LO! Victress on the peaks!
Where thou, with mighty brow, regarding the world,
(The world, O Libertad, that vainly conspired against thee;)
Out of its countless beleaguering toils, after thwarting them all;
Dominant, with the dazzling sun around thee,
Flauntest now unharmd, in immortal soundness and bloomlo! in these hours
No poem proud, I, chanting, bring to theenor masterys rapturous verse;
But a book, containing nights darkness, and blood-dripping wounds,
And psalms of the dead.