‘Thou hast beheld that fight—when to thy home
Thou dost return, steep not its hearth in tears; _425
Though thou may’st hear that earth is now become
The tyrant’s garbage, which to his compeers,
The vile reward of their dishonoured years,
He will dividing give.—The victor Fiend,
Omnipotent of yore, now quails, and fears _430
His triumph dearly won, which soon will lend
An impulse swift and sure to his approaching end.
Thou dost return, steep not its hearth in tears; _425
Though thou may’st hear that earth is now become
The tyrant’s garbage, which to his compeers,
The vile reward of their dishonoured years,
He will dividing give.—The victor Fiend,
Omnipotent of yore, now quails, and fears _430
His triumph dearly won, which soon will lend
An impulse swift and sure to his approaching end.