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"T were doubt if that dark form could truly feel, Or were indeed a shape and soul of steel.

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And next came one all trim in fearful grace
And tall majestic symmetry of war,
Musquet and bayonet flashing bright and far;
Deliberate valour in his slow firm pace,
And scorn of death-him at the portal arch
Saluted blithe old Frederick's bugle march.
Heavy his charge-of lordly King bow'd down
In his own royal city to the frown

Of the base minion to a despot's hate-*
Then blanch'd the Soldier's bronzed and furrow'd

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The next like some old Baron's lordly son


Bore what a rich imperial crown had been,
But from its stars the pride of light was gone;
The joy of vengeance on that warrior's mien
Was chasing the red hues of ancient shame
Not of Marengo's fair-fought field he told,
Nor the wide waves of blood huge Danube roll'd;
But him that in strong Ulm play'd that foul
Bartering his country and his soul for gold:
And that fair royal Maid, by battle won


Like thing that hath nor will nor sense, and borne
A bright and beauteous trophy to adorn
The brittle grandeur of an upstart's throne.

Next came a stately Lady, once was she
Queen of the Nations: of her despot sway
Earth boasted, every flood and every sea

Water'd her tributary realms, and day
Rose only on her empire: now it seem'd
That she had cast her cumbrous crown away

To slumber in her vales that basking lie
In the luxurious azure of her sky;

On Saint or Virgin, such as Raphael dream'd,
In almost blameless fond idolatry,

Alluding to a governor being set over the King of Prussia in Berlin.



Speechless to gaze, and bow the adoring knee;
In the soul's secret chambers to prolong
The rapturous ravishment of harp and song.
Music was in her steps, and all her eye
Was dark and eloquent with ecstasy.

Crested hereditary pride; his arms

Were dark and dinted by rude battle's brunt:
Of Sovereign young he spake, by wizard charms
Of hollow smiling treachery from the throne
Of two fair worlds to felon durance lured,
And some rude islander's soul-groveling son
A King in narrow prison walls immured;
Set up to be a princely nation's Lord :-

While of coarse taunting outrage he 'gan speak,

But then the Spaniard with fierce brow and bright

Brandish'd the cloudy flaming of his sword;

Full was his soul of Zaragoza's fight,

To her the beautiful, the delicate,
The queenly, but too gentle for a Queen-
But in sweet pride upon that insult keen
She smiled
And the high Pyrenean snows o'erleap'd,
then drooping mute, though broken- And other Pavias with Frank carnage heap'd.
To the cold comfort of the grave departed.

Rapine her charge of Florence' princely halls,
And that fall'n Empress by old Tiber's side
Reft of the sole sad relics of her pride;

For the iron conqueror ravish'd from her walls
Those shapes that in their breathing colours warm
In tall arcade or saintly chapel lived,

And all wherein the soul of Greece survived
The more than human of each marble form.

Of the proud bridegroom of the Adrian Sea,
Once like his bride magnificent and free,
Sunk to a bond-slave's desperate apathy.

And him the Holiest deem'd, the chosen of God,
Beneath an earthly lord bow'd down to kiss the rod.
And next came one, the bravery of whose front

The brother of his wrongs and of his wrath
Was with him in the triumph of his path.
He of his exile Prince 'gan loudly boast;

To be a sceptred slave, a pageant King,
He scorn'd, and on his fleet bark's gallant wing
For kingly freedom the wild ocean crost.

Whom saw I then in port and pride a Queen,
Come walking o'er her own obsequious sea?
I knew thee well, the valiant, rich, and free-
As when old Rome, her Roman virtue tame,
Gazed, when in arms that bold Dictator came;
With the iron ransom of her Capitol

Startled to flight the fierce insulting Gaul-
Camillus of mankind! thy regal mien
Gladden'd all earth; the nations from their rest
Joyful upleap'd: with modest front elate,
Like one that hath proud conscience in her breast,
Thou brakest the blank silence-"Woe and hate
To this bad man for those my good and great,
That sleep amid the Spaniard's mountains rude

In the sad beauty of the hero's fate.
To this bad man immortal gratitude,

For he hath taught, who slaves the free of earth
Fettereth the whirlwind: hath given glorious birth

