SELECTIONS IN ENGLISH POETRY
To dazzle and dismay :
Nor deemed Contempt could thus make mirth
Of these, the Conquerors of the earth.
XIII
And she, proud Austria's mournful flower,
Thy still imperial bride; no
How bears her breast the torturing hour?
Still clings she to thy side ?
Must she too bend, must she too share
Thy late repentance, long despair,
Thou throneless Homicide? 115
If still she loves thee, hoard that gem,—
'Tis worth thy vanished diadem !
XIV
Then haste thee to thy sullen Isle,
And gaze upon the sea;
That element may meet thy smile— 120
It ne'er was ruled by thee!
Or trace with thine all idle hand
In loitering mood upon the sand
That Earth is now as free!
That Corinth'$ pedagogue hath now 125
Transferred his by-word to thy brow.
XV
Thou Timour ! in his captive's cage
. What thoughts will there be thine,
While brooding in thy prisoned rage?
But one—'The world was mine!' 130
Unless, like he of Babylon,
All sense is with thy sceptre gone,
115