From court intrigue, from bickering

faction far;

Beneath the chestnut-tree Love's tale was

told,

And to the tinkling of the light guitar, Sweet stoop'd the western sun, sweet rose the evening star.

XXXVI.

S that sea-cloud, in size like human hand,

When first from Carmel by the Tishbite

seen,

Came slowly over-shadowing Israel's land, A while, perchance, bedeck'd with

colours sheen,

While yet the sun-beams on its skirts had been,

Limning with purple and with gold its shroud,

Till darker folds obscured the blue

serene,

And blotted heaven with one broad sable

cloud,

Then sheeted rain burst down, and whirl

winds howl'd aloud :-
:-

XXXVII.

VEN so, upon that peaceful scene was

pour'd,

Like gathering clouds, full many a foreign band,

And HE, their Leader, wore in sheath his sword,

And offer'd peaceful front and open hand,

Veiling the perjured treachery he plann'd, By friendship's zeal and honour's specious guise,

Until he won the passes of the land;

Then burst were honour's oath, and friendship's ties !

He clutch'd his vulture grasp, and call'd fair Spain his prize.

XXXVIII.

N Iron Crown his anxious forehead

bore;

And well such diadem his heart became,

Who, ne'er his purpose for remorse gave

o'er,

Or check'd his course for piety or shame ;

Who, train'd a soldier, deem'd a soldier's

fame

Might flourish in the wreath of battles

won,

Though neither truth nor honour deck'd his name;

Who, placed by fortune on a Monarch's throne,

Reck'd not of Monarch's faith, or Mercy's

kingly tone.

XXXIX.

ROM a rude isle his ruder lineage

came,

The spark, that, from a suburb-hovel's hearth

Ascending, wraps some capital in flame,

Hath not a meaner or more sordid birth. And for the soul that bade him waste the earth

The sable land-flood from some swamp

obscure,

That poisons the glad husband-field with dearth,

And by destruction bids its fame endure,

Hath not a source more sullen, stagnant, and

impure.

XL.

EFORE that Leader strode a shadowy form;

Her limbs like mist, her torch like meteor show'd,

With which she beckon'd him through fight and storm,

And all he crush'd that cross'd his desperate road,

Nor thought, nor fear'd, nor look'd on what he trod.

Realms could not glut his pride, blood could not slake,

So oft as e'er she shook her torch abroad

It was AMBITION bade her terrors

wake,

Nor deign'd she, as of yore, a milder form to

take.

XLI.

O longer now she spurn'd at mean revenge,

Or staid her hand for conquer'd foeman's moan;

As when, the fates of aged Rome to change,

By Cæsar's side she cross'd the
Rubicon.

Nor joy'd she to bestow the spoils she won,

As when the banded powers of Greece were task'd

To war beneath the youth of Macedon :

No seemly veil her modern minion ask'd,

He saw her hideous face, and loved the fiend unmask'd,