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Rh To give the lungs full play—What now avail The strong-built sinewy limbs, and well spread shoulders See how he tugs for life, and lays about him, Mad with his pain!—Eager he catches hold Of what comes next to hand, and grasps it hard Just like a creature drowning; hideous sight! Oh! how his eyes stand out, and stare full ghastly! Whilst the distemper's rank and deadly venom Shoots like a burning arrow cross his bowels, And drinks his marrow up.—Heard you that goan? It was his last.—See how the great Goliah, Just like a child that brawl'd itself to rest, still—what mean'st thou then, O mighty boaster! To vaunt of nerves of thine? What means the Bull, Unconscious of his strength, to play the coward, And flee before a feeble thing like man; That knowing well the sickness of his arm, Trusts only in the well invented knife?

With study pale, and midnight vigils spent, The star-surveying sage, close to his eye Applies the sight-invigorating tube; And travelling thro' the boundless length of space, Marks well the courses of the far-seen orbs, That roll with regular confusion there, ecstasy of thought. But ah! proud man, Great heights are hazardous to the weak head: , very soon, thy firmest footing fails; And down thou dropp'st into the darksome place, Where nor device, nor knowledge ever come.

Here the tongue-warrior lies, disabled now, Disarm'd, dishonour'd, like a wretch that's gagg'd, And cannot tell his ail to passers by. Great man of language,—whence this mighty change? This dumb despair, and drooping of the head?