Page:The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero) - Volume 2.djvu/456

414 From the first hour of Empire in the bud

To that when further worlds to conquer failed;

But long before had Freedom's face been veiled,

And Anarchy assumed her attributes;

Till every lawless soldier who assailed

Trod on the trembling Senate's slavish mutes,

Or raised the venal voice of baser prostitutes.

CXIV.

Then turn we to her latest Tribune's name,

From her ten thousand tyrants turn to thee,

Redeemer of dark centuries of shame—

The friend of Petrarch—hope of Italy—

Rienzi! last of Romans! While the tree

Of Freedom's withered trunk puts forth a leaf,