Spain 1873-'74

OUT of the murk of heaviest clouds, Out of the feudal wrecks, and heap'd-up skeletons of kings, Out of that old entire European debris--the shatter'd mummeries, Ruin'd cathedrals, crumble of palaces, tombs of priests, Lo! Freedom's features, fresh, undimm'd, look forth--the same immortal face looks forth; (A glimpse as of thy mother's face, Columbia, A flash significant as of a sword, Beaming towards thee.) Nor think we forget thee, Maternal; Lag'd'st thou so long? Shall the clouds close again upon thee? Ah, but thou hast Thyself now appear'd to us--we know thee; Thou hast given us a sure proof, the glimpse of Thyself; Thou waitest there, as everywhere, thy time.