 | Naked Genius |  |
ALEXANDER THE GREAT.
VAIN PRIDE.
From Pride's imperial mount,
He cast his perspicacious eyes,
With schemes to wondrous to account;
He tries to swim the elysian fount,
But stabs himself and dies.
No eye is given,
Below the heaven,
To trace him where he flies.
He cast his perspicacious eyes,
With schemes to wondrous to account;
He tries to swim the elysian fount,
100
No eye is given,
Below the heaven,
To trace him where he flies.
Where is the sun of pride?
Where has the bird of glory fled?
His plume was bright, but soon was shed,
He flapped his wing and died;
His schemes of old,
Have not been told,
In vain the wits have tried.
Where has the bird of glory fled?
His plume was bright, but soon was shed,
He flapped his wing and died;
His schemes of old,
Have not been told,
In vain the wits have tried.
His gaudy race is run,
No more to boast his thousands slain,
Nor ride the sanguinary plain,
And boast booty won;
Thus in disgrace,
He closed his race,
And sighed to beat the sun.
No more to boast his thousands slain,
Nor ride the sanguinary plain,
And boast booty won;
Thus in disgrace,
He closed his race,
And sighed to beat the sun.
His fields in smiles arrayed,
He knows no more, reposed in gloom;
His bones are cloistered in the tomb,
With all his frame decayed;
His conquering power,
Forbears to tower,
To death and worms betray'd.
He knows no more, reposed in gloom;
His bones are cloistered in the tomb,
With all his frame decayed;
His conquering power,
Forbears to tower,
To death and worms betray'd.
Where is the slaughtering great?
His lambent banners now are furled,
No more to subjugate the world,
And stalk in robes of state:
The storm is still,
No more to kill,
And peace is all complete.
His lambent banners now are furled,
No more to subjugate the world,
And stalk in robes of state:
The storm is still,
No more to kill,
And peace is all complete.
| Naked Genius | |