But such terrific charms as these, I ask not yet: My sober mind The fainter forms of sadness please; My sorrows are of softer kind. Through this still valley let me stray, Rapt in some strain of pensive Gray: Whose lofty genius bears along The conscious dignity of song; And, scorning from the sacred store To waste a note on Pride or Power, Roves through the glimmering twilight And warbles round each rustic tomb: [gloom, He too, perchance (for well I know, His heart can melt with friendly woe), He too, perchance, when these poor limbs are laid, [ing shade. Will heave one tuneful sigh, and sooth my hover

ODE VIII.

ON THE FATE OF TYRANNY'.
I. 1.

OPPRESSION dies: the tyrant falls:
The golden city bows her walls!
Jehovah breaks the' avenger's rod.

1 This Ode is a free paraphrase of part of the 14th chapter of Isaiah, where the Prophet, after he has foretold the destruction of Babylon, subjoins a Song of Triumph, which, he supposes, the Jews will sing when his prediction is fulfilled. And it shall come to pass in the day that the Lord shall give thee rest from thy sorrow, and from thy fear, and from the hard bondage wherein thou wast made to serve, that thou shalt take up this proverb against the King of Babylon, and say "How hath the oppressor ceased," &c.

1st Strophe, ver. 4, 5, 6.

The son of Wrath, whose ruthless hand Hurl'd desolation o'er the land, [blood. Has run his raging race, has closed the scene of Chiefs arm'd around behold their vanquish'd [loyal sword. Nor spread the guardian shield, nor lift the

lord;

I. 2.

He falls; and earth again is free,
Hark! at the call of Liberty,

All Nature lifts the choral song.
The fir trees, on the mountain's head,
Rejoice through all their pomp of shade;
The lordly cedars nod on 'sacred Lebanon:
Tyrant! they cry, since thy fell force is broke,
Our proud heads pierce the skies, nor fear the
woodman's stroke.

I. 3.

Hell, from her gulf profound,
Rouses at thine approach; and, all around,
Her dreadful notes of preparation sound.
See, at the awful call,

Her shadowy heroes all,

E'en mighty kings, the heirs of empire wide,
Rising, with solemn state, and slow,
From their sable thrones below,

Meet and insult thy pride.

What, dost thou join our ghostly train,
A flitting shadow light and vain?

REFERENCES.

1st Antistrophe, 'The whole earth is at rest,' &c. ver. 7, 8,

1st Epode, Hell from beneath is moved for thee,' &c, ver. 9, 10, 11.

Where is thy pomp, thy festive throng,
Thy revel dance, and wanton song?

Proud king! Corruption fastens on thy breast;
And calls her crawling brood, and bids them

share the feast.

II. 1.

Oh Lucifer! thou radiant star;
Son of the Morn; whose rosy car
Flamed foremost in the van of day:
How art thou fallen, thou King of Light!
How fallen from thy meridian height!

Who saidst the distant poles shall hear me and obey.

High o'er the stars, my sapphire throne shall glow,

And, as Jehovah's self, my voice the heavens shall bow.

II. 2.

He spake, he died. Distain'd with gore,
Beside yon yawning cavern hoar,

See, where his livid corse is laid.
The aged pilgrim, passing by,

Surveys him long with dubious eye;

And muses on his fate, and shakes his reverend

head.

Just heavens! is thus thy pride imperial gone? Is this poor heap of dust the King of Babylon?

REFERENCES.

2d Strophe, How art thou fallen from Heaven,' &c. ver. 12, 13, 14.

2d Antistrophe, Yet thou shalt be brought down to Hell,' &c. ver 15, 16.

II. 3.

Is this the man, whose nod

Made the earth tremble: whose terrific rod
Level'd her loftiest cities? Where he trod,
Famine pursued and frown'd;
Till Nature, groaning round,

Saw her rich realms transform'd to deserts dry; While at his crowded prison's gate, Grasping the keys of fate,

Stood stern Captivity.

Vain man! behold thy righteous doom; Behold each neighbouring monarch's tomb; The trophied arch, the breathing bust, The laurel shades their sacred dust: While thou, vile outcast, on this hostile plain, Moulder'st a vulgar corse, among the vulgar slain.

III. 1.

No trophied arch, no breathing bust
Shall dignify thy trampled dust:

No laurel flourish o'er thy grave.

For why, proud king, thy ruthless hand
Hurl'd desolation o'er the land,

And crush'd the subject race, whom kings are born

to save:

Eternal infamy shall blast thy name, [shame. And all thy sons shall share their impious father's

REFERENCES.

2d Epode, Is this the man that made the earth to tremble,' &c. ver. 16, 17, 18, 19.

3d Strophe, Thou shalt not be joined to them in burial,' &c. ver. 20.

III. 2.

Rise, purple slaughter! furious rise;
Unfold the terror of thine eyes;

Dart thy vindictive shafts around:
Let no strange land a shade afford,
No conquer'd nations call them lord;
Nor let their cities rise to curse the goodly ground.
For thus Jehovah swears; no name, no son,
No remnant shall remain of haughty Babylon.

III. 3.

Thus saith the righteous Lord:

My vengeance shall unsheath the flaming sword;
O'er all thy realms my fury shall be pour'd.
Where yon proud city stood,
I'll spread the stagnant flood;
And there the bittern in the sedge shall lurk,
Moaning with sullen strain:

While, sweeping o'er the plain,

Destruction ends her work.

Yes, on mine holy mountain's brow,
I'll crush this proud Assyrian foe.
The irrevocable word is spoke.

From Judah's neck the galling yoke

Spontaneous falls, she shines with wonted state; Thus by myself I swear, and what I swear is fate.

REFERENCES.

3d Antistrophe, Prepare slaughter for his children,' ver. 21, 22.

3d Epode, 'Saith the Lord, I will also make it a possession for the bittern,' &c. ver. 22-27.