That the coil’d snake may bask on sculptured stone,
And nations clear the forest, to prepare
For the wild fox and wolf more stately dwellings there!
XCVII.
But thou! that on thy ramparts proudly dying,
As a crown’d leader in such hours should die,
Upon thy pyre of shiver’d spears art lying,
With the heavens o’er thee for a canopy,
And banners for thy shroud! No tear, no sigh,
Shall mingle with thy dirge; for thou art now