392 CONSOLATIONS OF SOLITUDE
Frown not — I intend no irreverence to thee,
Nor to him, thy dear friend, who crossed over the sea,
And left his gay land of the vineyard behind.
Whose sword for defence and whose heart for mankind
Leaped both but at sacred Humanity's call.
Brave foes to oppression ! I honor ye all.
Not for bloodshed, ah, no ! If I bend to your dust,
'Tis the tribute unconscious I yield to the just.
Yet Freedom hath friends as devoted, as brave. Who never drew sword on the field or the wave. Honored friend of mankind, who so lowly art laid Where the cypress of Russia affords thee its shade, Long wandering a pilgrim through Europe's domains, To lighten the burden of Infamy's chains ! Though no tears in that wilderness water thy grave, Yet thy name shall be dear to the morally brave. Not for genius men love thee, mild Howard ; 'twas thine But to teach how the human may reach the divine !
And thou too, O Sharp, whose benevolent mind
Sought in action no end but the good of mankind,
Who the soil of thine England to bondsmen made free !
Wreathe the fingers of Glory no chaplet for thee.
Since the last of life's tempests hath swept o'er thy head ?
Yes, the halo of virtue shall round thee be shed.
World-citizen, speak ! For what conqueror's fame
Wouldst thou yield the mute reverence that clings to thy name }
Nay, it needs not; thy wish I see stamped on thy face.
Not to perish for glory, but live for thy race.
Go, citizen soldier, e'en fly to the spade !
I care not how humbly thou dwellest in shade,
So thy thoughts on no schemes of aggrandizement brood.
No visions of rapine, no phantoms of blood.
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