FOR THE FEAST OF GIORDANO BRUNO,

Son of the lightning and the light that glows

Beyond the lightning's or the morning's light,

Soul splendid with all-righteous love of right,

In whose keen fire all hopes and fears and woes

Were clean consumed, and from their ashes rose

Transfigured, and intolerable to sight

Save of purged eyes whose lids had cast off night,

In love's and wisdom's likeness when they close,

Embracing, and between them truth stands fast,

Embraced of either; thou whose feet were set

On English earth while this was England yet,

Our friend that art, our Sidney's friend that wast,

Heart hardier found and higher than all men's past,

Shall we not praise thee though thine own forget?

Lift up thy light on us and on thine own,

O soul whose spirit on earth was as a rod

To scourge off priests, a sword to pierce their God,

A staff for man's free thought to walk alone,

A lamp to lead him far from shrine and throne

On ways untrodden where his fathers trod

Ere earth's heart withered at a high priest's nod

And all men's mouths that made not prayer made moan.

From bonds and torments and the ravening flame

Surely thy spirit of sense rose up to greet

Lucretius, where such only spirits meet,

And walk with him apart till Shelley came

To make the heaven of heavens more heavenly sweet

And mix with yours a third incorporate name.