Alexandria gazette & daily advertiser. [volume] (Alexandria [Va.]) 1817-1822, 1818-07-25
ALEXANDRIA:
SATURDAY MORNING, JULY s5, 1918
Nv. cANTo OF CHILDE HAROLD.
IConti,,ued.l

For mat QlSteInpeT Ol iue soul, "uiSh ~
ter hurrying its victims through course oil
crime, rarely or never fails to precIpltate
them into the gulf of ruin, and, whatever
they in their fond yearnings may hope 10
the contrary, into infamy also*-we mean
ambition-the history of every part OF the
world presents what ought to be remedies,
in prodigious abundance, and no part OF II
greater number of powerful ones than that
of Rome. This feature of the Roman an
mails has not been lost upon Lord Byron !;
who has selected from the multitude OF ag-
gressors upon the tranquility of mankind,
some of the most prominent, and presented
their portraits to his readers in full and bold
relief; heroes, demigods, the comets OF vul-
gar eyes, who drew the gaze Of the world
upon their names and actions, but " 1rhose
dust uas scattered long ago, and rhose
tombs noup contain no ashes.
" Oh thou, whose chariot roll'd on fortunes
wheel,
Triumphant Sylla! Thou who didst subdue
/ Thy country's foes ere thou wouldst pause
to feel
The wrath of thy own wrongs, or reap the
due
OF boarded vengeance till thine eagles flew
Ger PROSTATE Asia thou, who with thy
frown,
Annihilated senates-Roman, too,
With all thy vices, for thou didst lay down
With an atoning smile more than earthly
crown.
, The dictatorial wreath--couldst thou di-
To what would one day dwindle that which
made
Thee more than mortal and that so supine
BY augh, thanRomans Rome should thus be
laid
! She who was nam'd eternal, and array'd
Her warriors but to oonquer--she who veil'd
Earth with her naughty shadow, and dis
play'd
Until the o'er.canoried horizon fail'd
Her rushing wings-Oh! she who was al
mighty hail'd!
"Sylla was first of victors but our own
The sagest of usurpers, CROMWELL he
Too swept off senates while be hew'd the
throne
Down 10 block-immortal rebel see
, What crimes it costs to be moment free
And famous through all ages but beneath
His fate the moral turks OF destiny;
His day Of double victory and death
ID IL.
yield his breath.
The third OF the same moon whose for
rner course
Had all but crown'd him, on the selfssme
day
Deposed him gently from his throne Of
force.
And laid him with the earth's preceding
clay.
And show'd not fortune thus how fame and
sway,
And all we deem delightful, and consume
Our souls 10 compass through each arduous
way,
Are in her eyes less happy than the tomb?
Were they but so in mans, how different
were his doom!
And thou dread statue yet existent in
The austere form of naked majesty,
Thou who beheldst. mid the assassin's din,
AT thy bath'd base the bloody Caesar lie,
Folding his robe in dying dignity,
An offering to thine altar from the queen
OF gods ard men, great Nemesis! did he
die,
And thou too perish, Pompey? have we been
Victors of countless kings, or puppets Of
scene
And thou, the thunder stricken nurse of
Rome
he-wolf! whose brazen-imaged dugs i'm
part
The milk Of conquests yet within the dome
Where, as monument Of antique art,
Thou standest-mother OF the mighty heart
Which the great founder suck'd from thy
wild teat,
srorch'd by the Roman Jove's ethereal
dart,
And thy limbs black with lightning, dost
thou yet
Guard thine immortal cubs, nor thy fond
charge forget
Thou dost but all thy foster babes are
dead
The men of iron; and the world hath
rcar'd
Cities from out their sepulchres men bled
In imitation of the things they fear'd,
And fought and conquered, and the same
course steer'd
Az apish distance; but as yet none have.
Nor could the same supremacy have heard,
Save one vain man, who is not in the grave
But, vanquish'd by himself, to his own
slaves slave
" The fool of false dominion-and kind
Of bastard Cesar, following him Of old
With steps unequal for the Romans mind