And shall that soul, to selfish peace resigned, 10
So soon forget the woe its fellows share? 
Can Snowdon’s Lethe from the free-born mind
So soon the page of injured penury tear? 
Does this fine mass of human passion dare
To sleep, unhonouring the patriot’s fall, 15
Or life’s sweet load in quietude to bear
While millions famish even in Luxury’s hall,
And Tyranny, high raised, stern lowers on all?

No, Cambria! never may thy matchless vales
A heart so false to hope and virtue shield; 20
Nor ever may thy spirit-breathing gales
Waft freshness to the slaves who dare to yield. 
For me!...the weapon that I burn to wield
I seek amid thy rocks to ruin hurled,
That Reason’s flag may over Freedom’s field, 25
Symbol of bloodless victory, wave unfurled,
A meteor-sign of love effulgent o’er the world.

...

Do thou, wild Cambria, calm each struggling thought;
Cast thy sweet veil of rocks and woods between,
That by the soul to indignation wrought 30
Mountains and dells be mingled with the scene;
Let me forever be what I have been,
But not forever at my needy door
Let Misery linger speechless, pale and lean;
I am the friend of the unfriended poor,—­ 35
Let me not madly stain their righteous cause in gore.

***

THE WANDERING JEW’S SOLILOQUY.

[Published (from the Esdaile manuscript book) by Bertram Dobell, 1887.]

Is it the Eternal Triune, is it He
Who dares arrest the wheels of destiny
And plunge me in the lowest Hell of Hells? 
Will not the lightning’s blast destroy my frame? 
Will not steel drink the blood-life where it swells? 5
No—­let me hie where dark Destruction dwells,
To rouse her from her deeply caverned lair,
And, taunting her cursed sluggishness to ire,
Light long Oblivion’s death-torch at its flame
And calmly mount Annihilation’s pyre. 10
Tyrant of Earth! pale Misery’s jackal Thou! 
Are there no stores of vengeful violent fate
Within the magazines of Thy fierce hate? 
No poison in the clouds to bathe a brow
That lowers on Thee with desperate contempt? 15
Where is the noonday Pestilence that slew
The myriad sons of Israel’s favoured nation? 
Where the destroying Minister that flew
Pouring the fiery tide of desolation
Upon the leagued Assyrian’s attempt? 20
Where the dark Earthquake-daemon who engorged
At the dread word Korah’s unconscious crew? 
Or the Angel’s two-edged sword of fire that urged
Our primal parents from their bower of bliss
(Reared by Thine hand) for errors not their own 25
By Thine omniscient mind foredoomed, foreknown? 
Yes!  I would court a ruin such as this,
Almighty Tyrant! and give thanks to Thee—­
Drink deeply—­drain the cup of hate; remit this—­I may die.