MAZEPPA

 ("Ainsi, lorsqu'un mortel!") 
 
 {XXXIV., May, 1828.} 
 
 As when a mortal—Genius' prize, alack! 
 Is, living, bound upon thy fatal back, 
 Thou reinless racing steed! 
 In vain he writhes, mere cloud upon a star, 
 Thou bearest him as went Mazeppa, far 
 Out of the flow'ry mead,— 
 So—though thou speed'st implacable, (like him, 
 Spent, pallid, torn, bruised, weary, sore and dim, 
 As if each stride the nearer bring 
 Him to the grave)—when comes the time, 
 After the fall, he rises—KING! 
 
 H.L. WILLIAMS 


 

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