and Rapine leagu'd themselves with War;
Yet, proudly and triumphantly, on high,
That eagle-guarded banner waved to victory.