ked, as friend to friend,
And wove his garland of the light'ning's wing,
In sportive twist;--the light'ning's fiery wing,
Which, as the footsteps of the dreadful God,
Marching up the storm in vengeance, seemed
Then turned: and with the grasshopper, who song
His evening song beneath his feet, conversed,
Suns, moons, and stars, and clouds, his sisters were,
Rocks, mountains, meteors, seas, and winds, and storms,
His brothers; younger brothers, whom he scarce
As equals deemed. All passions of all men,
The wild, the same, the gentle, the severe;
All thoughts, all maxims, sacred and profane,
All creeds, all seasons, time, eternity:
All that was hated, and all that was dear,
All that was hoped, all that was feared by man,
He tossed about as tempest withered leaves.
Then smiling looked upon the wreck he made.
With terror now he froze the cowering blood,
And now dissolved the heart in tenderness,
Yet would not tremble, would not weep himself,
But back into his soul retired, alone.
Dark sullen, proud, gazing contemptuously
On hearts and passions prostrate at his feet,
So ocean from the plains, his waves had late
To desolation swept, retired in pride,
Exulting in the glory of his might,
And seemed to mock the ruin he had wrought,
As some fierce comet of tremendous size,
To which the stars did reverence as it passed,
So he, through learning and through fancy took
His flight sublime, and on the loftiest top
Of fame's dread mountain sat. Not soiled and worn
As if he from the earth had labored up,
But as some bird of heavenly plumage fair
He looked, which down from higher regions came,
And perched it there to see what lay beneath.
The nations gazed and wondered much and praised;
Critics before him fell in humble plight,
Confounded fell and made debasing signs
To catch his eye; and stretched, and swelled themselves
To bursting nigh, to utter bulky words
Of admiration vast: and many, too
Many, that aimed to imitate his flight,
With weaker wing, unearthly fluttering made,
And gave abundant sport to after days.

Great man! the nations gazed and wondered much,
And praised and many called his evil good.
Wits wrote in favor of his wickedness;
And kings to do him honor took delight:
Thus full of titles, flattery, honor, fame,
Beyond desire, beyond ambition, full;
He died!--he died of what? of wretchedness!
Drank every cu