What mighty thoughts, that will not be repressed,
Warm his wild mood, and swell his laboring breast;
What glorious memories of the immortal strife,
Which gave him fame, and took from Carthage life;
That giant-like, sea rival of his own
Proud realm, still challenging the sway and throne;
Doomed in long conflict, through experience dread,
To bend the neck at last, to bow the head;
To feel his foot upon her lordly brow,
And yield to him who shares her ruins now.