 | The Poetical Works of the Rev. George Croly |  |
32
XXXIV.
Aye; 'twere a lesson worth an age of man,To look upon that council chill and late—
The grand Impostor, now with conscience wan,
Waiting his own, who fix'd an empire's fate;
Sunk to the dust; for terror knows not state.
Round him of glaring visages a cloud,
Like naked passions, shame, ire, horror, hate;
Each taunting each, all on their tempter loud,
All seeing in their steps the scaffold and the shroud.
| The Poetical Works of the Rev. George Croly | |