Though fix’d on him, his children’s suppliant eyes
Implore the aid avenging fate denies;
Though with the giant-snake in fruitless strife,
Heaves every muscle with convulsive life,
And in each limb existence writhes, enroll’d
Midst the dread circles of the venom’d fold;
Yet the strong spirit lives—and not a cry
Shall own the might of Nature’s agony!
That furrow’d brow unconquer’d soul reveals,
That patient eye to angry Heaven appeals,