Page:Poems - Southey (1799) volume 1.djvu/33

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17

 Why should the wearying cares of state  Oppress the Monarch with their weight?  Alike to him if Peace shall bless The multitude with happiness;Alike to him if frenzied War Careers triumphant on the embattled plain,  And rolling on o'er myriads slain,With gore and wounds shall clog his scythed car.  What tho' the tempest rage! no soundOf the deep thunder shakes his distant throne,  And the red flash that spreads destruction round,Reflects a glorious splendour on the Crown.
 Where is the Man who with ennobling pride Beholds not his own nature? where is he Who but with deep amazement awe allied Must muse the mysteries of the human mind,   The miniature of Deity.For Man the vernal clouds descending  Shower down the fertilizing rain,For Man the ripen'd harvest bending
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