 | A collection of original poems and translations |  |
240
A Night Thought.
By the same.
Mortal, whoe'er Thou art, beware,—since Time
To the Thatch'd Hovel, to the Trophied Arch
Levels alike his undiscerning Scythe;
And Death, wide-sweeping, no Distinction owes
To the crown'd Villain. All alike in Hell.
Caligula and Chartres, seated both
On burning Couches in the fiery Hall.
To the Thatch'd Hovel, to the Trophied Arch
Levels alike his undiscerning Scythe;
And Death, wide-sweeping, no Distinction owes
To the crown'd Villain. All alike in Hell.
Caligula and Chartres, seated both
On burning Couches in the fiery Hall.
Whence is that milder Blaze, of Æther pure,
As op'ning Clouds a Scenary Divine
Unfold? Where brightest in her Robe of Sky
Sits Virtue under Shade of Palm; with look
Serene, but stern: Herculean Strength behind
Waiting, and trampled Worlds beneath her Feet.
Nearest her Throne, Associates ever dear,
(Not sullen Cato, not th' unfriendly Stroke
Of Brutus, much less Cæsar's lawrel'd Pride)
Epaminondas smiling at his Blood,
For his dear Thebans as it streaming ran,
Warrior benign: Here Antonine the Just,
The Wise, the Humble, with his Sceptre low
In Homage to the Queen: And Nerva there,
Humanity Imperial! pleas'd in Death,
An Heir adopting, who shall bless Mankind.
All the choice Few, Union of Great and Good;
Poor Epictetus, with his Free-born Soul:
More's chearful Wisdom, Boyle with Study wan,
Beneficent, and meek; th' Athenian Sage,
And Indian, in abstruse Discourse sublime
Of the first Good,—their Eyes turn'd up to Heav'n.
Gather'd around, and pick'd from all the World,
The shielded Saint rejoices in her Sons.
As op'ning Clouds a Scenary Divine
Unfold? Where brightest in her Robe of Sky
Sits Virtue under Shade of Palm; with look
Serene, but stern: Herculean Strength behind
Waiting, and trampled Worlds beneath her Feet.
Nearest her Throne, Associates ever dear,
(Not sullen Cato, not th' unfriendly Stroke
Of Brutus, much less Cæsar's lawrel'd Pride)
241
For his dear Thebans as it streaming ran,
Warrior benign: Here Antonine the Just,
The Wise, the Humble, with his Sceptre low
In Homage to the Queen: And Nerva there,
Humanity Imperial! pleas'd in Death,
An Heir adopting, who shall bless Mankind.
All the choice Few, Union of Great and Good;
Poor Epictetus, with his Free-born Soul:
More's chearful Wisdom, Boyle with Study wan,
Beneficent, and meek; th' Athenian Sage,
And Indian, in abstruse Discourse sublime
Of the first Good,—their Eyes turn'd up to Heav'n.
Gather'd around, and pick'd from all the World,
The shielded Saint rejoices in her Sons.
| A collection of original poems and translations | |