Perchance may scarce be wither'd, when the tomb Its joys! oh, mark yon proud triumvir's mien, And all within is shame, is agony ! But there are smiles which bear a stamp of deeper woe. Thy cheek is sunk, and faded as thy fame. To that ascendant and undying name, Pleads with stern loftiness thy right e'en now. Thy glory is departed, but hath left A lingering light around thee-in decay Not less than kingly, though of all bereft, Thou seem'st as empire had not pass'd away. Supreme in ruin! teaching hearts elate, A deep, prophetic dread of still mysterious fate! But thou, enchantress-queen! whose love hath made In all thy sovereignty of charms array'd, To meet the storm with still unconquer'd pride. In thy commanding nature, which shall reign Thine aspect, all impassion'd, wears a light For thou with death hast commun'd, to attain Dread knowledge of the pangs that ransom from the chain. And the stern courage by such inusings lent, Scarce his charm'd heart believes that power can be But there is sadness in the eyes around, Which mark that ruin'd leader, and survey "Yet weep not thus-the struggle is not o'er, How royally your eagle's wing hath spread, Now bursts the tempests on his crested head! Yet sovereign still, if banish'd from the sky, The sun's indignant bird, he must not droop-but die." The feast is o'er. "Tis night, the dead of night- The moon looks cloudless o'er a world of sleep: Wake, slumberers, wake! Hark! heard ye not a sound Its murmur swells. Above, below, around, Bursts a strange chorus forth, confused and shrill. And voices, clamorous as in frenzied mirth, Mingle their thousand tones, which are not of the earth. These are no mortal sounds-their thrilling strain Owns them of stern, terrific augury. Beings of worlds unknown! ye pass away, By that dread sign reveals thy doom-" Despair and die!" |