ll he repent
_440
His rash assault. See there escaped, he flies
Half-drowned, and clambers up the slippery bank
With ouze and blood distained. Of all the brutes,
Whether by Nature formed, or by long use,
This artful diver best can bear the want
Of vital air. Unequal is the fight,
Beneath the whelming element. Yet there
He lives not long; but respiration needs
At proper intervals. Again he vents;
Again the crowd attack. That spear has pierced
_450
His neck; the crimson waves confess the wound.
Fixed is the bearded lance, unwelcome guest,
Where'er he flies; with him it sinks beneath,
With him it mounts; sure guide to every foe.
Inly he groans; nor can his tender wound
Bear the cold stream. Lo! to yon sedgy bank
He creeps disconsolate; his numerous foes
Surround him, hounds and men. Pierced through and through,
On pointed spears they lift him high in air;
Wriggling he hangs, and grins, and bites in vain:
_460
Bid the loud horns, in gaily warbling strains,
Proclaim the felon's fate; he dies, he dies.
Rejoice, ye scaly tribes, and leaping dance
Above the wave, in sign of liberty
Restored; the cruel tyrant is no more.
Rejoice, secure and blessed; did not as yet
Remain, some of your own rapacious kind;
And man, fierce man, with all his various wiles.
O happy, if ye knew your happy state,
Ye rangers of the fields! whom Nature boon
_470
Cheers with her smiles, and every element
Conspires to bless. What, if no heroes frown
From marble pedestals; nor Raphael's works,
Nor Titian's lively tints, adorn our walls?
Yet these the meanest of us may behold;
And at another's cost may feast at will
Our wondering eyes; what can the owner more?
But vain, alas! is wealth, not graced with power.
The flowery landscape, and the gilded dome,
And vistas opening to the wearied eye,
_480
Through all his wide domain; the planted grove,
The shrubby wilderness with its gay choir
Of warbling birds, can't lull to soft repose
The ambitious wretch, whose discontented soul
Is harrowed day and night; he mourns, he pines,
Until his prince's favour makes him great.
See, there he comes, the exalted idol comes!
The circle's formed, and all his fawning slaves
Devoutly bow to earth; from every mouth
The nauseous flattery flows, which he returns
_490
With promises, that die as soon as born.
Vile intercourse! where virtue has no place.
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