Page:Poems - Southey (1799) volume 1.djvu/41

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He ceas'd, and silent still remain'd the throngWhilst rapt attention own'd the power of song.Then loud as when the wintry whirlwinds blowFrom every voice the thundering plaudits flow;Darius smil'd, Apame's sparkling eyesGlanc'd on the King, and Woman won the prize.
Now silent sat the expectant crowd: AloneThe victor Hebrew gaz'd not on the throne;With deeper hue his cheek distemper'd glows,With statelier stature loftier now he rose;Heavenward he gaz'd, regardless of the throng,And pour'd with awful voice sublimer song.
Ancient of Days! Eternal Truth! one hymnOne holier strain the Bard shall raise to thee,Thee Powerful! Thee Benevolent! Thee Just!Friend! Father! All in All! the Vine's rich blood,The Monarch's might, and Women's conquering charms,—These shall we praise alone? Oh ye who sitBeneath your vine, and quaff at evening hour
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