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I marked the breathings of her dragon crest; My Soul, a sorrowful Interpreter,

In many a midnight vision bowed

Before the ominous aspect of her spear;
Whether the mighty Beam, in scorn upheld,

Threatened her foes,

or, pompously at rest,

Seemed to bisect her orbèd shield,

As stretches a blue bar of solid cloud

Across the setting Sun, and through the fiery West.


So did she daunt the Earth, and God defy! And, wheresoe'er she spread her sovereignty, Pollution tainted all that was most pure.

Have we not known and live we not to tell
That Justice seemed to hear her final knell?
Faith buried deeper in her own deep breast
Her stores, and sighed to find them insecure!
And Hope was maddened by the drops that fell
From shades, her chosen place of short-lived rest:
Shame followed shame and woe supplanted woe
Is this the only change that time can show?

How long shall vengeance sleep? Ye patient Heavens, how long?

Infirm ejaculation! from the tongue
Of Nations wanting virtue to be strong
Up to the measure of accorded might,
And daring not to feel the majesty of right!


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Weak Spirits are there who would ask
Upon the pressure of a painful thing,
The Lion's sinews, or the Eagle's wing;
Or let their wishes loose, in forest glade,
Among the lurking powers

Of herbs and lowly flowers,

Or seek, from Saints above, miraculous aid;
That Man may be accomplished for a task
Which his own Nature hath enjoined
and why?
If, when that interference hath relieved him,
He must sink down to languish

In worse than former helplessness - and lie
Till the caves roar, - and, imbecility

Again engendering anguish,

The same weak wish returns, that had before deceived him.


But Thou, Supreme Disposer! may'st not speed

The course of things, and change the creed,

Which hath been held aloft before Men's sight

Since the first framing of societies,

Whether, as Bards have told in ancient song,
Built up by soft seducing harmonies;

Or prest together by the appetite,

And by the power, of wrong!

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A ROMAN Master stands on Grecian ground,

And to the Concourse of the Isthmian Games
He, by his Herald's voice, aloud proclaims
THE LIBERTY OF GREECE: the words rebound
Until all voices in one voice are drowned;
Glad acclamation by which air was rent!
And birds, high flying in the element,
Dropped to the earth, astonished at the sound!
A melancholy Echo of that noise

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Doth sometimes hang on musing Fancy's ear:
Ah! that a Conqueror's word should be so dear:
Ah! that a boon could shed such rapturous joys!
A gift of that which is not to be given

By all the blended powers of Earth and Heaven.

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WHEN, far and wide, swift as the beams of morn
The tidings passed of servitude repealed,

And of that joy which shook the Isthmian Field,
The rough Ætolians smiled with bitter scorn.
""Tis known," cried they, "that he, who would adorn
His envied temples with the Isthmian Crown,
Must either win, through effort of his own,
The prize, or be content to see it worn
By more deserving brows. Yet so ye prop,
Sons of the Brave who fought at Marathon!
Your feeble Spirits. Greece her head hath bowed,
As if the wreath of Liberty thereon

Would fix itself as smoothly as a cloud,

Which, at Jove's will, descends on Pelion's top."

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CLARKSON! it was an obstinate Hill to climb:
How toilsome-nay, how dire it was, by Thee
Is known, by none, perhaps, so feelingly;
But Thou, who, starting in thy fervent prime,
Didst first lead forth this pilgrimage sublime,
Hast heard the constant Voice its charge repeat,
Which, out of thy young heart's oracular seat,
First roused thee. - O true yoke-fellow of Time
With unabating effort, see, the palm

Is won, and by all Nations shall be worn!
The bloody Writing is for ever torn,

And Thou henceforth shalt have a good Man's calm,
A great Man's happiness; thy zeal shall find

Repose. at length, firm Friend of human kind!


HIGH deeds, O Germans, are to come from you!
Thus in your Books the record shall be found,
"A Watchword was pronounced, a potent sound,
ARMINIUS! all the people quaked like dew

Stirred by the breeze

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they rose, a Nation, true,

True to herself - the mighty Germany,

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She of the Danube and the Northern sea,
She rose, and off at once the yoke she threw.
All power was given her in the dreadful trance;
Those new-born Kings she withered like a flame."
- Woe to them all! but heaviest woe and shame
To that Bavarian who did first advance
His banner in accursed league with France,
First open Traitor to a sacred name!


CLOUDS, lingering yet, extend in solid bars
Through the grey west; and lo! these waters, steeled
By breezeless air to smoothest polish, yield

A vivid repetition of the stars;

Jove-Venus and the ruddy crest of Mars,
Amid his fellows beauteously revealed

At happy distance from earth's groaning field,
Where ruthless mortals wage incessant wars.
'Is it a mirror? or the nether sphere
Opening to view the abyss in which it feeds

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Its own calm fires? But list! a voice is near;
Great Pan himself low-whispering through the reeds,
"Be thankful, thou; for, if unholy deeds
Ravage the world, tranquillity is here!"

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