Page:The Bengali Book of English Verse.djvu/82

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And now I see a noble figure cast In highest beauty's mould, whose lofty brow Bespeaks a pure and gracious soul within. He looks the image bright of Clemency; And as he moves, lo! Peace attends his steps. When a fierce hurricane swept o'er the East, And men hurled Reason from her tottering throne, With cheeks unblanched, stout heart, and iron nerves, He curb'd their passions wild, and firmly check'd War's blood-hounds in their merciless career, And thus from ruin saved a classic land, And fair Humanity from lasting shame. Oh, baleful days! whose memory still sends A thrill of horror through the circling veins! Oh, stormy days! when lacerated Peace Lay all but lifeless upon Mercy's lap, And Virtue—Innocence—Religion's self, Like storm-kiss'd flowers, with consternation shook; While with infernal merriment, hell laughed To find another hell produced on earth! In that dread saturnalia of blood, This righteous statesman stood revealed in all His moral grandeur; violence and rapine And lawlessness fled at his stern command; He brought down Mercy from her heavenly bower, The sword of Justice tempered with her dew!

Among that saintly host, with thrilling joy And pride, I see the bold Reformer, who In darkest times flung off the yoke of Falsehood;