Page:The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero) - Volume 4.djvu/602

560 Let the wine flow around the old Bacchanal's throne,

Like their blood which has flowed, and which yet has to flow.

22.

But let not his name be thine idol alone—

On his right hand behold a Sejanus appears!

Thine own Castlereagh! let him still be thine own!

A wretch never named but with curses and jeers!

23.

Till now, when the Isle which should blush for his birth,

Deep, deep as the gore which he shed on her soil,

Seems proud of the reptile which crawled from her earth,

And for murder repays him with shouts and a smile.

24.

Without one single ray of her genius,—without

The fancy, the manhood, the fire of her race—

The miscreant who well might plunge Erin in doubt

If she ever gave birth to a being so base.

25.

If she did—let her long-boasted proverb be hushed,

Which proclaims that from Erin no reptile can spring—

See the cold-blooded Serpent, with venom full flushed,

Still warming its folds in the breast of a King!

26.

Shout, drink, feast, and flatter! Oh! Erin, how low

Wert thou sunk by misfortune and tyranny, till

Thy welcome of tyrants hath plunged thee below

The depth of thy deep in a deeper gulf still.