"
Who reigns soon is dethroned?
Who reigns soon is dethroned?
Hugo - Poems
the Eagle
May burst, in frantic thirst for home, the rings
And rend the Bulldog, Fox, and Bear, and Beagle!
And, lastly, grandest! 'tween dark sea and here
Eternal brightness coming!
The eye so weary's freshened with a tear
As rises distant drumming,
And wailing cheer--they pass the pale
His army mourns though still's the end hid;
And from his war-stained cloak, he answers "Hail! "
And spurns the bed of gloom for throne aye-splendid!
H. L. WILLIAMS.
LES FEUILLES D'AUTOMNE. --1831.
THE PATIENCE OF THE PEOPLE.
_("Il s'est dit tant de fois. ")_
[III. , May, 1830. ]
How often have the people said: "What's power?
"
Who reigns soon is dethroned? each fleeting hour
Has onward borne, as in a fevered dream,
Such quick reverses, like a judge supreme--
Austere but just, they contemplate the end
To which the current of events must tend.
Self-confidence has taught them to forbear,
And in the vastness of their strength, they spare.
Armed with impunity, for _one in vain_
Resists a _nation_, they let others reign.
G. W. M. REYNOLDS.
DICTATED BEFORE THE RHONE GLACIER.
_("Souvent quand mon esprit riche. ")_
[VII. , May 18, 1828. ]
When my mind, on the ocean of poesy hurled,
Floats on in repose round this wonderful world,
Oft the sacred fire from heaven--
Mysterious sun, that gives light to the soul--
Strikes mine with its ray, and above the pole
Its upward course is driven,
Like a wandering cloud, then, my eager thought
Capriciously flies, to no guidance brought,
With every quarter's wind;
It regards from those radiant vaults on high,
Earth's cities below, and again doth fly,
And leaves but its shadow behind.
In the glistening gold of the morning bright,
It shines, detaching some lance of light,
Or, as warrior's armor rings;
It forages forests that ferment around,
Or bathed in the sun-red gleams is found,
Where the west its radiance flings.
Or, on mountain peak, that rears its head
Where snow-clad Alps around are spread,
By furious gale 'tis thrown.
From the yawning abyss see the cloud scud away,
And the glacier appears, with its multiform ray,
The giant mountain's crown!
May burst, in frantic thirst for home, the rings
And rend the Bulldog, Fox, and Bear, and Beagle!
And, lastly, grandest! 'tween dark sea and here
Eternal brightness coming!
The eye so weary's freshened with a tear
As rises distant drumming,
And wailing cheer--they pass the pale
His army mourns though still's the end hid;
And from his war-stained cloak, he answers "Hail! "
And spurns the bed of gloom for throne aye-splendid!
H. L. WILLIAMS.
LES FEUILLES D'AUTOMNE. --1831.
THE PATIENCE OF THE PEOPLE.
_("Il s'est dit tant de fois. ")_
[III. , May, 1830. ]
How often have the people said: "What's power?
"
Who reigns soon is dethroned? each fleeting hour
Has onward borne, as in a fevered dream,
Such quick reverses, like a judge supreme--
Austere but just, they contemplate the end
To which the current of events must tend.
Self-confidence has taught them to forbear,
And in the vastness of their strength, they spare.
Armed with impunity, for _one in vain_
Resists a _nation_, they let others reign.
G. W. M. REYNOLDS.
DICTATED BEFORE THE RHONE GLACIER.
_("Souvent quand mon esprit riche. ")_
[VII. , May 18, 1828. ]
When my mind, on the ocean of poesy hurled,
Floats on in repose round this wonderful world,
Oft the sacred fire from heaven--
Mysterious sun, that gives light to the soul--
Strikes mine with its ray, and above the pole
Its upward course is driven,
Like a wandering cloud, then, my eager thought
Capriciously flies, to no guidance brought,
With every quarter's wind;
It regards from those radiant vaults on high,
Earth's cities below, and again doth fly,
And leaves but its shadow behind.
In the glistening gold of the morning bright,
It shines, detaching some lance of light,
Or, as warrior's armor rings;
It forages forests that ferment around,
Or bathed in the sun-red gleams is found,
Where the west its radiance flings.
Or, on mountain peak, that rears its head
Where snow-clad Alps around are spread,
By furious gale 'tis thrown.
From the yawning abyss see the cloud scud away,
And the glacier appears, with its multiform ray,
The giant mountain's crown!
