SELECTIONS IN ENGLISH POETRY
To see thine own unstrung;
To think that God's fair world hath been	80
The footstool of a thing so> mean;
X
And Earth hath spilt her blood for him,
Who thus can hoard his own !
And Monarchs bow'd the trembling limb,
And thanked him for a throne!	85
Fair Freedom ! we may hold thee dear,
When thus thy mightiest foes their fear
In humblest guise have shown.
Oh! ne'er may tyrant leave behind
A brighter name to lure mankind !	go
XI
Thine evil deeds are writ in gore,
Nor written thus in vain—
Thy triumphs tell of fame no more,
Or deepen every stain :
If thou hadst died as honour dies,	qc
Some new Napoleon might arise,
To shame the world again—
But who would soar the solar height,
To set in such a starless night ?
XII
Weighed in the balance, hero dust	_IOo
Is vile as vulgar clay;
The scales, Mortality! are just
To all that pass away !
But yet methought the living great
Some higher sparks should animate,	105