text:  Who gave me succour Against the Titans in their tyrannous might? Who rescued me from death--from slavery? Thou!--thou my soul burning with hallow'd fire Thou hast thyself alone achieved it all! Yet didst thou in thy young simplicity Glow with misguided thankfulness to him That slumbers on in idlesse there above! I reverence thee? Wherefore? Hast thou ever Lighten'd the sorrows of the heavy-laden? _Thou_ ever stretch'd thy hand to still the tears Of the perplex'd in spirit? Was it not Almighty Time and ever-during Fate-- My lords and thine--that shaped and fashion'd me Into the MAN I am? Belike it was thy dream That I should hate life--fly to wastes and wilds For that the buds of visionary thought Did not all ripen into goodly flowers? Here do I sit and mould Men after mine own image-- A race that may be like unto myself To suffer weep; to enjoy and to rejoice; And like myself unheeding all of thee! We shall close this Number with a ballad of a different cast but lest the transition should be too violent we shall interpolate the space with a very beautiful lyric