224 PRIDb's PlCtURES, 



Where are your Scipio's gone ? whence your Solons, now : 

 Brave Troy's prodigious madmen — serfs of pride ? 



Fame's Alexander, where ? Beneath thy brow 

 Of knowledge and all other good, beside ? 



Vain trumpery, all — and fitted for the bad : 



Nor will the sensible and thinking man 

 Believe that e'er thou hadst — or ever had 



The power or gift men's destinies to scan. 



Sad were the mysteries of Helen's fame — 

 As sad, albeit, the fame of Rome appears : 



God of the Bible ! alone thou hast a name, — 

 Let knowledge wipe away my mental tears : — 



Dry up the rivers upon my mind's estate. 



Lest irrigation overwhelm the soil ; 

 And the dread war of intellect, too late. 



Destroy this being — Pride's untiring coil. 



The voice of Nature musing on the breeze : 



This heaven-poised sphere of earth, on which I tread : 



The foliage of tlie flowers, the plants, the trees, 

 They do but tell of pride — the pride that's dead. 



Egyptian grandeur, reminiscent still. 



Adorns th' ignorance of Pagan death ; 

 Jerusalem in her weeds — and Zion's hill. 



Red Calvary, that owns a Saviour's breath. 



The Sphynx upon the plain — gigantic tomb ! 



Mecca's false shrine, less frantic than of old. 

 Impugn base Pride, in mind's illumin'd womb. 



While yet the victims sleep in death, clay-cold. 



Wild Asia's tabor, whence .'' the Doric reed ? 



The sounding shell, with music's soft-toned lute ? 

 The Phyrric dance — Apollo's guilty creed — 



Your demi-gods of horror ? — speechless, mute ! 



Greece lost her intellectual spirits, too. 



When reason reeled, beneath Pride's damning scorn : 



The Stagyrite himself was Pride's great foe — ■ 

 Plato, Isocrates, whose sense my verse adorn. 



Matchless in Beauty's oriental smiles. 



See, where the queen of loveliness doth hide 



Her scalding tears, from Venice and her isles — 

 Suborned and tortured, too, by incest Prides 



