Page:The Siege of Valencia.pdf/33

LII.

And they have reach'd a gorgeous chamber, bright
With all we dream of splendour; yet a gloom
Seems gather'd o'er it to the boding sight,
A shadow that anticipates the tomb!
Still from its fretted roof the lamps illume
A purple canopy, a golden throne;
But it is empty!—Hath the stroke of doom
Pall'n there already?—Where is He, the One,

Born that high seat to fill, supremely and alone?

LIII.

Oh! there are times whose pressure doth efface
Earth's vain distinctions!—when the storm beats loud,
When the strong towers are tottering to their base,
And the streets rock,—who mingle in the crowd?
—Peasant and chief, the lowly and the proud,
Are in that throng!—Yes, life hath many an hour
Which makes us kindred, by one chast'ning bow'd,
And feeling but, as from the storm we cower,

What shrinking weakness feels before unbounded power!