Page:Ode on the Departing Year - Coleridge (1796).djvu/14

 The boastful, bloody Son of Pride betray'd His Hatred of the blest and blessing Maid. One cloud, O Freedom! cross'd thy orb of Light And sure, be deem'd, that Orb was quench'd in night: For still does roam on  bleak dizzy height!

! 'twas on no earthly shore My Soul beheld thy Vision. Where, alone, Voiceless and stern, before the Cloudy Throne Aye sits; there, garmented with gore, With many an unimaginable groan Thou storiedst thy sad Hours! Silence ensued: Deep Silence o'er th' etherial Multitude, Whose purple Locks with snow-white Glories shone. Then, his eye wild ardors glancing, From the choired Gods advancing, The of the  made reverence meet And stood up beautiful before the Cloudy Seat!