The future scorned, the past defied;
Still tempering, from the unguilty forge
Of vain conceit, an iron scourge!
IV
Proud Remnant was he of a fearless Race,[19]
Who stood and flourished face to face
With their perennial hills;—but Crime,
Hastening the stern decrees of Time,
Brought low a Power, which from its home
Burst, when repose grew wearisome;