I see them totter under arms and flames, And Simois and Xanthus swift with blood. Behold, the ruin comes when war hath ceas'd,
And gods and sons of gods walk slow with wounds. 209. L. A mortal shoot on heaven you cannot graft. A. This cause concerns not one but many gods. L. What! were they servants ere becoming gods? A. The Delian shepherd fed the sheep of Pheræ. L. But wander'd not an exile through all lands. A. A wanderer bore him on a wandering soil. L. No monsters Phœbus had to fear, no beasts. A. His shafts he season'd with a dragon's gore. But thine own strength Should for thine own deliverance be put forth: Then might the higher powers approving see And bless the brave resolve. O that my arm Could wield yon lightnings that play idly there In inoffensive radiance round thy head!
The Swerga should not need a champion now, Nor earth implore deliverance now in vain.
211. But, as I think, I surely foresee this,
That these my words will be preserv'd hereafter In many people's recollection. And
Another man will come, who'll strip my reasons Of their poetic dress, and, clothing them In other garments and with purple broidery, Will show them off, and, being invincible, Will make all rivals bow the knee to him.
212. O flower, which yonder fierce Thessalian hand Is plucking, on what altar art thou laid? Why blaze so the Sigean shores, the torch Unkindled yet? those rocks of Tenedos, Why throw they back again that trailing light? Fly, let us fly: Citharon and the towers Chaonian, the Ceraunian rocks, the strand
Of Achelous, hark, reverberate The clamour, the loud plaint of Ilion.
The faults kings do Shine like the fiery beacons on a hill, For all to see, and seeing tremble at. It's not a single ill which you commit: What in the subject is a petty fault, Monsters your actions, and is foul offence. You give your subjects license to offend When you do teach them how.
Three times to-day I holp him to his horse, Three times bestrid him, thrice I led him off, Persuaded him from any further act:
But still, where danger was, still there I met him; And like rich hangings in a homely house,
So was his will in his old feeble body. But, noble as he is, look where he comes.
215. There Italus, there stood with pruning-blade The sire Sabinus, planter of the vine; Old Saturn, Janus with his double brow, And other early kings, that had in war Bled for their country. On the sacred posts Hung armour, captive chariots, helmet-crests, Bucklers and shafts, curv'd axes, gate-bars huge, And beaks from galleys torn.
216. For this return I? came I back to light
To see two funerals, and a double slaughter? Widow'd and childless, with one torch to fire The funeral pyres of two most fondly lov'd, The wife, the son. O thou that gav'st again This light, my darkness, Hercules, that gift Bid Pluto now resume, and to the shades
217. Sire, in prosperity be still humane, As in misfortune thou hast ever been; And on the height of greatness ne'er forget The value of a friend in times of need; Thou hast approv'd it in adversity. Refuse not to the lowest of thy people The claims of justice and humanity;
For from the fold God call'd thy Saviour forth. 218. Yes, unrestrained weep, thou valiant soul,
With many a wave o'erridden. Thou striv'st nobly Where hearts of sterner stuff perhaps had sunken; And o'er thy fall, if it be so decreed,
Good men will mourn, and brave men will shed
Kindred to those which now thou shed'st. Thy name Shall in succeeding ages be remember'd, When those of mighty monarchs are forgot. So the eagle,
That bears the thunder of our grandsire Jove, With joy beholds his hardy youthful offspring Forsake the nest, to try his tender pinions In the wide untrack'd air; till, bolder grown, Now, like a whirlwind on a shepherd's fold, He darts precipitate, and gripes the prey; Or fixing on some dragon's scaly hide, Eager of combat, and his future feast, Bears him aloft reluctant, and in vain Wreathing his spiry tail.
220. Seek not to know what pleaseth heaven to hide. Dark is the abyss of time,
But light enough to guide your steps is given. Whatever weal or woe betide,
Turn never from the way of truth aside,
And leave the event in holy hope to heaven. The moment is at hand; no more delay: Ascend th' ethereal bark, and go your way.
221. Return to Xerxes; tell him on this rock The Grecians, faithful to their post, await His chosen myriads; tell him thou hast seen How far the lust of empire is below
A free-born mind: and tell him, to behold A tyrant humbled, and by virtuous death To seal my country's freedom, is a good Surpassing all his boasted pow'r can give. 222. V. His fate alone I seek, and mine in his.
C. And hast thou strength to bear it? Art thou
V. Thou reckonest then to look on dreadful things. C. I may or I may not: then brace thy mind. V. I can bear all things but uncertainty.
C. Then shall it be unto thee as thou wilt.
V. O what dost thou behold? speak, speak to me. C. Nothing as yet but the dark formless void.
223. Yea, there thou mak'st me sad, and mak'st me sin, In envy that my Lord Northumberland
Should be the father of so blest a son :
A son, who is the theme of honour's tongue; Amongst a grove the very straightest plant; Who is sweet Fortune's minion and her pride: Whilst I, by looking on the praise of him,
See riot and dishonor stain the brow
Of my young Harry.
224. Though all the doors are sure, and all our servants Are sure bound with their sleeps; yet there is One That wakes above, whose eye no sleep can bind. He sees through doors and darkness, and our thoughts:
And therefore, as we should avoid with fear To think amiss ourselves before his search;
So should we ever be curious to shun
225. Would I had trod the humble path, and made My industry less ambitious. The shrub Securely grows; the tallest tree stands most Within the wind. And thus we do distinguish The noble from the base: the noble find
Their lives and deaths still troublesome; but safe Humility doth sleep, the while the storm Grows hoarse with scolding.
Would draw thee forth to perilous enterprises; While I at home sat full of cares and fears, Wailing thy absence in my widow'd bed. Here I should still enjoy thee, day and night, Mine and love's prisoner, not the Philistines', Whole to myself, unhazarded abroad, Fearless at home of partners in my love.
With hundred oarblades rising to the stroke Lashes the sea; the parted billows foam. Him the huge Triton bears, and with a shell Swimming affrights the wave, a monster-shape, Man to the waist, but ending in a fish
Of hideous bulk, beneath whose shaggy breast The foamy waters roar.
228. C. Infallible, all-searching Eye, thou seest Mine inmost heart, my deep humility. J. Humility shines brightly in the skies; Thou art abased, hence God exalteth thee. C. Shall I indeed withstand mine enemies? J. France I will lay submissive at thy feet.
C. And Orleans, say'st thou, will not be surren- der'd?
J. The Loire shall sooner roll its waters back.
229. Incerta qualis entheos cursus tulit
Quum jam recepto Manas insanit deo,
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