The quarry whence thy form majestic sprung
Has peopled earth with grace,
Heroes and gods that elder bards have sung,
A bright and peerless race;
But from its sleeping veins ne’er rose before
A shape of loftier name
Than his, who Glory’s wreath with meekness wore,
The noblest son of Fame.
Sheathed is the sword that...
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Mark me how still I am!—The sound of feet
Unnumbered echoing through this vaulted hall,
Or voices harsh, on me unheeded fall,
Placed high in my memorial niche and seat,
In cold and marble meditation meet
Among proud tombs and pomp funereal
Of rich sarcophagi and sculptured wall,—
In death’s elaborate elect retreat.
I was a Prince... -
Anonymous translation from the French
THE WORK is done! the spent flame burns no more,
The furnace fires smoke and die,
The iron flood boils over. Ope the door,
And let the haughty one pass by!
Roar, mighty river, rush upon your course,
A bound,—and, from your dwelling past,
Dash forward, like a torrent from its source,
A... -
The enthusiast brooding in his cell apart
O'er the sad image of the Crucified,---
The drooping head, closed lips and piercéd side,---
A holy vision fills his raptured heart;
With heavenly power inspired, his unskilled arm
Shapes the rude block to this...