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One word, but one, and thou may'st stay ;Firm spirit, wilt thou turn away?
A dull deep pause—that hush of breath
One still, stern look from him,-
Resolve, no grief must dim;-
46. THE SPIDER AND THE BEE.—Anonymous.
With viscous thread, and finger fine,
Beneath the casement's pendant roof,
Enraged, he plies his buzzing wings,
With dread, with gladness, with surprise,
But as the spider came in view,
With lengthened arms the snares he plied,
And now with cautious steps and slow,
47. THE FIRST WANDERER.—Jewsbury: Creation's heir!-the-first, the last,
That knew the world his own ;-
And changed his soul within,
Told the dark secret-sin!
Unaided and alone on earth,
He bade the heavens give ear;-
Kept silence in its sphere;
Angelic legions stray ;-
His guilty foot away.
The world before him spread ;-
And breathed rebuke and dread :
Fierce thunder-peal, and rocking gale,
Answered the storm-swept sea, Whilst crashing forests joined the wail ;
And all said—“ Cursed for thee.” This, spoke the lion's prowling roar,
And this, the victim's cry;
For ever met his eye:
Proclaimed just heaven's decree,
Alike said" Cursed for thee."
Of life's now narrow span,
They too proclaimed the ban.
Seen, in the murderer's doom ;
Felt, in the infant's tomb.
His being, birth, or name,
That Man is still the same.
Still, strives his soul within ;
The same dark secret-sin.
Before proud Rome's imperial throne;
In mind's unconquered mood, As if the triumph were his own,
The dauntless captive stood :
With slow and stately tread,
That day in triumph led,
Unbowed his head, unbent his knee,
A free and fearless glance he cast
On temple, arch, and tower,
Of Rome's victorious power;
And now he stood, with brow serene,
Where slaves might prostrate fall; Bearing a Briton's manly mien
In Cæsar's palace-hall; Claiming, with kindling brow and cheek, The privilege even there to speak.
Nor could Rome's haughty lord withstand
The claim that look preferred ; But motioned, with uplifted hand,
The suppliant should be heard, If he, indeed, a suppliant were, Whose glance demanded audience there.
Deep stillness fell on all the crowd,
From Claudius on his throne,
At his imperial tone;
“Think not, thou eagle lord of Rome,
And master of the world,
In triumph now is furled,
“I might, perchance, could I have deigned
To hold a vassal's throne,
A king, in name alone ::
" Then through Rome's crowded streets this day,
I might have rode with thee;
But fetterless and free ;-
“But canst thou marvel that,-freeborn,
With heart and hope unquelled,
By thy permission held ?
“ Rome, with her palaces, and towers,
By us unwished, unrest,
To Britain might have left ;-
“I might have bowed before,—but where
Had been thy triumph now? To my resolve no yoke to bear
Thou owest thy laureled brow; Inglorious victory had been thine, And more inglorious bondage mine.
“Now I have spoken,—do thy will; Be life or death
To me it matters not:
He ceased. From all around upsprung
A murmur of applause ;
Maintained their holy cause :