5 Of undiseased mankind, the giant sons The erring spirits who can ne'er return.— Most glorious orb! that wert a worship, ere 10 The mystery of thy making was reveal'd! Thou earliest minister of the Almighty, Which gladden'd, on their mountain tops, the hearts Of the Chaldean shepherds,2 till they pour'd Themselves in orisons! Thou material God! 15 And representative of the UnknownWho chose thee for his shadow! Thou chief star! Centre of many stars! which mak'st our earth Endurable, and temperest the hues And hearts of all who walk within thy rays! 20 Sire of the seasons! Monarch of the climes, And those who dwell in them! for near or far, Our inborn spirits have a tint of thee Even as our outward aspects;-thou dost rise, And shine, and set in glory. Fare thee well! 25 I ne'er shall see thee more. As my first glance Of love and wonder was for thee, then take My latest look; thou wilt not beam on one To whom the gifts of life and warmth have been Of a more fatal nature. He is gone: 30 I follow. [Exit MANFRED. SCENE III The Mountains-The Castle of Manfred at some distance-A Terrace before a Tower.-Time, Twilight. HERMAN, MANUEL, and other Dependants of MANFRED. Her. 'Tis strange enough; night after night, for years, He hath pursued long vigils in this tower, To draw conclusions absolute, of aught "Twere dangerous: Content thyself with what thou know'st already. Her. Ah! Manuel! thou art elderly and wise, And couldst say much; thou hast dwelt within the castle How many years is 't? Manuel. Ere Count Manfred's birth, 15 I served his father, whom he nought resembles. Her. There be more sons in like predicament. But wherein do they differ? 20 A warrior and a reveller; he dwelt not With books and solitude, nor made the 25 These walls Must change their chieftain first. Oh! I have seen 30 Some strange things in them, Herman. 40 Began to glitter with the climbing moon; Count Manfred was, as now, within his tower, How occupied, we knew not, but with him 1 title to 50 He is most private, and must not be thus Intruded on. Abbot. Upon myself I take The forfeit of my fault, if fault there be But I must see him. Her. Abbot. Thou hast seen him once Herman! I command thee, 55 Knock, and apprize the Count of my approach. Her. We dare not. Shone through the rents of ruin; from afar 15 The watch-dog bay'd beyond the Tiber; and More near from out the Cæsar's palace came The owl's long cry, and, interruptedly, Of distant sentinels the fitful song Begun and died upon the gentle wind. 20 Some cypresses beyond the time-worn breach Appear'd to skirt the horizon, yet they stood Within a bowshot. Where the Cæsars dwelt, And dwell the tuneless birds of night, amidst A grove which springs through levell'd battlements, 25 And twines its roots with the imperial Ivy usurps the laurel's place of growth; Abbot. Then it seems I must be herald 30 Grovel on earth in indistinct decay. Of my own purpose. Manuel. I pray you pause. Abbot. Manuel. Reverend father, stop Why so? But step this way, And I will tell you further. [Exeunt. Thou didst not tempt me, and thou couldst not tempt me; I have not been thy dupe, nor am thy prey 10 5 But was my own destroyer, and will be 140 My own hereafter.- Back, ye baffled 10 fiends! The hand of death is on me--but not And thy breast heaves-and in thy gasp- The accents rattle: Give thy prayers to 145 Pray-albeit but in thought,-but die not Man. 'Tis over-my dull eyes can fix But all things swim around me, and the 15 20 And my 1821 My boat is on the shore, Here's a sigh to those who love me, Here's a heart for every fate. Though the ocean roar around me, Were 't the last drop in the well, 'Tis to thee that I would drink. With that water, as this wine, Strahan, Tonson, Lintot of the times, 5 To thee, with hope and terror dumb, Upon thy table's baize so green 10 The last new Quarterly is seen; But where is thy new Magazine, My Murray? "T was after dread Pultowa's day, No more to combat and to bleed. 5 The power and glory of the war, Faithless as their vain votaries, men, And Moscow's walls were safe again, Should give to slaughter and to shame A shock to one-a thunderbolt to all. 15 Such was the hazard of the die; The wounded Charles was taught to fly By day and night through field and flood, Stain 'd with his own and subjects' blood; For thousands fell that flight to aid: 20 And not a voice was heard t' upbraid Ambition in his humbled hour, When truth had nought to dread from power. His horse was slain, and Gieta gave His own-and died the Russians' slave. 25 This too sinks after many a league Of well sustain'd but vain fatigue; And in the depth of forests darkling, The watch-fires in the distance sparklingThe beacons of surrounding foes30 A king must lay his limbs at length, Are these the laurels and repose For which the nations strain their strength? They laid him by a savage tree, In outworn nature's agony; 35 His wounds were stiff, his limbs were stark; 1 Charles XII, King of Sweden (1697-1718), whose forces were almost annihilated by those of Peter the Great of Russia, in the Battle of Poltava, July 8, 1709. A reference to Napoleon's Russian campaign of 1812, in which Moscow was burned and the French army almost destroyed by hunger and cold on the return march. The heavy hour was chill and dark; The fever in his blood forbade A transient slumber's fitful aid: And thus it was; but yet through all, 40 Kinglike the monarch bore his fall, And made, in this extreme of ill, His pangs the vassals of his will: All silent and subdued were they, As once the nations round him lay. 45 A band of chiefs!-alas! how few, Since but the fleeting of a day Had thinn'd it; but this wreck was true And chivalrous: upon the clay Each sate him down, all sad and mute, Beside his monarch and his steed; For danger levels man and brute, 50 And all are fellows in their need. Among the rest, Mazeppa made His pillow in an old oak's shade55 Himself as rough, and scarce less old, The Ukraine's Hetman,1 calm and bold; But first, outspent with this long course, The Cossack prince rubb'd down his horse, And made for him a leafy bed, 60 And smooth'd his fetlocks and his mane, And slack'd his girth, and stripp'd his rein, And joy'd to see how well he fed; For until now he had the dread His wearied courser might refuse 65 To browse beneath the midnight dews: But he was hardy as his lord, And little cared for bed and board; But spirited and docile, too, Whate'er was to be done, would do. 70 Shaggy and swift, and strong of limb, All Tartar-like he carried him; Obey'd his voice, and came to call, And knew him in the midst of all: Though thousands were around, - and Night, 75 Without a star, pursued her flight,That steed from sunset until dawn His chief would follow like a fawn. This done, Mazeppa spread his cloak And laid his lance beneath his oak, 80 Felt if his arms in order good The long day's march had well withstoodIf still the powder fill'd the pan, And flints unloosen 'd kept their lockHis sabre's hilt and scabbard felt, 85 And whether they had chafed his belt; And next the venerable man, From out his haversack and can Prepared and spread his slender stock; 1 The Cossack chief from Ukraine, a district in |