Page:Pocahontas, and Other Poems.djvu/290

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��COME to the hill of Mars, for he is there,

That wondrous man, whose eloquence doth touch

The heart like living flame. With brow unblanched,

And eye of fearless ardour, he confronts

That high tribunal with its pen of flint,

Whose irreversible decree made pale

The Gentile world. All Athens gathers near,

Fickle, and warm of heart, and fond of change,

And full of strangers, and of those who pass

Life in the idle toil to hear or tell

Of some new thing. See, thither throng the bands

Of Epicurus, wrapt in gorgeous robe,

Who seem with bright and eager eyes to ask

" What will this babbler say ? " With front austere

Stand a dark group of Stoics, sternly proud,

And pre-determined to confute : yet still

'Neath the deep wrinkles of their settled brow

Lurks some unwonted gathering of their powers,

As for no common foe. With angry frown

Stalk the fierce Cynics, anxious to condemn,

And prompt to punish, while the patient sons

�� �