Page:Poems By Chauncy Hare Townshend.djvu/368

 358' waT.a.oo. How different now the solemn alm, tha rigns, From that, which lu!Fd last e'v h' expectant plains ! Then apprehension thrill'd, or hope beat high, Now all is hush'd in silent certainty. And where is he, whose madly-daring hand Pil'd the dread pyre, then to'ss'd th kindling brand ? He far away pursues his' hurried flight,' Invoking all the deelst slmdes of nighi. O greatly-fall'n, and ould'st thou !iear t6 fly, Outcast from fame, no ess  victor ? FaWn like th avalanche,' all powerless laid, That melts amid the wrecks itself had made.' Did'st thou noi seem the Prussian's' shriek to hea, And groans fro TM Jaffa munnur'd in'thine ear'? Frowning in Angel's wrath see Wright succeed, And murder'd D'Enghien asks; ' Who bade me bleed ." Farewell ! If Conscience l{ave not'lost her power, Her frowns will' dar!en the aenging hour. Yes, all is o'er ! ' Dominon, glory, fame; Shrink in Napoleon to an empty name.' As the proud Aloe, hil'd with wondering gaze, Towers in an age with bloom, that oon decays, So past away his pageantry, and power, Ripen'd thro' years, bu wither'd in an hour: And he, who climb'd hm' rapine, waste, and To Fame's steep heigh---Chief--ConsulEmperor-- } ......... Google

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