And thrill the pulse!—Ay, strength no pangs could tame
Hath look’d from woman’s eye upon the sword and flame!
LV.
And this is of such hours!—That throne is void,
And its lord comes uncrown’d. Behold him stand,
With a calm brow, where woes have not destroy’d
The Greek’s heroic beauty, midst his band,
The gather’d virtue of a sinking land—
Alas! how scanty! Now is cast aside
All form of princely state; each noble hand