Small love. Yet not for this—that it assures

Too much to man—this would not me offend:

But for I know that all such schemes will end

With leaving him too little,—will deprive

Of that free energy by which we live:

For of such plots the final act attend—

See them who loathed the very name of king,

Emulous in slavery, bow their souls before

The new-coined title of some meaner thing

Than ever crown of king or emperor wore;

For such in God’s and Nature’s righteousness,

The weakness which avenges all excess.

{47}

{47}

SONNET TO SILVIO PELLICO, ON READING THE ACCOUNT OF HIS IMPRISONMENT.

Ah! who may guess, who yet was never tried

Ah

How fearful the temptation to reply

With wrong for wrong, yea fiercely to defy

In spirit, even when action is denied?

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