516 
CRITICAL NOTICES OF NEW PUBLICATIONS. 
A conqueror’s soul unconquer’d of a boy— 
The plagues of Egypt settle on her head, 
This witch, this prophetess, that dogg’d our march, 
Like a demoniac starting from the tombs— 
What fatal inspiration sent her forth 
To hail our land with the croak of doom ? 
‘ When thou art bearded by a Christian youth, 
‘ And call’d a Renegado to thy face, 
‘Then lost Francesco! then,’ the siby! cried, 
‘Calamity impends, defeat and death ;’ 
A spell is round my path—now, like a knell, 
The braggart’s taunts are ringing in mine ears ;— 
What boot my honours, my most high estate, 
My faith abjured, and fortune for the change, 
If this rash boy has summ’d my lease of days, 
And cut me short of Paradise on earth ? 
What, unto minds of purpose and resource, 
Is equal bliss to homage and control, 
Hark undisputed, awe that keeps them worshipp’d, 
And pays ‘het tribute of all things below ? 
Poor are the puling ecstasies of love, 
To that most spiritual sense of self-existence 
Which shares with heaven the thunder-spell of power, 
And, among mortals, crowns one mortal—God ! 
I hear a whisper darkle on the air, 
I see no speaker, but 1 feel the spell, 
Which way I turn, its voice is in mine ear, 
It saith, it saith,—the ruler is a man, 
And man is mortal—that I knew before. 
To mar my course that knowledge I defy ! 
Then, come what may, come whatsoever can, 
All ills in life, or woes beyond the grave, 
The die is cast, and I must on—on—on— 
Hence, chill forbodings ! terror-stirring qualms ! 
Decision’s blight ! Ambition! thou alone, 
Fill up the mighty compass of my hopes 
And stamp the grand climacteric of my fate ! 
Form mea perfect renegade, in this, 
To stand absolv’d of every human tie, 
And be stone-dead to pity, or remorse— 
Avaunt! away! uneasy whispers, down ! 
Conquest my cry, be greatness my reward !” 
