Page:The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero) - Volume 4.djvu/306

68 Who could resist themselves even, hardest care!

And task most hopeless; but some such have been,

And if my name amongst the number were,

That Destiny austere, and yet serene,

Were prouder than more dazzling fame unblessed;

The Alp's snow summit nearer heaven is seen

Than the Volcano's fierce eruptive crest,

Whose splendour from the black abyss is flung,

While the scorched mountain, from whose burning breast

A temporary torturing flame is wrung,

Shines for a night of terror, then repels

Its fire back to the Hell from whence it sprung,

The Hell which in its entrails ever dwells.