CIV. "Twas not for fiction chose Rousseau this spot, It was the scene which passion must allot And wonderful, and deep, and hath a sound, And sense, and sight of sweetness; here the Rhone Hath spread himself a couch, the Alps have rear'd a throne. CV. Lausanne! and Ferney! ye have been the abodes (23) Of names which unto you bequeath'd a name; Mortals, who sought and found, by dangerous roads, A path to perpetuity of fame: They were gigantic minds, and their steep aim, Was, Titan-like, on daring doubts to pile Thoughts which should call down thunder, and the flame Of Heaven, again assail'd, if Heaven the while On man and man's research could deign do more than smile. CVI. The one was fire and fickleness, a child, Most mutable in wishes, but in mind, CVII. The other, deep and slow, exhausting thought, Which stung his foes to wrath, which grew from fear, Which answers to all doubts so eloquently well. CVIII. Yet, peace be with their ashes,-for by them, It is not ours to judge,—far less condemn; The hour must come when such things shall be made By slumber, on one pillow,-in the dust, Which, thus much we are sure, must lie decay'd; And when it shall revive, as is our trust, "Twill be to be forgiven, or suffer what is just. CIX. But let me quit man's works, again to read To their most great and growing region, where CX. Italia! too, Italia! looking on thee, Full flashes on the soul the light of ages, Thou wert the throne and grave of empires; still, The fount at which the panting mind assuages Her thirst of knowledge, quaffing there her fill, Flows from the eternal source of Rome's imperial hill. CXI. Thus far I have proceeded in a theme We are not what we have been, and to deem Is a stern task of soul:-No matter,-it is taught. CXII. And for these words, thus woven into song, I stood and stand alone,-remember'd or forgot. CXIII. I have not loved the world, nor the world me; Nor coin'd my cheek to smiles,-nor cried aloud They could not deem me one of such; I stood Of thoughts which were not their thoughts, and still could, Had I not filed (24) my mind, which thus itself subdued. |