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Ah! whence is that flame which now bursts on his eye ?

Ah! what is that sound which now larums his ear? 'Tis the lightning's red glare, painting wrath on the sky !

'Tis the crashing of thunders, the groan of the sphere! 5 He springs from his hammock,—he flies to the deck,

Amazement confronts him with images dire,
Wild winds and mad waves drive the vessel a wreck,-

The masts fly in splinters,—the shrouds are on fire!
Like mountains the billows tremendously swell:

In vain the lost wretch calls on mercy to save ;
Unseen hands of spirits are ringing his knell,

And the death angel flaps his broad wing o'er the wave.
O sailor boy! woe to thy dream of delight !

In darkness dissolves the gay frost-work of bliss ; 15 Where now is the picture that fancy touched bright,

Thy parents' fond pressure, and love's honied kiss ?
O sailor boy! sailor boy! never again

Shall home, love, or kindred, thy wishes repay ;
Unblessed, and unhonored, down deep in the main,
20 Full many a score fathom, thy frame shall decay.
No tomb shall e'er plead to remembrance for thee,

Or redeem form or fame from the merciless surge; But the white foam of waves shall thy winding-sheet be,

And winds, in the midnight of winter, thy dirge ! 25 On a bed of green sea-flower thy limbs shall be laid ;

Around thy white bones the rerl coral shall grow;
Of thy fair, yellow locks, threads of amber be made,

And every part suit to thy mansion below.

Days, months, years, and ages, shall circle away, 30 And still the vast waters above thee shall roll: Earth loses thy pattern for ever and aye;

O sailor boy! sailor boy! peace to thy soul!


Crist. Tell me, Gustavus, tell me why is this,
That, as a stream diverted from the banks
Of smooth obedience, thou hast drawn these men
Upon a dry unchanneled enterprise
To turn their inundation ? Are the lives
Of my misguided people held so light,
That thus thou 'dst push them on the keen rebuke



Of guarded majesty ; where justice waits
All awful and resistless, to assert
Th' impervious rights, the sanctitude of kings;

And blast rebellion ?
6 Gust. Justice, sanctitude,

And rights! O patience ! Rights! what rights, thou tyrant ?
Yes, if perdition be the rule of power,
If wrongs give right, Oh ! then, supreme in mischief,

Thou wert the lord, the monarch of the world, 10 Too narrow for thy claim. But if thou thinkist

That crowns are vilely propertied, like coin,
To be the means, the specialty of lust,
And sensual attribution; if thou think'st

That empire is of titled birth or blood ; 15 That nature, in the proud behalf of one,

Shall disenfranchise all her lordly race,
And bow her general issue to the yoke
Of private domination; then, thou proud one,

Here know me for thy king! Howe'er be told. 20 Not claim hereditary, not the trust

Of frank election,
Not e'en the high anointing hand of Heaven,
Can authorize oppression, give a law

For lawless power, wed faith to violation, 25 On reason build misrule, or justly bind

Allegiance to injustice. Tyranny
Absolves all faith; and who invades our rights,
Howe'er his own commence, can never be

But an usurper. But for thee, for thee
30 There is no name ! Thou hast ab ured mankind,

Dashed safety from thy bleak, unsocial side,
And waged wild war with universal nature.

Crist. Licentious traitor! thou canst talk it largely
Who made thee umpire of the rights of kings,
35 And power, prime attribute; as on thy tongue

The poise of battle lay, and arms of force
To throw defiance in the front of duty ?
Look round, unruly boy! thy battle comes,

Like raw, disjointed, mustering feeble wrath, 40 A war of waters, borne against a rock

Of our firm continent, to fume, and chafe,
And shiver in the toil.

Gust. Mistaken man!
I come empowered and strengthened in thy weakness.

For though the structure of a tyrant's throne
Rise on the necks of half the suffering world,
Fear trembles in the cement; prayers, and tears,

And secret curses, sap its mouldering base, 5 And steal the pillars of allegiance from it;

Then let a single arm but dare the sway,
Headlong it turns, and drives upon destruction.

Crist. Profane, and alien to the love of Heaven !
Art thou still hardened to the wrath divine,
10 That hangs o'er thy rebellion ? Know'st thou not

Thou art at enmity with grace, cast out,
Made an anathema, a curse enrolled
Among the faithful, thou and thy adherents,

Shorn from our holy church, and offered up 15 As sacred to perdition ?

Gust. Yes, I know,
When such as thou, with sacrilegious hand,
Seize on the apostolic key of heaven,

It then becomes a tool for crafty knaves
20 To shut out virtue, and unfold those gates

That Heaven itself had barred against the lusts
Of avarice and ambition. Soft and sweet,
As looks of charity or voice of lambs

That bleat upon the mountain, are the words 25 Or Christian meekness! mission all divine !

