* * * * *

High on the rock, the God, with furious look,
From side to side his burning thunder shook:
Now here, now there, the scattering lightnings broke,
And the wide vallies flamed, and glowed with sulphurous smoke:
Contagious terror roll'd from plain to plain;
Cold Anio trembled in his watery reign;
And dazzled by the withering flames, o'eraw'd,
The chief shrunk back, and own'd the present God.




FRAGMENT, IN IMITATION OF WALTER SCOTT.


1.

Where are the kings of ancient sway?
Where are the terrors of their day,
The chiefs that with glory bled?
Soon, soon their little sun was o'er;
And, hurried to oblivion's shore,
Their very names are fled!
Yet can the Muse from fate redeem
Her favourites here below;
Can check Time's all-devouring stream
In its eternal flow;