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ODE TO FORTUNE
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ODE TO FORTUNE

Demon or goddess, who dost sway
The changes of our mortal state:
Before whose footstep fades away,
As snow, the grandeur of the great.
To some thou bringest health and fame,
A happy love, a faithful friend,
To some the dungeon-doors of shame,
Gibbet and rope, a felon's end.
Thou art almighty in thy might,
Heaven fades before thy fiery breath.
The giant planets of the night
Fall, if thy hand decree their death.
Wisdom is but a little child,
Before the breath of thy command:
And Virtue, broken and beguiled,
Rests in the hollow of thy hand.
O'er heaven and ocean, crag and vale,
Thou waftest thy triumphant wings;
Thou soarest on the golden gale
With incense from an hundred springs.
Thou canst unlock the secret deep,
And rend aside the mountain range;
And, as the spheres thro' ether sweep,
Thou rollest round thy orb of change.
No bourn, no limit of delay,
No rest thy alternations know;
We quail before thy dreadful way,
And at thy thunder step bend low.

360

Thy deep eyes search the years unborn,
And mock the present with disdain;
And measure with a smile of scorn
Each sceptred tyrant's fleeting reign.
How brief a record can they save,
If only in some marble bust
Survive those features, which the grave
Has crumbled to a pinch of dust.
And these white ashes of an urn
Once made a chidden world afraid;
But Queens to common dust return,
And Kings of glory quickly fade.
So when proud Egypt in her fleet
Beat up, with canvas all unfurled,
Inflamed with Mareotic heat,
To wreck the realm and clutch the world:
Drunk with the wine of prosperous hours,
Insane to hope the wildest good,
She, queenly crowned with lotus flowers,
Swept silken-sailed across the flood:
Came with musquito nets, and came
With eunuchs, a decrepit band,
While, doting at her apron, tame
The great triumvir gave command.
But when she saw her burning ships,
And heard the roaring of the fire,
The wanton paled her painted lips,
And fled the falcon Cæsar's ire.
The destiny of Rome, of man,
Hung trembling on that awful day,
The ages and their coming plan
Were mapped in that Ambracian bay.
There, Fortune, calm on Actian height,
Above the hurtling prows and sails,
Sat arbitress to watch the fight,
And weigh the world in battle scales.

361

And, when the haughty Rome was done,
She rolled her Goths in thunder down,
Thro' ice-blue vales she called the Hun,
She gave him Cæsar's empty crown.
Dread Deity, supremely fair,
Daughter of heaven, serenely strong,
Smile on us, firstborn of despair,
Give respite to our ancient wrong.
The nations narrow and expand,
As tides that ebb, or tides that flow.
Their bounds and borders fear thy hand;
It rears them high or wrecks them low.
All men thy intercession crave;
The happy lovers newly wed,
The widow bending o'er a grave,
The mother o'er a cradled head.
They perish as a robe outworn,
As faded leaves they float away:
But in the prime where thou wert born,
A hundred years are but a day.
Thou scatterest them like shade or sleep,
Thou slayest them and they are slain:
Anon, thou callest o'er the deep,
“Children of silence, come again.”
As oxen that to slaughter reel,
Thou drivest nations with thy goad;
They are as flies upon thy wheel,
They are as pebbles in thy road:
As emmets, who have lost their way,
Between the ant-hill and the sheaf:
As coral insects in a bay,
That weave their little inch of reef:
We last but while the day is new;
The thirsty sunbeam dries us up.
Have mercy! we are drops of dew
Shed for a moment in thy cup.