LVIII.

Look round the Temple of the World! no form,

No deeds which human Nature elevate,

Refine and humanise, it did not warm :

Born from its Source, whose power doth still create ;
What were the past if, circumscribed by Fate,
This ray had slumbered? chaos come again;

A grave for dust with dust to congregate;
No!-it was given to prove the origin

Of the immortal soul to more degenerate Men.

LIX.

And can the love of praise, the passing breath

Of man, which is as nothing in its eye,

Suffice that Soul whose yearnings outstrip death?

Which fails the Infinite to satisfy?

Away!-the fame for which it heaves the sigh,

For which it mounts-toils-struggles-is its own; Seated-but not above humanity,

It watches from that solitary throne;

And hears the distant shouts-but moves, and acts

alone.

LX.

Who, with earth's crowns and kingdoms at his feet, Was ever satisfied? who ever dealt

Reward that could Ambition's visions meet,

Though a world's flatterers at his footstool knelt?
And why?—the aim, the point on which he dwelt,
Is won-earth gives her all-in nothingness!
Then, first, is his immortal nature felt;

He strove for grandeur, and found worthlessness;

The greatness was the race, the prize could not be less.

LXI.

So Cæsar-Nature stamped thee one of those

Whose fiery spirits must ascend or die.

Conquering or revelling-aught save life's repose;

Thy very crimes attest the dignity

Of an immortal nature; and thy sigh

To be the first-to struggle onward still

Its grand but misdirected energy!

For, when thy least wish Fortune did fulfil,

What respite gave it thee, thou Man of restless will?

LXII.

And thou, Ariminum! the first to hail,
The immortal rebel on his march-how sprang

Thy Citizens from morning slumbers pale,
As the shrill trumpets through thy Forum rang!
The wild shouts of the soldiery—the clang
Of clashing arms--and, raised above the tide,
Cæsar himself, forgot the passing pang:

His brow inflamed with mingled wrath and pride; Standing like War let loose, with Até by his side!

LXIII.

The passionate harangue-the tears poured forth, Wrung from the fierce excitement of the hour! The answering thunder of the soldier's wrath, Whose rage is reason, and whose law is power! The consciousness of dangers, such as lower O'er him who dares against his country rear The Rebel's standard-cursed alike his dower, Failure, or triumph; rage-despair-and fearAll Man's most demon passions warred in chaos here!

LXIV.

And now, a Northern Wanderer from that Isle,

Which the soft Roman shivered but to name,
Stands here-while ardent thoughts of him beguile
Of whom all now is dream-like save his fame!
Oh! something more than breath is that whose flame

In the soul kindles through a thousand years,

The electric spark as if from heaven it came:

"Tis this immortal hope the spirit cheers

To climb Fame's toilsome path, and crush unworthy

fears.

LXV.

Yes, I have leaned on that grey stone which tells

His record to his fellow-soldiers sworn:

Dumb Witness! speaking, more than Oracles,

That sternest truth which must not be outworn:

Our moment of existence, so o'erborne,

And lost in the eternity of time;

What am I, leaning here, who idly mourn,
And build the unpremeditated rhyme ?—

A straw, to pass away, forgot my name, age, clime.

LXVI.

Yet, wandering, Rimini! by thy wild shore,
In caves where foot of man hath rarely trod,
Lulled by the music of the Ocean's roar,
And by my very stranger-mind o'eraw ed;

Then, when inspired, as by the Delphic God,
The Spirit of Poesy, entering my soul,

Bore my Thought, like the infinite Air, abroad,

I felt those inspirations of the soul

Might live, surviving death, and change, and time's con

trol.

LXVII.

And in that high faith I will live and die:

For it hath been to me a blessed dream!

Recalling me from fitful apathy,

And hopelessness, when life a blank did seem,
A desert waste;-with nothing to redeem
The wasted, fruitless, past, misguided hours;

If false, its own reward was bliss supreme!

The peace, the raptures of uncounted hours:

Pure loves and joys, which strewed life's flinty path with flowers!