Portraits from "The Last Day."
I. LORD CANNING.
And now I see a noble figure cast
In highest beauty's mould, whose lofty brow
Bespeaks a pure and gracious soul within.
He looks the image bright of Clemency;
And as he moves, lo! Peace attends his steps.
When a fierce hurricane swept o'er the East,
And men hurled Reason from her tottering throne,
With cheeks unblanched, stout heart, and iron nerves,
He curb'd their passions wild, and firmly check'd
War's blood-hounds in their merciless career,
And thus from ruin saved a classic land,
And fair Humanity from lasting shame.
Oh, baleful days! whose memory still sends
A thrill of horror through the circling veins!
Oh, stormy days! when lacerated Peace
Lay all but lifeless upon Mercy's lap,
And Virtue—Innocence—Religion's self,
Like storm-kiss'd flowers, with consternation shook;
While with infernal merriment, hell laughed
To find another hell produced on earth!
In that dread saturnalia of blood,
This righteous statesman stood revealed in all
His moral grandeur; violence and rapine
And lawlessness fled at his stern command;
He brought down Mercy from her heavenly bower,
The sword of Justice tempered with her dew!
II. RAJA RAMMOHAN ROY.
Among that saintly host, with thrilling joy
And pride, I see the bold Reformer, who
In darkest times flung off the yoke of Falsehood;
