 | Erato, number II |  |
II.
Methought an empire, old,And vast, and populous,
Was, on a sudden, of its king deprived;
And busy Faction, stalking o'er the land,
Shouted that a new age had come, and now
New forms of government, new men, new laws,
Must supersede the old. His trumpet-tongue
Soon call'd the peasant from his healthful plough:
The laborer dropp'd his hod; the artisan
7
And lords, and rights divine, and liberty,
Republics, and elections; and so on:
Ambition, Ignorance, and Craft, were loud
In praising these, and in condemning those.
All talk'd, some argued, but few understood.
Day after day, and week pass'd after week:
Men hurried through the streets, scarce knowing why,
Or where their steps were bent; neglecting quite
Their business, and in large and anxious groups
Gathering, and talking of—they scarce knew what.
But Faction's clamorous tongue was never still;
And Anarchy, with wild and callous step,
Was trampling ancient usages, and laws,
And well-tried institutions, to the earth.
Carnage and Blood appeared upon the stage,
And universal Chaos closed the scene.
| Erato, number II | |