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Comes she not, and come ye not,

Rulers of eternal thought,
To judge, with solemn truth, life's ill-apportioned lot?
Blind Love, and equal Justice, and the Fame

Of what has been, the Hope of what will be ? 0, Liberty ! if such could be thy name

Wert thou disjoined from these, or they from thee: If thine or theirs were treasures to be bought

By blood or tears, have not the wise and free
Wept tears, and blood like tears? The solemn harmony

XIX.
Paused, and the spirit of that mighty singing

To its abyss was suddenly withdrawn;
Then, as a wild swan, when sublimely winging

Its path athwart the thunder-smoke of dawn,
Sinks headlong through the aërial golden light

On the heavy sounding plain,

When the bolt has pierced its brain; As summer clouds dissolve, unburthened of their rain; As a far taper fades with fading night,

As a brief insect dies with dying day, My song, its pinions disarrayed of might,

Drooped; o'er it closed the echoes far away
Of the great voice which did its flight sustain,

As waves which lately paved his watery way
Hiss round a drowner's head in their tempestuous play.

THE END
[OF PROMETHEUS UNBOUND AND OTHER POEMS.]

CANCELLED PASSAGE OF THE ODE TO LIBERTY.

WITHIN a cavern of man's trackless spirit

Is throned an Image, so intensely fair
That the adventurous thoughts that wander near it

Worship, and as they kneel tremble and wear
The splendour of its presence, and the light

Penetrates their dreamlike frame Till they become charged with the strength of flame.

CEDIPUS TYRANNUS;

OR,

SWELLFOOT THE TYRANI.

A TRAGEDY.

IN TWO ACTS.

TRANSLATED FROM THE ORIGINAL DORIO.

Choose Reform or civil-war,
When thro' thy streets, instead of hare with dogs,
A CONSORT-QUEEN shall hunt a King with hogs,
Riding on the IONIAN MINOTAUR.

ADVERTISEMENT. THIS TRAGEDY is one of a triad, or system of three Plays, (an arrangement according to which the Greeks were accustomed to connect their Dramatic representations, elucidating the wonderful and appalling fortunes of the SWELLFOOT dynasty. It was evidently written by some learned Theban, and, from its characteristic dullness, apparently before the duties on the importation of Attic salt had been repealed by the Bæotarchs. The tenderness with which he treats the PIGS proves him to have been a sus Beotiæ; possibly Epicuri de grege porcus; for, as the poet observes,

"A fellow feeling makes us wond'rous kind.” No liberty has been taken with the translation of this remarkable piece of antiquity, except the suppressing a seditious and blasphemous Chorus of the Pigs and Bulls at the last act. The word Hoydipouse, (or more properly Edipus,) has been rendered literally SWELLFOOT, without its having been conceived necessary to determine whether a swelling of the hind or the fore feet of the Swinish Monarch is particularly indicated.

Should the remaining portions of this Tragedy be found, entitled, “Swell foot in Angaria,” and Charité;" the Translator might be tempted to give them to the reading Public.

EDIPUS TYRANNUS.

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.
TYRANT SWELLFOOT, King of Thebes.
IONA TAURINA, his Queen.
MAMMON, Arch-Priest of Famine.
PURGANAX
DAKRY Wizards, Ministers of SWELLFOOT.
LAOCTONOS
The GADFLY

Moses, the Sow.gelder.
The LEECH

SOLOMON, the Porkman.
The RAT

ZEPHANIAH, Pig Butcher,
The MINOTAUR.
Chorus of the Swinish Multitude,
GUARDS, ATTENDANTS, PRIESTS, &c., &c.

SCENE-THEBES.

ACT I. SCENE I.-A magnificent Temple, built of thigh-bones and

death's heads, and tiled with scalps. Over the Altar the statue of Famine, veiled ; a number of boars, sous, and sucking pigs, crowned with thistle, shamrock, and oak, sitting on the steps, and clinging round the altar

of the Temple. Enter SWELLFOOT, in his Royal robes, without perceiving

the Pigs.

SWELLFOOT.
Thou supreme Goddess ! by whose power divine
These graceful limbs are clothed in proud array

(He contemplates himself with satisfaction.).

10

15

Of gold and purple, and this kingly paunch
Swells like a sail before a favouring breeze,
And these most sacred nether promontories
Lie satisfied with layers of fat; and these
Baotian cheeks, like Egypt's pyramid,
(Nor with less toil were their foundations laid,")
Sustain the cone of my untroubled brain,
That point, the emblem of a pointless nothing!
Thou to whom Kings and laurelled Emperors,
Radical-butchers, Paper-money-millers,
Bishops and deacons, and the entire army
Of those fat martyrs to the persecution
Of stifling turtle-soup, and brandy-devils,
Offer their secret vows ! Thou plenteous Ceres
Of their Eleusis, hail !

THE SWINE.
Eigh! eigh! eigh! eigh!

SWELLFOOT.

Ha! what are ye,
Who, crowned with leaves devoted to the Furies,
Cling round this sacred shrine ?

SWINE.
Aigh! aigh, aigh !
SWELLFOOT.

What! ye that are
The very beasts that offered at her altar
With blood and groans, salt-cake, and fat, and inwards
Ever propitiate her reluctant will
When taxes are withheld ?

SWINE.
Ugh! ugh! ugh!
SWELLFOOT.

What! ye who grub
With filthy snouts my red potatoes up
In Allan's rushy bog? Who eat the oats

20

25

1 See Universal History for an account of the number of people who lied, and the immense consumption of garlick by the wretched Egyptians, who made a sepulchre for the name as well as the bodies of their tyrants.

Up, from my cavalry in the Hebrides?
Who swill the hog-wash soup my cooks digest
From bones, and rags, and scraps of shoe-leather,
Which should be given to cleaner Pigs than you ?

THE SWINE.

Semichorus I.
The same, alas! the same;
Though only now the name
Of pig remains to me.

Semichorus II.
If 'twere your kingly will
Us wretched swine to kill,
What should we yield to thee?

SWELLFOOT.
Why skin and bones, and some few hairs for mortar.

CHORUS OF SWINE.
I have heard your Laureate sing,
That pity was a royal thing;
Under your mighty ancestors, we pigs
Were bless'd as nightingales on myrtle sprigs,
Or grass-hoppers that live on noon-day dew,
And sung, old annals tell, as sweetly too,
But now our styes are fallen in, we catch

The murrain and the mange, the scab and itchi;
Sometimes your royal dogs tear down our thatclı,

And then we seek the shelter of a ditch;
Hog-wash or grains, or ruta baga, none
Has yet been ours since your reign begun.

FIRST Sow.
My pigs, 'tis in vain to tug.

SECOND Sow,
I could almost eat my litter.

FIRST PIG.
I suck, but no milk will come from the dug.

SECOND PIG.
Our skin and our bones would be bitter.

THE BOARS.
We fight for this rag of greasy rug,

Though a trough of wash would be fitter.

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