XLII

"Where Passion stoops, or strays, is cold, or dead,

I lift from error, or to action thrill!

Or if it rage too madly in its bed,

The tempest hushes at my 'Peace! be still!'

I know how far its tides should sink or swell,

And they obey my sceptre and my spell.

Poems of Henry Timrod; with Memoir · 第 82 / 190 题