"Onward we went--but slack and slow; 625
His savage force at length o'erspent,
The drooping courser, faint and low,
All feebly foaming went.
A sickly infant had had power
To guide him forward in that hour; 630
But useless all to me.
His new-born tameness nought avail'd--
My limbs were bound; my force had fail'd,
Perchance, had they been free.
With feeble effort still I tried 635
To rend the bonds so starkly tied--
But still it was in vain;
My limbs were only wrung the more,
And soon the idle strife gave o'er,
Which but prolong'd their pain. 640
The dizzy race seem'd almost done,
Although no goal was nearly won:
Some streaks announced the coming sun--
How slow, alas! he came!
Methought that mist of dawning gray 645
Would never dapple into day;
How heavily it roll'd away--
Before the eastern flame
Rose crimson, and deposed the stars,
And call'd the radiance from their cars, 650
And filled the earth, from his deep throne,
With lonely lustre, all his own.