Page:The West Indies, and Other Poems.djvu/145

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135

O'er the wide champaign while they pass, Their footsteps yield no sound,

Nor shake from the light trembling grass A dew-drop to the ground.

Among the undistinguish'd hosts,

My wondering eyes explore Awful, sublime, terrific ghosts,

Heroes and kings of yore : —

Tyrants, the comets of their kind, Whose withering influence ran

Through all the promise of the mind, And smote and mildew'd man : —

Sages, the pleiades of earth, Whose genial aspects smiled.

And flowers and fruitage sprang to birth O'er all the human wild.

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