Page:The Siege of Valencia.pdf/293

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And lyres were strung, and bright libations pour'd, When, through the streets, flash'd out th' avenging sword, Fearless and free, the sword with myrtles bound* !

Through Rome a triumph pass'd. Rich in her sun-god's mantling beams went by That long array of glorious pageantry, With shout and trumpet-blast. An empire's gems their starry splendour shed O'er the proud march; a king in chains was led; A stately victor, crown'd and robed, came last†.

And many a Dryad's bower Had lent the laurels, which, in waving play, Stirr'd the warm air, and glisten'd round his way, As a quick-flashing shower. —O'er his own porch, meantime, the cypress hung, Through his fair halls a cry of anguish rung— Woe for the dead!—the father's broken flower!