 | A book of Bristol sonnets |  |
84
HANNIBAL,
THE LION IN THE CLIFTON ZOOLOGICAL GARDENS.
In grandeur unapproachable he lies—A lion captive,—but a king in chains!
Wild looks of liberty, a prisoner's pains,
With fresh fierce lightnings mingle in his eyes.
Men pass, he holds them in contempt as flies!
The stars to him, what are they but remains
Of those bright wings, that in the forest plains
Lit his night's ravine with their companies?
Tremendous, horrid with thy shock of hair,
They led thee captive to a slavish land!
Our hearts are hedged by custom's barren strand;
Hard profit makes vile peepshow of might's lair;
Mock thunders echo from our coward shore;
But giant, thy grim lips can trumpet forth a roar!
| A book of Bristol sonnets | |