And all unharmed by what befalls
Poor wanderers in this world of woe,—
Ambition, well-directed, dwells,
While songs of sorrow, care, and grief,
Give place to martial music's swells,
Which proudly hail the victor chief.
Yet not alone—without a friend
To share his toil-bought honours great,
And by congenial spirit lend
New splendour to his regal state—