Page:The Hundred Best Poems (lyrical) in the English language - second series.djvu/77

 Fallen from his high estate, And weltring in his blood; Deserted, at his utmost need, By those his former bounty fed: On the bare earth expos'd he lies, With not a friend to close his eyes. With downcast looks the joyless victor sate, Revolving in his alter'd soul The various turns of Chance below; And, now and then, a sigh he stole; And tears began to flow.

Chorus.Revolving in his alter'd soul The various turns of Chance below; And, now and then, a sigh he stole; And tears began to flow.

The mighty master smil'd, to see That love was in the next degree: 'Twas but a kindred sound to move, For pity melts the mind to love. Softly sweet, in Lydian measures, Soon he sooth'd his soul to pleasures. War, he sung, is toil and trouble; Honour but an empty bubble; Never ending, still beginning, Fighting still, and still destroying; If the world be worth thy winning, Think, O think, it worth enjoying: Lovely Thais sits beside thee, Take the good the gods provide thee. The many rend the skies with loud applause; 55