CANTO IX.]
DON JUAN.
377
IX.
Never had mortal man such opportunity,
Except Napoleon, or abused it more:
You might have freed fallen Europe from the unity
Of Tyrants, and been blest from shore to shore:
And now—what is your fame? Shall the Muse tune it ye?
Now—that the rabble's first vain shouts are o'er?
Go! hear it in your famished country's cries!
Behold the World! and curse your victories!
Never had mortal man such opportunity,
Except Napoleon, or abused it more:
You might have freed fallen Europe from the unity
Of Tyrants, and been blest from shore to shore:
And now—what is your fame? Shall the Muse tune it ye?
Now—that the rabble's first vain shouts are o'er?
Go! hear it in your famished country's cries!
Behold the World! and curse your victories!
X.
As these new cantos touch on warlike feats,
To you the unflattering Muse deigns to inscribe[R 1]
Truths, that you will not read in the Gazettes,
But which 't is time to teach the hireling tribe
Who fatten on their country's gore, and debts,
Must be recited—and without a bribe.
You did great things, but not being great in mind.
Have left undone the greatest—and mankind.
As these new cantos touch on warlike feats,
To you the unflattering Muse deigns to inscribe[R 1]
Truths, that you will not read in the Gazettes,
But which 't is time to teach the hireling tribe
Who fatten on their country's gore, and debts,
Must be recited—and without a bribe.
You did great things, but not being great in mind.
Have left undone the greatest—and mankind.
XI.
Death laughs—Go ponder o'er the skeleton
With which men image out the unknown thing
That hides the past world, like to a set sun
Which still elsewhere may rouse a brighter spring—
Death laughs at all you weep for!—look upon
This hourly dread of all! whose threatened sting
Turns Life to terror, even though in its sheath:
Mark! how its lipless mouth grins without breath!
Death laughs—Go ponder o'er the skeleton
With which men image out the unknown thing
That hides the past world, like to a set sun
Which still elsewhere may rouse a brighter spring—
Death laughs at all you weep for!—look upon
This hourly dread of all! whose threatened sting
Turns Life to terror, even though in its sheath:
Mark! how its lipless mouth grins without breath!
XII.
Mark! how it laughs and scorns at all you are!
And yet was what you are; from ear to ear
It laughs not—there is now no fleshy bar
So called; the Antic long hath ceased to hear,
But still he smiles; and whether near or far,
He strips from man that mantle (far more dear
Mark! how it laughs and scorns at all you are!
And yet was what you are; from ear to ear
It laughs not—there is now no fleshy bar
So called; the Antic long hath ceased to hear,
But still he smiles; and whether near or far,
He strips from man that mantle (far more dear
- ↑ To you this one unflattering Muse inscribes.—MS. erased.]
London towards the payment of his debts, or £30,000 from the King's Privy Purse, see Pitt, by Lord Rosebery, 1891, p. 231.]
