Slow melting strains their Queen's approach declare: Where'er she turns the Graces homage pay; With arms sublime, that float upon the air, In gliding state she wins her easy way; O'er her warm cheek and rising bosom move The bloom of young Desire and purple light of Love. II. 1 Man's feeble race what ills await: Disease, and Sorrow's weeping train, Say, has he given in vain the heavenly Muse? Her spectres wan, and birds of boding cry, Hyperion's march they spy, and glittering shafts of war. II. 2 In climes beyond the solar road, Where shaggy forms o'er ice-built mountains roam, To cheer the shivering native's dull abode. Of Chili's boundless forests laid, She deigns to hear the savage youth repeat, Their feather-cinctured chiefs and dusky loves. Th' unconquerable Mind, and Freedom's holy flame. II. 3 Woods that wave o'er Delphi's steep, In lingering labyrinths creep, How do your tuneful echoes languish, Murmured deep a solemn sound; Left their Parnassus for the Latian plains: And coward Vice that revels in her chains. When Latium had her lofty spirit lost, III. 1 Far from the sun and summer-gale, Stretched forth his little arms, and smiled. Thine too these golden keys, immortal boy! Of Horror that, and thrilling Fears, III. 2 Nor second he that rode sublime He passed the flaming bounds of Place and Time: The living throne, the sapphire blaze, Where angels tremble while they gaze, He saw; but, blasted with excess of light, Closed his eyes in endless night. Behold where Dryden's less presumptuous car Two coursers of ethereal race, With necks in thunder clothed, and long-resounding pace! III. 3 Hark! his hands the lyre explore: O lyre divine, what daring spirit Through the azure deep of air, Yet shall he mount, and keep his distant way Beyond the limits of a vulgar fate, Beneath the good how far-but far above the great. THE BARD I. 1 Ruin seize thee, ruthless king! Though fanned by conquest's crimson wing, Helm, nor hauberk's twisted mail, Nor even thy virtues, tyrant, shall avail To save thy secret soul from nightly fears, From Cambria's curse, from Cambria's tears!' He wound with toilsome march his long array. Stout Gloucester stood aghast in speechless trance; "To arms!' cried Mortimer, and couched his quivering lance. I. 2 On a rock, whose haughty brow Robed in the sable garb of woe, With haggard eyes the poet stood (Loose his beard and hoary hair Sighs to the torrent's awful voice beneath! I. 3 'Cold is Cadwallo's tongue, Made huge Plinlimmon bow his cloud-topped head: Dear as the light that visits these sad eyes, On yonder cliffs, a grisly band, I see them sit; they linger yet Avengers of their native land: With me in dreadful harmony they join, II. 1 'Weave the warp and weave the woof, The winding-sheet of Edward's race; The characters of hell to trace: Mark the year, and mark the night, When Severn shall re-echo with affright The shrieks of death through Berkley's roofs that ring, She-wolf of France, with unrelenting fangs, That tear'st the bowels of thy mangled mate, The scourge of Heaven: what terrors round him Amazement in his van, with Flight combined, And Sorrow's faded form, and Solitude behind. II. 2 'Mighty victor, mighty lord! Low on his funeral couch he lies: A tear to grace his obsequies. Is the Sable Warrior fled? Thy son is gone; he rests among the dead. Fair laughs the morn and soft the zephyr blows, Youth on the prow, and Pleasure at the helm, Regardless of the sweeping Whirlwind's sway, That, hushed in grim repose, expects his evening prey. II. 3 Fill high the sparkling bowl, The rich repast prepare; Reft of a crown, he yet may share the feast: Close by the regal chair Fell Thirst and Famine scowl Lance to lance, and horse to horse? Long years of havoc urge their destined course, way. Ye towers of Julius, London's lasting shame, Twined with her blushing foe, we spread: |