Think'st thou, could he--the blind old man--arise,
Like Samuel from the grave, to freeze once more
The blood of monarchs with his prophecies,
Or be alive again--again all hoar
With time and trials, and those helpless eyes,
And heartless daughters--worn--and pale--and poor:
Would _he_ adore a sultan? _he_ obey
The intellectual eunuch Castlereagh?