Which, be it wisdom, coldness, or deep pride, When the whole host of hatred stood hard by, When Fortune fled her spoil'd and favourite child, He stood unbow'd beneath the ills upon him piled! Sager than in thy fortunes; for in them Ambition steel'd thee on too far to show That just habitual scorn which could contemn Men and their thoughts; 'twas wise to feel, not so To wear it ever on thy lip and brow, And spurn the instruments thou wert to use Till they were turned unto thine overthrow : 'Tis but a worthless world to win or lose; So hath it proved to thee, and all such lot who choose. If, like a tower upon a headlong rock, Thou hadst been made to stand or fall alone, Such scorn of man had help'd to brave the shock; But men's thoughts were the steps which paved thy throne, Their admiration thy best weapon shone; The part of Philip's son was thine, not then For sceptred cynics earth were far too wide a den. And there hath been thy bane; there is a fire Beyond the fitting medium of desire; Of aught but rest; a fever at the core, Fatal to him who bears, to all who ever bore. This makes the madmen who have made men mad By their contagion; Conquerors and Kings, Founders of sects and systems, to whom add Sophists, Bards, Statesmen, all unquiet things Which stir too strongly the soul's secret springs, And are themselves the fools to those they fool; Envied, yet how unenviable! what stings Are theirs! One breast laid open were a school Which would unteach mankind the lust to shine or rule: Their breath is agitation, and their life INVOCATION TO NEMESIS. And thou, who never yet of human wrong Had it but been from hands less near-in this Thy former realm, I call thee from the dust! Dost thou not hear my heart ?-Awake! thou shalt, and must. It is not that I may not have incurred The vengeance which shall yet be sought and found, But let that pass-I sleep, but thou shalt yet awake. And if my voice break forth, 'tis not that now Not in the air shall these my words disperse, And pile on human heads the mountain of my curse! That curse shall be Forgiveness.Have I not- Because not altogether of such clay As rots into the souls of those whom I survey. From mighty wrongs to petty perfidy [away? Have I not seen what human things could do? The Janus' glance of whose significant eye, Learning to lie with silence, would seem true, And without utterance, save the shrug or sigh, Deal round to happy fools its speechless obloquy. But I have lived, and have not lived in vain : My mind may lose its force, my blood its fire, And my frame perish even in conquering pain, But there is that within me which shall tire Torture and Time, and breathe when I expire; Something unearthly, which they dream not of, Like the remembered tone of a mute lyre, Shall on their soften'd spirits sink, and move In hearts all rocky now the late remorse of love. NIGHT. It was the night-and Lara's glassy stream The immortal lights that live along the sky? And Innocence would offer to her love. These deck the shore, the waves their channel make You scarce would start to meet a spirit there; NIGHT AT SEA. 'Tis night, when Meditation bids us feel We once have loved, though love is at an end. The heart, lone mourner of its baffled zeal, Though friendless now, will dream it had a friend. Who with the weight of years would wish to bend, When Youth itself survives young Love and Joy? Alas! when mingling souls forget to blend, Death hath but little left him to destroy ! [boy? Oh! happy years! once more who would not be a Thus bending o'er the vessel's laving side, To gaze on Dian's wave-reflected sphere, The soul forgets her schemes of Hope and Pride, A thought, and claims the homage of a tear; A NIGHT SCENE AT THE SIEGE OF CORINTH. 'Tis midnight on the mountains brown : The cold round moon shines deeply down; |