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He dared depart in utter scorn
Yet left him such a doom!
The Spaniard, (4) when the lust of sway
Had lost its quickening spell,
An empire for a cell;
His dotage trifled well:
But thou-from thy reluctant hand
The thunderbolt is wrung-
To which thy weakness clung;
To see thine own unstrung;
And Earth hath spilt her blood for him,
Who thus can hoard his own! And Monarchs bow'd the trembling limb,
And thank'd him for a throne! Fair Freedom! we may hold thee dear, When thus thy mightiest foes their fear
In humblest guise have shown. Oh! ne'er may tyrant leave behind A brighter name to lure mankind !
Thine evil deeds are writ in
Or deepen every stain
To shame the world again-
Is vile as vulgar clay;
To all that pass away;
But yet methought the living great
To dazzle and dismay;
And she, proud Austria's mournful flower,
Thy still imperial bride;
Still clings she to thy side ?
Thou throneless Homicide?
Then haste thee to thy sullen Isle,
And gaze upon the sea;
It ne'er was ruled by thee!
That Earth is now as free!
15. Thou Timour! in his captive's cage (5)
What thoughts will there be thine, While brooding in thy prison'd rage?
But one-" The world was mine:"
Life will not long confine
Or like the thief of fire from heaven, (6)
Wilt thou withstand the shock? And share with him, the unforgiven,
His vulture and his rock! Foredoom'd by God-by man accurst, And that last act, though not thy worst, The very
Fiend's arch mock;(7) He in his fall preserved his pride, And, if a mortal, had as proudly died !