Poems :: :: University of Virginia Library

And does yon haughty empire prostrate bow?
The world's dread queen in vulgar ruins lie?
Must she disrob'd her lordly state forego?
Who liv'd in glory, now inglorious die?

II

See headlong from his throne the tyrant hurl'd!
Shatter'd his strength, and crush'd his iron rod;
Unpitying once who taught the states to groan,
Now droops himself, the just avenger God.

III

Eas'd of her load, around the smiling earth
Leaps up, and sings thro' all her peaceful plains;
Well suit the sprightly song, the boundless mirth,
For peace returns, for sacred freedom reigns.

IV

Where Libanus uplifts his stately brow,
Secure the cedar smiles, and vaunting cries,
Beneath thy stroke the woods no longer bow,
The spoiler's hand in earth enfeebled lies.

V

At thine approach I hear a solemn sound,
For hades trembles thro' each silent tomb;
Dead tyrants quit their thrones, and all around
Flock in black troops, and triumph at thy doom.

VI

Art thou, too, brother, come, each tyrant cries,
Spoil'd of thy strength, and humbled in thy pride?
With hollow ghastly looks, and sightless eyes,
Brother in guilt, and now by death allied?

VII

Where now the crowd, that once compos'd thy train,
The trumpets clangour, and the softer lyre?
Night, deep as hades, darkens all the plain,
And silence reigns around, and horrors dire.

VIII

Yet not alone thou tread'st those dreary climes:
See round thy corse the busy vermin stray!
How do they riot on thy mangled limbs!
Thy covering they; thyself the hapless prey!

IX

Son of the morn, pride of the lucid train;
No more shall rise again thy splendid star!
How art thou fall'n, whose unrelenting chain
Dragg'd vassal nations trembling at thy car!

X

Once thou could'st boast, I'll scale the lofty skies,
And from the mountain of God's presence frown;
Ev'n where the bear in awful distance lies,
There will I fix secure my stately throne.

XI

Beneath my feet the stars shall soon be prest;
I'll rule, a God, amidst the frozen pole;
Touch'd by my hand th' obedient earth shall rest;
Or its gay course in peaceful order roll.

XII

Where now thy mighty works, proud boaster, where?
Death's iron hand has clos'd thy wretched eyes;
Death's iron hand has thrust thee down, and there
In the low pit the prostrate tyrant lies.

XIII

Haply some future traveller here may stray,
And view thy carcase on the pathless shore,
In speechless gaze; but when, on near survey,
Thy well-known features he shall ponder o'er,

XIV

Straight will he say, Is this th' heroic man?
Slumbers the wondering world's dread spoiler here?
Terror and rout mov'd foremost in his van;
And carnage with destruction clos'd his rear.

XV

The necks of kings, that never knew to yield,
Bow'd to his yoke, and wore his rigorous chain;
And, while rude slaughter ravag'd o'er the field,
How did he trample over nations slain!

XVI

Princes and tyrants, and the powerful trains
That lead their battles, not inglorious die;
Some pitying honours grace their last remains,
And with their sires in peaceful state they lie!

XVII

Yet were to thee the last sad rites unpaid;
The meaner boon of common earth denied;
Thrust from the chambers of the mighty dead,
Low lies thy head, to vulgar dust allied.

XVIII

By thee depress'd, thy wretched country sigh'd,
By thee depress'd, thy nearer blood complain'd:
While all around the captive nations cried,
“Dire was the day when first the tyrant reign'd.”

XIX

Nor yet to thee shall vengeance be confin'd;
Thy guiltless sons shall bear the father's shame;
One common ruin shall o'erwhelm thy kind,
Left future triumph raise thy sinking name.

XX

Thou haughty city, hear th' Almighty swear,
From fame's unsullied roll thou soon shalt die;
Thy kindred, too, thine infamy shall share,
Inglorious live, and soon forgotten lie.

XXI

Where Babylon now lifts her towering pride,
There beasts shall howl, and lonesome birds complain;
Her head in ruin whelm'd she soon shall hide,
Shall soon appear one stagnant marshy plain.

XXII

Hear Israel's God the dread decree relate,
And sacred shall Jehovah's counsel be;
His thought is order, and his word is fate,
And stands an everlasting boundary.

XXIII

Soon on my mount I lift mine arm on high,
Headlong will hurl th' Assyrian tyrant down;
Eas'd of their yoke, no more the states shall sigh,
Eas'd of their yoke, no more my people groan.

XXIV

Jehovah speaks; and what superior power
His word, once uttered, knows to render vain?
He lifts his arm:—What mortal may restore
The monarch's strength, and God's right hand restrain?