XV. And Virtue cannot dwell with slaves, nor reign. O'er those who cower to take a tyrant's yoke; She left the down-trod nations in disdain, And flew to Greece, when Liberty awoke, New-born, amid those glorious vales, and broke Sceptre and chain with her fair youthful hands: As rocks are shivered in the thunder-stroke. And lo! in full-grown strength, an empire stands Of leagued and rival states, the wonder of the lands. XVI. Oh, Greece! thy flourishing cities were a spoil That yet shall read thy tale, will-tremble at thy crimes. XVII. Yet there was that within thee which has saved Thy glory, and redeemed thy blotted name; On fame's unmouldering pillar, puts to shame Our chiller virtue; the high art to tame And the pure ray, that from thy bosom came, Far over many a land and age has shone, And mingles with the light that beams from God's own throne XVIII. And Rome-thy sterner, younger sister, she Yet her degenerate children sold the crown Of earth's wide kingdoms to a line of slaves; Guilt reigned, and wo with guilt, and plagues came down, Till the north broke its floodgates, and the waves Whelmed the degraded race, and weltered o'er their graves. XIX. Vainly that ray of brightness from above, The light of hope, the leading star of love, In that stern war of forms, a mockery and a name. XX. They triumphed, and less bloody rites were kept The well-fed inmates pattered prayer, and slept, Sheltering dark orgies that were shame to tell, And cowled and barefoot beggars swarmed the way, All in their convent weeds, of black, and white, and gray. XXI. Oh, sweetly the returning muses' strain Swelled over that famed stream, whose gentle tide Sweet, as when winter storms have ceased to chide, Send out wild hymns upon the scented air. Lo! to the smiling Arno's classic side The emulous nations of the west repair, And kindle their quenched urns, and drink fresh spirit there XXII. Still, Heaven deferred the hour ordained to rend From saintly rottenness the sacred stole ; And cowl and worshipped shrine could still defend The wretch with felon stains upon his soul; And crimes were set to sale, and hard his dole Shielded by priestly power, and watched by priestly eyes XXIII. At last the earthquake came-the shock, that hurled To dust, in many fragments dashed and strown, The throne, whose roots were in another world, And whose far-stretching shadow awed our own. From many a proud monastic pile, o'erthrown, Fear-struck, the hooded inmates rushed and fled; The web, that for a thousand years had grown O'er prostrate Europe, in that day of dread Crumbled and fell, as fire dissolves the flaxen thread. XXIV. The spirit of that day is still awake, And spreads himself, and shall not sleep again; But through the idle mesh of power shall break Like billows o'er the Asian monarch's chain; Till men are filled with him, and feel how vain, Instead of the pure heart and innocent hands, Are all the proud and pompous modes to gain The smile of heaven ;-till a new age expands Its white and holy wings above the peaceful lands. XXV. For look again on the past years ;-behold, How like the nightmare's dreams have flown away Held, o'er the shuddering realms, unquestioned sway: See nations blotted out from earth, to pay The forfeit of deep guilt ;—with glad embrace The fair disburdened lands welcome a nobler race. XXVI. Thus error's monstrous shapes from earth are driven; All blended, like the rainbow's radiant braid, Pour yet, and still shall pour, the blaze that cannot fade. XXVII. Late, from this western shore, that morning chased |