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A poem by Lord Byron |
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Translation from Horace. 'Justum et tenacem', etc. |
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Title: Translation from Horace. 'Justum et tenacem', etc. Author: Lord Byron [More Titles by Byron] 1. The man of firm and noble soul No factious clamours can controul; No threat'ning tyrant's darkling brow Can swerve him from his just intent: Gales the warring waves which plough, By Auster on the billows spent, To curb the Adriatic main, Would awe his fix'd determined mind in vain.
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Hurtling his lightnings from above, With all his terrors there unfurl'd, He would, unmov'd, unaw'd, behold; The flames of an expiring world, Again in crashing chaos roll'd, In vast promiscuous ruin hurl'd, Might light his glorious funeral pile: Still dauntless 'midst the wreck of earth he'd smile. -THE END- GO TO TOP OF SCREEN |