 | The Poetical Works of Ebenezer Elliott
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XII.
Cold sneerers, dead to pity, lost to shame!
It came, it cometh, “the tremendous gloom,”
That hurl'd the sire-dethroner to his doom;
God whispers—Hark! he names “The dreaded Name
Of Demogorgon!” Still your wolfish laws
Bare chain'd Prometheus to your vulture-claws;
And hope ye to escape the Torturer's fate?
Though long delay'd, it cometh, as it came!
It cometh—and will find you taught too late,
Soul-chaining, chain'd in soul, repentant never,
Darkest, yet darkening! Then, the fated frown
Will cast ye deep beneath all darkness down,
And brighten'd by your infamous renown,
All other infamy look bright for ever.
| The Poetical Works of Ebenezer Elliott
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