NOT only that thy puissant arm could bind The tyrant of a world; and, conquering Fate, Enfranchise Europe, do I deem thee great; But that in all thy actions I do find Exact propriety: no gusts of mind Fitful and wild, but that continuous state Of order'd impulse mariners await In some benignant and enriching wind, -- The breath ordain'd of Nature. Thy calm mien Recalls old Rome, as much as thy high deed; Duty thine only idol, and serene When all are troubled; in the utmost need Prescient; thy country's servant ever seen, Yet sovereign of thyself, whate'er may speed. |