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SCENE-Holland. TIME-During the Government of the
Duke of Alva.


Not complain!

Endure in silence! suffer with beast patience
Oppressions such as these!



Nay-an it please you,

on, rail on! and when the rod of power

Falls heavy, why, no doubt 'twill comfort you

Amid your dungeon miseries, to reflect

How valiantly you talk'd! you know Count Roderick ;—

He would be railing too!


And what has followed?


I saw him in his dungeon: 'tis a place

Where the hell-haunted murderer might almost


Rejoice to hear the hangman summon him.
By day he may divert his solitude

With watching thro' the grate the snow-flakes fall,
Or counting the long icicles above him,
Or he may trace upon the ice-glazed wall
Lines of most brave sedition! and at night
The frosty moon-beam for his meditation
Lends light enough. He told me that his feet
Were ulcered with the biting cold.—I would
Thou hadst been with me, Ellis!


But does Philip

Command these things, or knowingly permit
The punishment to go before the judgment?


Knowest thou not with what confidence the King
Reposes upon Alva? we believe

That 'tis with Philip a twin act to know
Injustice, and redress; this article

Of our state-creed, 'twere heresy to doubt.
But the dead echo of the dungeon groan,
How should it pierce the palace? how intrude
Upon the delicate ear of royalty?


But sure Count Roderick's service


Powerful plea!

He served his country and his country paid him
The wages of his service. Why but late
A man that in ten several fields had fought
His country's battles, by the hangman's hand
Died like a dog; and for a venial crime-
A deed that could not trouble with one doubt
A dying man! At Lepanto he had shared
The danger of that day whose triumph broke
The Ottoman's power, and this was pleaded for him:
Six months they stretch'd him on the rack of hope
Then took his life.


I would I were in England!


Aye, get thee home again! you islanders
Live under such good laws, so mild a sway,
That you are no more fit to dwell abroad
Than a doting mother's favourite to endure
His first school hardships. We in Holland here

Know 'tis as idle to exclaim against

These state oppressions, as with childish tears

Το weep in the stone, or any other curse

Wherewith God's wrath afflicts us. And for struggling

Why 'twould be like an idiot in the gout
Stamping for pain!

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To break the stillness of the Night,
No vagrant Zephyr wing'd his flight
Along the venerable Grove;
Where, hard by beauteous Isis' stream,
That hastes to her espoused Thame,
In musings lost, I rove;

Invoking oft the Sister Powers,

Bright Guardians of these hallowed towers,
The Powers, that prompt the immortal Song !
"For you I left yon laughing Board

With high-crown'd goblets richly stor'd,
For you yon joyous throng;

*The irregularities, hinted at in these stanzas, written some years ago, have since been much corrected, by wise and recent regulations.

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