To deeds that dwarf my old majestic fame,
Make BLAKE and MARLBOROUGH languid sound
and tame

TO NELSON and that Chief to whom defeat
Is like an undiscover'd star-hath shown

More than the Macedonian victories vain To rivet on the earth the Oppressor's chain : As little will yon Sun's empyrean throne Endure a mortal seat, as this wide globe

Be one man's appanage; or my fair isle, That precious gem in ocean's azure robe, Cast Freedom's banner down, by force or guile Master'd, and forfeit earth's renown and love, And her bright visions of high meed above." Then all at once did from all earth arise Fierce imprecations on that man of sin; And all the loaded winds came heavy in With exultations and with agonies. From the lone coldness of the widow's bed, The feverish pillow of the orphan's head, From dying men earth's woful valleys heaping, From smouldering cities in their ashes sleeping, Like the hoarse tumbling of a torrent flood Mingled the dismal concord-" blood for blood." But then arose a faded shape and pale,

Once had she been a peerless princely dame; Downcast her grace of grief; she seem'd to veil The mournful beauty of her face for shame. And is this she whose sprightly laughing mirth Was like the blithe spring on the festal earth; Aye dancing at the moonlight close of day, 'Mid purple vineyards, graceful, light, and gay; Or in high pomp and gallant pride of port Holding rich revel in her gorgeous court?—

Abrupt her speech and wild-"When I 'gan wake
From that my sleep of madness, all around
Of human blood a broad and livid lake

Was in my splendid cities; mound on mound
Rose peopled with my noble princely dead:

And o'er them the fell anarch, Murther, stood
Grimly reposing in his weary mood-

I turn'd, all trembling turn'd, my guilty head:
There humankind had leagued their arms of dread
'Gainst the Blasphemer of fair Freedom's name,
Heaven gave no hope, for heaven I dared disclaim.

"High in the flaming car of Victory riding, From Alp to Alp his chamois warriors guiding The peril of wild Lodi's arch bestriding,

I saw yon Chieftain in his morn of fame; Cities and armies at his beck sank down, And in the gaudy colours of renown

The fabling Orient vested his young nam The bright and baleful Meteor I adored, Low bow'd I down, and said-'Be thou my Lord!' Like old and ruinous towers, the ancient thrones Crumbled, and dynasties of elder time; The banners of my conquest-plumed sons

Flouted the winds of many a distant clime: On necks of vanquish'd kings I fix'd my seat, And the broad Rhine roll'd vassal at my feet.

Thrice did the indignant Nations league their might,
Thrice the red darkness of the battle night
Folded the recreant terror of their flight.
Realms sack'd and ravaged empires sooth'd my toils,
And Satrap Chiefs were Monarchs from my spoils.
In solitude of freedom that rich Queen
Sate in her sanctity of waves serene.

From cliff and beach, dominion in their motion,
I saw her stately navies' broad array,
Like jealous lords at watch, that none but they
Adulterate with their fair majestic ocean.

And cries I heard like frenzy and dismay Of NELSON, NELSON deepening on their way. But what to me though red the western deep

With other fires than of the setting sun? And what to me though round Trafalgar's steep

My haughty pennon'd galleys, one by one, Come rolling their huge wrecks on the waves' sweep! Go rule thy brawling and tumultuous sea, Briton, but leave the servile earth to me. And what to me though in my dungeons deep

By this new Charlemagne dark deeds were doneWill the stones start and babble to the sun How that bold Briton Wright, and Pichegru sleep!

At noon of night I heard the drum of death,
Like evil spirits on the blasted heath

By the drear torchlight iron men were met.
The mockery of justice soon was past;

Again the drum its dismal warning beat: Then flashing musquets deathful lustre cast A moment on the victim; he sedate In calm disdain of even a felon's fate, His royal breast bared to the soldier's mark, Seeming to pity with his steady sight Those poor mechanic murderers-then 't was dark, All but yon crown'd Assassin's visage bright, Who waved his torch in horrible delight. O blood of Condé! could thy spirit rest In thy tame country's cold ungrateful breast?

