FIRST SPIRIT
  On a battle-trumpet's blast
  I fled hither, fast, fast, fast,
  'Mid the darkness upward cast.
  From the dust of creeds outworn,
  From the tyrant's banner torn,
  Gathering round me, onward borne,
  There was mingled many a cry--
  Freedom! Hope! Death! Victory!
  Till they faded through the sky;
  And one sound above, around,
  One sound beneath, around, above,
  Was moving; 't was the soul of love;
  'T was the hope, the prophecy,
  Which begins and ends in thee.

SECOND SPIRIT
  A rainbow's arch stood on the sea,
  Which rocked beneath, immovably;
  And the triumphant storm did flee,
  Like a conqueror, swift and proud,
  Begirt with many a captive cloud,
  A shapeless, dark and rapid crowd,
  Each by lightning riven in half.
  I heard the thunder hoarsely laugh.