‘Fallen, as Napoleon fell.’—I felt my cheek
Alter, to see the shadow pass away, _225
Whose grasp had left the giant world so weak
That every pigmy kicked it as it lay;
And much I grieved to think how power and will
In opposition rule our mortal day,
And why God made irreconcilable _230
Good and the means of good; and for despair
I half disdained mine eyes’ desire to fill
With the spent vision of the times that were
And scarce have ceased to be.—‘Dost thou behold,’
Said my guide, ‘those spoilers spoiled, Voltaire, _235
‘Frederick, and Paul, Catherine, and Leopold, And hoary anarchs, demagogues, and sage— names which the world thinks always old,
‘For in the battle Life and they did wage,
She remained conqueror. I was overcome _240
By my own heart alone, which neither age,
‘Nor tears, nor infamy, nor now the tomb
Could temper to its object.’—‘Let them pass,’
I cried, ‘the world and its mysterious doom
‘Is not so much more glorious than it was, _245
That I desire to worship those who drew
New figures on its false and fragile glass
‘As the old faded.’—‘Figures ever new
Rise on the bubble, paint them as you may;
We have but thrown, as those before us threw, _250
‘Our shadows on it as it passed away.
But mark how chained to the triumphal chair
The mighty phantoms of an elder day;