THE DYNASTS ACT
" We might have fought, and had we died, died well, Even if in dynasts discords not our own ; Our death-spot some sad haunter might have shown, Some tongue have asked our sires or sons to tell The tale of how we fell;
"But such bechanced not. Like the mist we fade, No lustrous lines engrave in story we, Our country's chiefs, for their own fames afraid, Will kave our names and fates by this pale sea To perish silently ! "
SPIRIT OF THE YEARS
Why must ye echo as mechanic mimes
These mortal minions bootless cadences,
Played on the stops of their anatomy
As is the mewling music on the strings
Of yonder ship-masts by the unweeting wind,
Or the frail tune upon this withering sedge
That holds its papery blades against the gale ?
—Men pass to dark corruption, at the best,
Ere I can count five score: these why not now ?—
The Immanent Shaper builds Its beings so
Whether ye sigh their sighs with them or no !
The night fog enwraps the isle and the dying English army.