Page:The Prelude, Wordsworth, 1850.djvu/332

310 Which, through the later sinkings of this cause,

Hath still upheld me, and upholds me now

In the catastrophe (for so they dream,

And nothing less), when, finally to close

And seal up all the gains of France, a Pope

Is summoned in, to crown an Emperor—

This last opprobrium, when we see a people,

That once looked up in faith, as if to Heaven

For manna, take a lesson from the dog

Returning to his vomit; when the sun

That rose in splendour, was alive, and moved

In exultation with a living pomp

Of clouds—his glory's natural retinue—

Hath dropped all functions by the gods bestowed,

And, turned into a gewgaw, a machine,

Sets like an Opera phantom.

Thus, O Friend!

Through times of honour and through times of shame

Descending, have I faithfully retraced

The perturbations of a youthful mind

Under a long-lived storm of great events—

A story destined for thy ear, who now,

Among the fallen of nations, dost abide

Where Etna, over hill and valley, casts

His shadow stretching towards Syracuse,