XXI. And here and there, as up the crags you spring, Mark many rude-carved crosses near the path: Yet deem not these devotion's offering— These are memorials frail of murderous wrath: For wheresoe'er the shrieking victim hath Pour'd forth his blood beneath the assassin's knife Some hand erects a cross of mouldering lath; And grove and glen with thousand such are rife Throughout this purple land, where law secures not life. XXII. On sloping mounds, or in the vale beneath, Are domes where whilome kings did make repair; When wanton Wealth her mightiest deeds hath done, Meek Peace voluptuous lures was ever wont to shun. XXIII. Here didst thou dwell, here schemes of pleasure plan, And frequent turn to linger as you go, XXI. And here and there, as up the crags you spring, Mark many rude-carved crosses near the path: Yet deem not these devotion's offeringThese are memorials frail of murderous wrath: For wheresoe'er the shrieking victim hath Pour'd forth his blood beneath the assassin's knife Some hand erects a cross of mouldering lath ; And grove and glen with thousand such are rife Throughout this purple land, where law secures not life. XXII. On sloping mounds, or in the vale beneath, Are domes where whilome kings did make repair; When wanton Wealth her mightiest deeds hath done, Meek Peace voluptuous lures was ever wont to shun. XXIII. Here didst thou dwell, here schemes of pleasure plan, But now, as if a thing unblest by man, XXIV. Behold the hall where chiefs were late convened! Oh! dome displeasing unto British eye! With diadem hight foolscap, lo! a fiend, A little fiend that scoffs incessantly, There sits in parchment robe array'd, and by His side is hung a seal and sable scroll, Where blazon'd glare names known to chivalry, And sundry signatures adorn the roll, Whereat the urchin points and laughs with all his soul. XXV. Convention is the dwarfish demon styled XXVI. And ever since that martial synod met, And folks in office at the mention fret, And fain would blush, if blush they could, for shame. How will posterity the deed proclaim ! Will not our own and fellow-nations sneer, To view these champions cheated of their fame, XXVII. So deem'd the Childe, as o'er the mountains he Sweet was the scene, yet soon he thought to flee, And conscious Reason whisper'd to despise XXVIII. To horse! to horse! he quits, for ever quits But seeks not now the harlot and the bowl. XXIX. Yet Mafra shall one moment claim delay, Where dwelt of yore the Lusian's luckless queen; |