Page:Southern Life in Southern Literature.djvu/424

 And yet to lack the charm that makes them ours, The obedient vassals of that conquering spell, Whose omnipresent and ethereal powers Encircle Heaven, nor fear to enter Hell;



This is the doom of Tantalus—the thirst For beauty's balmy fount to quench the fires Of the wild passion that our souls have nurst In hopeless promptings—unfulfilled desires.

Yet would I rather in the outward state Of Song's immortal temple lay me down, A beggar basking by that radiant gate, Than bend beneath the haughtiest empire's crown!