I may not hope,--or fear,--still unsubdued,
As when I ruled the anarchy of Heaven,
I stand in Fate's despite,--firm and impassive
To all that Chance, and Time, and Ruin bring.
--In that disastrous day, when this vast world
Shall, like a tempest-shaken edifice,
Rock into giant fractures--as the sound
Of the Archangel's trump, upon the deep,
Bids fall the bonds of nature, to let forth
Destruction's formless fiend from world to world,
Trampling the stars to darkness,--Even then,
Like that proud Roman exile, musing o'er
The dust of fallen Carthage, I shall stand,
Myself a solemn wreck, calm and unmoved
Among the ruins of the works of God.
And my last look shall be a look of triumph
O'er the fallen pillars of the deep and sky;
The wreck of nature by my deeds prepared--
Deeds--which o'erpay the power of Destiny.
_Blackwood's Magazine._
* * * * *
THE GATHERER.
"A snapper-up of unconsidered trifles."
SHAKSPEARE.
ON A PICTURE OF HERO AND LEANDER.
_By T.
Pages:
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71