No More Learning

But in Man's dwellings he became a thing[gy]
Restless and worn, and stern and wearisome,
Drooped as a wild-born falcon with clipt wing,
To whom the boundless air alone were home:
Then came his fit again, which to o'ercome,
As eagerly the barred-up bird will beat
His breast and beak against his wiry dome
Till the blood tinge his plumage--so the heat
Of his impeded Soul would through his bosom eat.

XVI.

Self-exiled Harold wanders forth again,[286]
With nought of Hope left--but with less of gloom;
The very knowledge that he lived in vain,
That all was over on this side the tomb,
Had made Despair a smilingness assume,
Which, though 'twere wild,--as on the plundered wreck
When mariners would madly meet their doom
With draughts intemperate on the sinking deck,--
Did yet inspire a cheer, which he forbore to check.

XVII.

Stop! --for thy tread is on an Empire's dust!
An Earthquake's spoil is sepulchred below!
Is the spot marked with no colossal bust? [287]
Nor column trophied for triumphal show?
None; but _the moral's truth_ tells simpler so. --[gz][288]
As the ground was before, thus let it be;--[ha]
How that red rain hath made the harvest grow!
And is this all the world has gained by thee,
Thou first and last of Fields! king-making Victory?

XVIII.

And Harold stands upon this place of skulls,
The grave of France, the deadly Waterloo!
[hb]
How in an hour the Power which gave annuls
Its gifts, transferring fame as fleeting too! --
In "pride of place" here last the Eagle flew,[1. B. ]
Then tore with bloody talon the rent plain,[hc]
Pierced by the shaft of banded nations through;
Ambition's life and labours all were vain--
He wears the shattered links of the World's broken chain. [hd]

XIX.

Fit retribution! Gaul may champ the bit
And foam in fetters;--but is Earth more free? [289]
Did nations combat to make _One_ submit?
Or league to teach all Kings true Sovereignty? [he]
What! shall reviving Thraldom again be
The patched-up Idol of enlightened days?
Shall we, who struck the Lion down, shall we
Pay the Wolf homage? proffering lowly gaze
And servile knees to Thrones? No! _prove_ before ye praise!

XX.