THE WORLD-CONQUEROR.

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BY MRS. E. J. EAMES.

———

“And looking round, he sat down and wept,

because he saw no other worlds to conquer!”

Alone! alone with night and Heaven,

The mighty Macedonian stood;

The searching stars looked down on him,

To whom their glorious light seemed dim,

To whom such boundless thoughts seemed given

By old Hyphasis’ flood!

Boundless yet on those haughty features

There dwelt a mournfulness profound;

And the shadow of a painful thought

Upon that kingly brow was wrought,

He who subdued earth’s countless creatures—

He—the world-conqueror crowned!

Yes! there, beside the silent river,

On which the moonbeams sweetly slept—

By which the green and graceful palm,

Rose ever stately still and calm—

There did the monarch’s heart-strings quiver—

For lo! the victor wept!

Yea, wept, though all the nations rendered

Meek homage to his sovereign will;

His soldier-bands their king adored—

And all victorious with his sword,

’Mid trophies, crowns, and laurels splendid—

Mark what was wanting still!

“I see no other worlds!—and Heaven

Bends o’er me with prophetic eye;

Alas! my wild and wildering glance

Can never pierce that starred expanse,

Yon radiant sphere may not be given,

My aims to gratify!

Hath not this oft-told tale a moral,

Impressive of the vanity

To which all human hopes must tend—

To where ambitious flights must end!—

For still Earth’s proudest crown and laurel,

Mock poor mortality!”