The law of love, sole mandate. But your gall,
Ye Swedish prelacy, your gall hath turned
The words of sweet but undigested peace,
To wrath and bitterness.

Ye hallowed men, 30 In whom vice sanctifies, whose precepts teach

Zeal without truth, religion without virtue ;
Sacked towns, and midnight howlings, through the realm
Receive your sanction! Oh! 't is glorious mischief!

When vice turns holy, puts religion on, 35 Assumes the robe pontifical, the eye

Of saintly elevation, blesseth sin,
And makes the seal of sweet offended Heaven
A sign of bloo

Crist. No more of this !
40 Gustavus, wouldst thou yet return to grace,

And hold thy motions in the sphere of duty,
Acceptance might be found.

Gúst. Imperial spoiler!
Give me my father, give me back my


Give me the fathers of ten thousand orphans,
Give me the sons in whom thy ruthless sword
Jlas left our widows childless. Mine they were,

Both mine and every Swede's, whose patriot breast 5 Bleeds in his country's woundings. Oh! thou canst not!

Thou hast outsinned all reckoning! Give me, then,
My all that 's left, my gentle mother there,
And spare yon little trembler.

Crist. Yes, on terms
10 Of compact and submission.

Gust. Ha! with thee!
Compact with thee! and mean'st thou for my country,
For Sweden? No,-so bold my heart but firm,

Although it wring for 't, though blood drop for tears, 15 And at the sight my straining eyes dart forth,

They both shall perish first !


[Bajazet and other Turkish prisoners in chains, under guard.]

Tam. When I survey the ruins of this field,
The wild destruction, which thy fierce ambition
Has dealt among mankind; (so many widows

And helpless orphans has thy battle made,
5 That half our Eastern world this day are mourners ;)

I, in behalf of heaven and earth,
Demand from thee atonement for this wrong.

Baj. Make thy demand of those that own thy power!

Know, I am still beyond it; and though fortune 10 Has stript me of the train and pomp of greatness, That outside of a king; yet still


soul, Fixed high, and of itself alone dependent, Is ever free and royal; and even now,

As at the head of battle, does defy thee.
15 I know what power the chance of war has given,

And dare thee to the use of 't. This vile speeching,
This after-game of words, is what most irks me:
Spare that, and for the rest 't is equal all,

Be it as it may.
20 Tam. Well was it for the world,

When, on their borders neighboring princes met,
Frequent in friendly parle, by cool debates
Preventing wasteful war : such should our nieeting
Have been, hadst thou but held in just regard

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The sanctity of leagues so often sworn to.
Canst thou believe thy prophet, or, what's more,
That Power Supreme, which made thee and thy prophet,

Will, with impunity let pass that breach
5 Of sacred faith given to the royal Greek?

Baj. Thou pedant talker ! ha! art thou a king
Possessed of sacred power, Heaven's darling attribute,
And dost thou prate of leagues, and oaths, and prophets ?

I hate the Greek, (perdition on his name !)
10 As I do thee, and would have met you both,
As death does human nature, for destruction.

Tam. Causeless to hate, is not of human kind:
The savage brute that haunts in woods remote

And desert wilds, tears not the fearful traveller,
15 If hunger, or some injury provoke not.

Baj. Can a king want a cause, when empire bids
Go on? What is he born for, but ambition ?
It is his hunger,—'t is his call of nature,

The noble appetite which will be satisfied,
20 And, like the food of gods, makes him immortal.

Tam. Henceforth, I will not wonder we were foes,
Since souls that differ so by nature, hate,
And strong antipathy forbid their union.

Baj. The noble fire, that warms me, does indeed
25 Transcend thy coldness. I am pleased we differ,
Nor think alike.

Tam. No: for I think like a man,
Thou like a monster; from whose baleful

Nature starts back; and though she fixed her stamp
30 On thy rough mass, and marked thee for a man,

Now, conscious of her error, she disclaims thee,
As formed for her destruction.
'T is true, I am a king, as thou hast been ;

Honor and glory too have been my aim;
35 But though I dare face death, and all the dangers

Which furious war wears in its bloody front,
Yet would I choose to fix my name by peace,
By justice, and by mercy; and to raise

My trophies on the blessings of mankind :
40 Nor would I buy the empire of the world

With ruin of the people whom I sway,
On forfeit of my honor.

Baj. Confusion! wouldst thou rob me of my glory?
Whilst I, (Oh ! blast the power that stops my ardor,)

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