Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1900.djvu/330

  It tells the conqueror
        That far-stretch'd power,
Which his proud dangers traffic for,
  Is but the triumph of an hour:

  That from the farthest North,
        Some nation may,
Yet undiscover'd, issue forth,
  And o'er his new-got conquest sway:

  Some nation yet shut in
        With hills of ice
May be let out to scourge his sin,
  Till they shall equal him in vice.

  And then they likewise shall
        Their ruin have;
For as yourselves your empires fall,
  And every kingdom hath a grave.

  Thus those celestial fires,
        Though seeming mute,
The fallacy of our desires
  And all the pride of life confute:—

  For they have watch'd since first
        The World had birth:
And found sin in itself accurst,
  And nothing permanent on Earth.