Yet in my drunkenness of pride I mock'd
Mean crimes that would a petty tyrant shame,
For still in glory's cradle was I rock'd,

Mine eagle eyrie crown'd the steep of fame. Nought heeded I, that the proud Son of Spain, Like a fierce courser that has burst his chain, Shook the base slavery from his floating mane, And that new British Arthur's virgin shield Won its rich blazon on Vimeira's field.

For lo, my cities throw their portals wide;
Gorgeous my festal streets, as when of old
The monarchs met upon the plain of gold-
Lo, on my throne a bright and royal bride.
Vain all my pomp, imperial beauty vain
The reveller in battles to restrain.

And at his word, as at the fabled wand
Of old magician, from the teeming land,

Myriad on myriad, harness'd warriors rise; The earth was darken'd with excess of light,

Line after line, insufferably bright;
The black artillery, in their cloudy might,
Impious defiance lanch'd against the skies.
With tamer sounds did that wild Heathen* vaunt
Amid his thund'rous heavens high Jove to daunt.
Day after day I saw their pomp depart;
Then said the haughty frenzy of my heart,
When o'er this world thy victor wheels are driven,
Wilt thou go vanquish the bright stars of Heaven?

And lo, the rival nations hurrying
To crowd beneath my passing eagle's wing;
Lo, 'mong my captains many a sceptred king.

A solitary sound-no pomp of war
One dastard pale accomplice of his flight,

He comes, whom earth, and all earth's sons obey,
The peerless and the paragon of might;

The pinnace of the Persian runaway Was glory to his lone and hurrying car.

I ask'd for those in fight, in triumph tried,
The partners of his peril and his pride.
He, in a tyrant's mockery of my woe,
Bade me go seek them in the Scythian snow.
Then felt I what a pitiful tame slave

Was I, who vaunted me mankind's sole queen,
The satellite of one man's wayward spleen-
The remnant of my fair, my young, my brave,
Were rent once more to forge the adamant chain

Burst by the nations, who with one accord
Shook the bright vengeance of the freeman's

Another year-and the broad Rhine again
Shrouded the sceptred fugitive's pale train,
Then turn'd a rebel, roll'd her free waves to the main.
And now the banners of the embattled world
Their folds of vengeance on my vales unfurl'd.
Oh, bloody was the evening of thine ire,
Thou gorgeous comet of disastrous fire!

Earth lifted up her rich face to rejoice,
The bright blue heavens bade wintry warring cease,

Now, now the northern skies are all on fire
As with some mighty Empire's funeral pyre!
Why bring they not proud Catherine's trophies home? And spring came dancing o'er a world at peace.
I hear the sound of wheels-They come, they come.'

I wont to see, as from some quiet star,
Deluging slaughter this fair earth o'erwhelm,
On the rich bosom of my sunny realm
Gave quarry to the ravening dogs of war.

For yon dark chief of woe, and guilt, and strife,
O sceptred judges! punish him with life.
Fear not he seek with the old Roman pride,
"That weakness to the noble soul allied,
To die as Cato, and as Brutus died.


Fear not that in his abject heart he show
That martyr fortitude, that smiles in woe.
By him shall that great secret be betray'd,
Of what poor stuff are earth's dread tyrants made.
Oh, let him live to be despised, to see
France happy, and the glorious nations free;
Death were delight to that deep misery!"—

Then did that kingly conclave, with one voice,
Pass the dread sentence on the gloomy man;
In his soul's icy deadness he alone

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By others' woes seem'd harden'd to his own.
From land to land the penal tidings ran;


At simul ac Phrygiæ campos, Priameia regna,
Conspicit, et Graiæ latè loca conscia fama
Gramineosque ducum tumulos, subit undique Achivum
Gloria et adversis bellantia numina in armis,
Et Lacedæmoniâ sævæ pro conjuge clades.
Omne igitur lustrare juvat, quod mente dolores
Iliacos renovet, Danaumque resuscitet iras.
Spumeus hic Xanthus nemorosâ pronus ab Idâ,
Non galeas, non scuta virûm, sed proruta saxa
Arboreosque rapit violento flumine truncos.
Hic, ubi luxuriat flaventi campus aristâ,
Laomedonteum fuit Ilion, undique nullæ
Reliquiæ apparent muri, fractave columnæ,
Oblita non musco viridanti saxa, Pelasgi
Usque adeo miseras Troja invidere ruinas.
Rhæteasque procul rupes, tumulumque capacem,
Ajacis, vastâ elatum super æquora mole

