 | The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere |  |
XVIII.
Remember, Italy, thy judged CompeerFrance that before thee trod the ways unblest:
Long since she made her Revolution: rest
She makes not yet, from anguished year to year
Circling through wreck to ruin yet more drear.
‘Make them a wheel!’ Thus prayed, by rebels pressed,
The Prophet-King: how oft, a bitter jest,
That warning haunts the thoughtful patriot's ear!
420
For Freedom's sake the enchanter's cup fling down:
Spurn the base brood that tempt but to betray!
On whom, deceived ones, wage ye war this day?
On that sole King who held his sceptre-staff
Freedom to fence; for man's sake wore his crown.
| The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere | |