Lo! Victress on the Peaks

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 unharm'd, in immortal soundness and bloom—lo! in these hours supreme
No poem proud, I, chanting, bring to thee—nor mastery's rapturous verse;
But a book, containing night's darkness, and blood-dripping wounds
And psalms of the dead