No More Learning

Still clings she to thy side?
Must she too bend, must she too share
Thy late repentance, long despair,
Thou throneless Homicide?
If still she loves thee, hoard that gem,--
'Tis worth thy vanished diadem! [255]

XIV.

Then haste thee to thy sullen Isle,
And gaze upon the sea;[ir]
That element may meet thy smile--
It ne'er was ruled by thee!
Or trace with thine all idle hand[is]
In loitering mood upon the sand
That Earth is now as free!
That Corinth's pedagogue[256] hath now
Transferred his by-word to thy brow.

XV.

Thou Timour! in his captive's cage[257][it]
What thoughts will there be thine,
While brooding in thy prisoned rage?
But one--"The world _was_ mine! "
Unless, like he of Babylon,[258]
All sense is with thy sceptre gone,[259]
Life will not long confine
That spirit poured so widely forth--
So long obeyed--so little worth!

XVI.

Or, like the thief of fire from heaven,[260]
Wilt thou withstand the shock?
And share with him, the unforgiven,
His vulture and his rock!
Foredoomed by God--by man accurst,[iu]
And that last act, though not thy worst,
The very Fiend's arch mock;[261]
He in his fall preserved his pride,
And, if a mortal, had as proudly died! [iv][262]

XVII.

There was a day--there was an hour,
While earth was Gaul's--Gaul thine--[iw]
When that immeasurable power
Unsated to resign
Had been an act of purer fame
Than gathers round Marengo's name
And gilded thy decline,
Through the long twilight of all time,
Despite some passing clouds of crime.

XVIII.

But thou forsooth must be a King
And don the purple vest,
As if that foolish robe could wring
Remembrance from thy breast.
Where is that faded garment? where[ix]
The gewgaws thou wert fond to wear,
The star, the string, the crest? [iy][263]
Vain froward child of Empire! say,
Are all thy playthings snatched away?

XIX.

Where may the wearied eye repose[iz]
When gazing on the Great;
Where neither guilty glory glows,
Nor despicable state?
Yes--One--the first--the last--the best--
The Cincinnatus of the West,
Whom Envy dared not hate,
Bequeathed the name of Washington,
To make man blush there was but one! [ja][264]





LARA. [jb]



CANTO THE FIRST. [265]

I.

The Serfs[266] are glad through Lara's wide domain,[267]
And Slavery half forgets her feudal chain;
He, their unhoped, but unforgotten lord,
The long self-exiled Chieftain, is restored:
There be bright faces in the busy hall,
Bowls on the board, and banners on the wall;
Far checkering o'er the pictured window, plays
The unwonted faggot's hospitable blaze;
And gay retainers gather round the hearth,
With tongues all loudness, and with eyes all mirth.