But mercy shone upon the merciless!
Strong but to save and valiant but to bless,
No ruthless Cæsars clad in blood and flame,
Royal in virtue the Avengers came.
Those whom I spoil'd, no spoilers came to me,

I said, 'Be slave, O earth!" but they-O France, be Cernere erat-sed nulla quies-sed fervidus Heros


Stare loco nescit, flagratque cupidine pugnæ.
Devenit at tandem, Sigeo ubi littore collis
Eminet apricus, quem suavè olentia circum
Serpylla, et viridi cingunt dumeta corona.
Hunc et Abydenus sea mollem navita Leshon,
Pampineamve Chion, Samiæve altaria Divæ
Invisit, radiante orientis lumine solis
Prospicit ardentem, remoque acclinis, Homeri


JAM puer Emathius Thebarum nigra favillâ
Mania, Cadmeamque arcem, jam Palladis urbem
Immemorem famæ, pronamque in jussa tyranni
Fregerat; at victas gentes partosque triumphos
Spernit atrox animi, et pacem fastidit inertem.
Europes angusta pati confinia nescit
Mentito soboles Jove non indigna, novumque
Poscit in arma orbem; jam transilit Hellespontum,
Purpureique Asiæ proceres atque agmina regum,
Sceptrigeri quotquot stipant Babylonia Medi
Atria, Grajugenûm horrescunt nota arma virorum,
Myrmidonumque graves, fatalia tela, sarissas,
Confertos clypeos, inconcussamque phalangen.—

Suave aliquod carmen secum meditatur, et hæret Ingentem tumulum, et Manes veneratus Achillis.

Qualis Mæonii divino in carmine vatis
Stat torvus vultu, et cœlestibus horret in armis,
Fulmineosque agitat currus sublimis, et unum
Hectora, per trepidas unum petit Hectora turmas:
Haud aliter cæcâ acides tellure videtur,
Ceu lituo fremituque armorum excitus amato,
Tollere se, juvenique ingens gratarier umbra.
Hunc videt, et viso gaudet, quin totus inani
Figitur in specie, quamque ipse effinxerat umbram
Esse putat veram, mutoque immobilis ore
Stat Macedo; ast Asiæ fines atque ultimus orbis
Sentit Alexandri requiem, tardataque fata.

Tum lecti comites instaurant sacra, et odori
Rite coronatis fumant altaribus ignes.
Fervet opus, latices pars vivo e fonte, Lyæo
Immistos roseo, sinceraque flumina lactis
Auratis libant pateris, pars florea, circum
Serta, et odoriferos dispergunt veris honores.
Quin et gramineam niveus mactatur ad aram
Taurus, et humectat sacratam sanguine arenam.

At procul Idæo spectat de vertice pompam
Turba Phrygum, mistaque irâ et formidine mussat,
Hos novus angit honos et adhuc invisus Achilles.
Atque aliqua in trepida mater stat mosta catervâ
Andromachen animo reputans, Ithacique cruentâ
Astyanacta manu dejectum manibus altis,
Dilectumque premit pavefacta ad pectora natum.
Stat virgo, mœstosque fovet sub corde timores,
Ne nova materno direpta Polyxena collo
Placet Achilleos infando sanguine Manes.

At Rex Emathius nodosa innititur hasta Majestate minax, tacitâ, ceu numine plenus Fatidico vates, e pectore protinus amens Excutit ille Deum, pulcher furor occupat ora, Terror inest oculis, procerior emicat ingens Forma viri, fluitant agitatæ in casside crista.

