The ancient seed should be perpetuate, ...
That precious seed revered so long, desired
So dearly, and so wonderously preserved.
Nay, he replied, Heaven hath not with its bolts
Scathed the proud summit of the tree, and left
The trunk unflaw’d; ne’er shall it clothe its boughs
Again, nor push again its scyons forth,
Head, root, and branch, all mortified alike!...
Long ere these locks were shorn had I cut off
The thoughts of royalty! Time might renew