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He heard it, but he heeded not-his eyes Were with his heart, and that was far away; He reck'd not of the life he lost nor prize, But where his rude hut by the Danube lay, There were his young barbarians all at play, There was their Dacian mother-he, their sire, Butcher'd to make a Roman holidayAll this rush'd with his blood-Shall he expire And unavenged? Arise! ye Goths, and glut your ire!
But here, where Murder breathed her bloody steam; And here, where buzzing nations choked the ways, And roar'd or murmur'd like a mountain stream Dashing or winding as its torrent strays; Here, where the Roman million's blame or praise Was death or life, the playthings of a crowd, My voice sounds much—and fall the stars' faint rays On the arena void-seats crush'd-walls bow'dAnd galleries, where my steps seem echoes strangely loud.
A ruin-yet what ruin! from its mass
And marvel where the spoil could have appear'd. 40
When the colossal fabric's form is near'd:
But when the rising moon begins to climb Its topmost arch, and gently pauses there; When the stars twinkle through the loops of time, And the low night-breeze waves along the air The garland-forest, which the gray walls wear, Like laurels on the bald first Caesar's head; When the light shines serene but doth not glare, Then in this magic circle raise the dead: Heroes have trod this spot-'tis on their dust ye tread.
'While stands the Coliseum, Rome shall stand; 'When falls the Coliseum, Rome shall fall;
" And when Rome falls-the World.' From our
Thus spake the pilgrims o'er this mighty wall
DEATH OF THE PRINCESS CHARLOTTE
HARK! forth from the abyss a voice proceeds,
With some deep and immedicable wound;
The gulf is thick with phantoms, but the chief
Seems royal still, though with her head discrown'd,
Scion of chiefs and monarchs, where art thou?
The present happiness and promised joy
Which fill'd the imperial isles so full it seem'd to cloy.
Peasants bring forth in safety. Can it be,
Her many griefs for ONE; for she had pour'd
Of sackcloth was thy wedding garment made; Thy bridal's fruit is ashes: in the dust The fair-hair'd Daughter of the Isles is laid, The love of millions! How we did intrust Futurity to her! and, though it must Darken above our bones, yet fondly deem'd Our children should obey her child, and bless'd Her and her hoped-for seed, whose promise seem’d Like stars to shepherd's eyes:-'twas but a meteor beam'd.
Woe unto us, not her; for she sleeps well:
Which from the birth of monarchy hath rung
These might have been her destiny; but no, Our hearts deny it and so young, so fair, Good without effort, great without a foe/; But now a bride and mother-and now there! How many ties did that stern moment tear! From thy Sire's to his humblest subject's breast Is link'd the electric chain of that despair, Whose shock was as an earthquake's, and oppfest The land which loved thee so that none could love
I LOVE NOT MAN THE LESS, BUT
(CANTO IV, clxxvii-clxxxiv)
OH! that the Desert were my dwelling-place,
There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,
Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean-roll!
His steps are not upon thy paths, thy fields
And shake him from thee; the vile strength he wields
Spurning him from thy bosom to the skies, And send'st him, shivering in thy playful spray And howling, to his Gods, where haply lies His petty hope in some near port or bay, And dashest him again to earth :-there let him lay.
The armaments which thunderstrike the walls
Thy shores are empires, changed in all save theeAssyria, Greece, Rome, Carthage, what are they? Thy waters wash'd them power while they were free, And many a tyrant since; their shores obey The stranger, slave, or savage; their decay Has dried up realms to deserts:-not so thou ;Unchangeable, save to thy wild waves' play, Time writes no wrinkle on thine azure brow: Such as creation's dawn beheld, thou rollest now.
And I have loved thee, Ocean! and my joy
Thou glorious mirror, where the Almighty's form
Of the Invisible; even from out thy slime