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Me the sport of ribald Veterans, mine of ruffian
See they sit, they hide their faces, miserable in
Wherefore in me burns an anger, not by blood to
Lo the palaces and the temple, lo the colony Cámu-
There they ruled, and thence they wasted all the
Thither at their will they haled the yellow-ringleted
Bloodily, bloodily fall the battle-axe, unexhausted,
Shout Icenian, Catieuchlanian, shout Coritanian,
Till the victim hear within and yearn to hurry pre-
Like the leaf in a roaring whirlwind, like the smoke
Lo the colony, there they rioted in the city of Cú-
There they drank in cups of emerald, there at tables
Rolling on their purple couches in their tender
There they dwelt and there they rioted; there -
Burst the gates, and burn the palaces, break the
Take the hoary Roman head and shatter it, hold
Cut the Roman boy to pieces in his lust and volup-
Lash the maiden into swooning, me they lash'd and
Chop the breasts from off the mother, dash the
Up my Britons, on my chariot, on my chargers, trample them under us.'
So the Queen Boädicéa, standing loftily charioted, Brandishing in her hand a dart and rolling glances lioness-like,
Yell'd and shrieked between her daughters in her fierce volubility.
Till her people all around the royal chariot agitated, Madly dash'd the darts together, writhing barbarous lineäments,
Made the noise of frosty woodlands, when they shiver in January,
Roar'd as when the rolling breakers boom and blanch on the precipices,
Yell'd as when the winds of winter tear an oak on a promontory.
So the silent colony hearing her tumultuous adver
Clash the darts and on the buckler beat with rapid unanimous hand,
Thought on all her evil tyrannies, all her pitiless avarice,
Till she felt the heart within her fall and flutter
Then her pulses at the clamoring of her enemy fainted away.
Out of evil evil flourishes, out of tyranny tyranny buds.
Ran the land with Roman slaughter, multitudinous agonies.
Perish'd many a maid and matron, many a valorous legionary.
Fell the colony, city, and citadel, London, Verulam, Cámulodúne.
O MIGHTY-MOUTH'D inventor of harmonies,
Milton, a name to resound for ages;
Rings to the roar of an angel onset Me rather all that bowery loneliness, The brooks of Eden mazily murmuring, And bloom profuse and cedar arches
Charm, as a wanderer out in ocean, Where some refulgent sunset of India Streams o'er a rich ambrosial ocean isle, And crimson-hued the stately palmwoods Whisper in odorous heights of even.
O YOU chorus of indolent reviewers,
Waking laughter in indolent reviewers.
They should speak to me not without a welcome,
Hard, hard, hard is it, only not to tumble,
Wherefore slight me not wholly, nor believe me
SPECIMEN OF A TRANSLATION OF THE
So Hector said, and sea-like roar'd his host;
* Or, ridge.
Shine, and the Shepherd gladdens in his heart:
* Or, more literally —
And eating hoary grain and pulse the steeds