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He nothing common did or mean
But with his keener eye
The axe's edge did try; Nor call'd the Gods, with vulgar spite, To vindicate his helpless right;
But bow'd his comely head
Down, as upon a bed. - This was that memorable hour Which first assured the forced power :
So when they did design
The Capitol's first line, A Bleeding Head, where they begun, Did fright the architects to run ;
And yet in that the State
Foresaw its happy fate ! And now the Irish are ashamed To see themselves in one year tamed :
So much one man can do
That does both act and know. They can affirm his praises best, And have, though overcome, confest
How good he is, how just
And fit for highest trust. Nor yet grown stiffer with command, But still in the Republic's hand
How fit he is to sway
That can so well obey !
And (what he may) forbears
His fame, to make it theirs :
So when the falcon high
She, having kill'd, no more doth search
Where, when he first does lure,
The falconer has her sure.
What may not others fear
If thus he crowns each year ?
And to all States not free
Shall climacteric be.
But from this valour sad
Shrink underneath the plaid-
Nor lay his hounds in near
The Caledonian deer.
And for the last effect
Still keep the sword erect :
The same arts that did gain
Shatter your leaves before the mellowing year.
Begin then, Sisters of the sacred well
For we were nursed upon the self-same hill,
wheel. Meanwhile the rural ditties were not mute, Temper'd to the oaten fute, Rough Satyrs danced, and Fauns with cloven heel From the glad sound would not be absent long ; And old Damoetas loved to hear our song.
But, oh! the heavy change, now thou art gone, Now thou art gone, and never must return ! Thee, Shepherd, thee the woods and desert caves With wild thyme and the gadding vine o'ergrown, And all their echoes, mourn : The willows and the hazel copses green Shall now no more be seen Fanning their joyous leaves to thy soft lays :
As killing as the canker to the rose,
Where were ye, Nymphs, when the remorseless deep
Alas! what boots it with uncessant care
O fountain Arethuse, and thou honour'd flood Smooth-sliding Mincius, crown'd with vocal reeds, That strain I heard was of a higher mood. But now my oat proceeds, And listens to the herald of the sea That came in Neptune's plea ; He ask'd the waves, and ask'd the felon winds, What hard mishap hath doom’d this gentle swain? And question'd every gust of rugged wings That blows from off each beakéd promontory : They knew not of his story ; And sage Hippotades their answer brings, That not a blast was from his dungeon stray'd; The air was calm, and on the level brine Sleck Panopé with all her sisters play'd. It was that fatal and perfidious bark Built in the eclipse, and rigg'd with curses dark, That sunk so low that sacred head of thine.
Next Camus, reverend sire, went footing slow, His mantle hairy, and his bonnet sedge Inwrought with figures dim, and on the edge Like to that sanguine flower inscribed with woe : * Ah! who hath reft,' quoth he, “my dearest pledge !! Last came, and last did go The Pilot of the Galilean lake ; Two massy keys he bore of metals twain (The golden opes, the iron shuts amain); He shook his mitred locks, and stern bespake : "How well could I have spared for thee, young swain, Enow of such, as for their bellies' sake Creep and intrude and climb into the fold ! Of other care they little reckoning make Than how to scramble at the shearers' feast, And shove away the worthy bidden guest. Blind mouths ! that scarce themselves know how to
hold A sheep-hook, or have learn’d aught else the least That to the faithful herdman's art belongs ! What recks it them? What need they? They are
sped; And when they list, their lean and flashy songs