« ՆախորդըՇարունակել »
And Earth hath spilt her blood for him,
Who thus can hoard his own! And Monarchs bow'd the trembling limb,
And thank'd him for a throne ! Fair Freedom ! we may hold thee dear, When thus thy mightiest foes their fear
In humblest guise have shown. Oh! ne'er may tyrant leave behind A brighter name to lure mankind !
Thine evil deeds are writ in gore,
Nor written thus in vain-
Or deepen every stain-
To shame the world again
Weigh’d in the balance, hero dust
Is vile as vulgar clay;
To all that pass away;
But yet methought the living great
To dazzle and dismay;
And she, proud Austria's mournful flower,
Thy still imperial bride;
Still clings she to thy side ?
Thou throneless Homicide ?
Then haste thee to thy sullen Isle,
It ne'er was ruled by thee!
That Earth is now as free!
15. Thou Timour! in his captive's cage (5)
What thoughts will there be thine, While brooding in thy prison'd rage?
But one-" The world was mine:”
Life will not long confine
Or like the thief of fire from heaven, (6)
Wilt thou withstand the shock ? And share with him, the unforgiven,
His vulture and his rock! Foredoom'd by God-by man accurst, And that last act, though not thy worst, The very
Fiend's arch mock;(7) He in his fall preserved his pride, And, if a mortal, had as proudly died !
ODE TO NAPOLEON BUONAPARTE.
Note 1, page 40, line 16.
The rapture of the strife. Certaminis gaudia, the expression of Attila in his harangue to his army, previous to the battle of Chalons, given in Cassiodorus.
Note 2, page 41, line 10.
Note 3, page 41, line 19.
Note 4, page 42, line 6.
Note 5, page 15, line 1.