"Me quoque, me," clamat, "belli post mille labores,
Post fractas urbes, post regna hâc proruta dextrâ
Ultima cantabit tellus, gens nulla silebit
Nomen Alexandri, sobolemque fatebitur Hammon.
Te, magne acida, decimus te viderit annus
Iliacas arces et debita Pergama fatis
Oppugnantem armis, me Sol mirabitur ire
Victorem, cursuqué suos prævertere currus.
Jam Susa, et præclara auro niveoque elephanto
Ecbatana, et frustra patriorum ope freta Deorum
Persepolis (tristes inhiant ceu nubibus atris
Agricolæ dubii quos fulmine proterat agros
Jupiter) expectant ruiturum in mœnia Martem;
Servitium quibus una salus, quibus ultima et una est
Gloria Alexandri dextrâ meruisse ruinam.
Adsum ego, jam Babylon æratus pandere portas
Festinat, patiturque superbo flumine pontem
Euphrates, Graiùmque minax strepit ungula equorum,
Et Larissens super ardua monia currus;
Quo ferus Hystaspes, quo tramite Cyrus adegit

Quadrijugos, Lydoque equitavit fulgidus auro,
Et non fœmineis animosa Semiramis armis.
Deinde coloratos, qualis Jovis ales, ad Indos,
Et matutinæ rosea incunabula lucis
Deferor, auriferos Macedo bibit impiger amnes.
Atque ubi Pellæis tellus jam deficit armis,
Nec superest nostro gens non indigna triumpho,
Unus Alexander victo dominabitur orbi.

Jamque procul Martis strepitus, jam pervenit aures Ferrea vox belli, jam dira ad prælia Medus Aureus accingit galeam gladiumque coruscat Impatiens fati, et Graiæ vim provocat ultro Cuspidis, ardentique superbit barbarus ostroNon æquas, Darie, malo petis omine pugnas! Ibat ovans ferrum Argolicis flammasque carinis Insanâ virtute ferens Priameius Hector. Illum ergo Illiacæ rediturum vespere sero Speravere nurus, Pelide cæde madentem Atque Agamemnonios agitantem ad Pergama currus. Speravere diu-crines procul ille venustos Formosumque caput fœdabat pulvere in atro Sordidus, Argivisque dabat ludibria nautis.

Tartareas fauces reserabit et horrida claustra
Rex Erebi, utque meam videat coram invidus hastam,
Myrmidonumque feros referentia bella parentes,
Ad superas ingentem auras emittit Achillem.
Ille mihi pugnas inter fremitumque, furoremque
Addit se comitem, et curru famulatur ovanti.
Vidi egomet, nisi vana oculos illusit imago,
Spicula crispantem, atque minaci cassida fronte,
Nutantem, quæ luce vagos tremefecit ahenâ
Priamidas, nigrumque auratis Memnona bigis.
Vidi egomet, neque vana fides, atroque sub Orco
Immortalem animam tangit laus sera nepotum,
Famaque Tartareis sonat haud ingrata sub umbris.
Felix Eacida! tacitas inglorius îsses
Ad sedes Erebi, cæcâque oblivia nocte

Invida pressissent nomen, quod barbarus Istri
Potor, et Herculeis gens si qua admota columnis
Novit, et Æthiopes non æquo Sole calentes.
At tibi Mæonides, seu quis Deus, aurea Olympi
Regna procul linquens, cæci senis induit ora,
Et plus quàm mortale melos, bellumque, tumultum-

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que Infremuit, divina tuæ præconia laudis, Æternumque dedit viridem frondescere famam.


Et nobis quandoque dabunt hæc ultima dona Dii, quibus Emathium decus et mea gloria curæ. Exoriare aliquis, nostrum qui nomen, Homerus, Pellaosque feras ad sæcula sera triumphos, Exoriare, novus plectro non deerit Achilles.”—

Hæc fatus, clypeo fremuit, dirosque dedere

ra sonos, quassisque armis exercitus omnis Intonuere, simul nemorosa remugiit Ida. Quos sonitus, Granice, tuum ad fatale fluentum. Persarumque acies et pictis Medus in armis Agnovere procul, solio Darius eburno Exsiluit, fatique pavens præsagia iniqui Non audituro fudit vota irrita cœlo.

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This is the hand that forged on Ganges' shore
The Indians' empire; by Orontes set

The royal tiar the Assyrian wore;

Hung jewels on the brow of Babylon,

By Tigris wreath'd the Persian's coronet,

And at the Macedonian's foot bow'd every throne. It was my lavish gift,

The triumph and the song

Around the youth of Pella loud uplift,
When he through Asia swept along,
A torrent swift and strong;
With me, with me the Conqueror ran
To where the Sun his golden course began;
And the high Monarch left on earth
A faith unquestion'd of his heavenly birth;


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