Felicia Hemans

“ Whose azure knows no cloud:—each whisper'd sigh
Of the soft night-breeze through her terrace-bowers
Bore softer tones of joy and melody,
O'er an illumin'd wilderness of flowers;
And the glad city's voice went up from all her towers. ”

“ His eye was bright, and yet the deep repose
Of his pale features half o'erawed the mind,
And imag'd forth a soul whose joys and woes
Were of a loftier stamp than aught assign'd
To earth; a being seal'd and sever'd from mankind. ”

“ The king of men, the monarch, rob'd with might,
Trembles before a shadow!—say not so!
The child of dust, with guilt's prophetic sight,
Shrinks from the Dread Unknown, th' avenging Infinite.
But haste ye!—bring Chaldea's gifted seers,
The men of prescience!—haply to their eyes,
Which track the future through the rolling spheres,
Yon mystic sign may speak in prophecies.
They come,—the readers of the midnight skies,
They that give voice to visions!—but in vain! ”