L.

In silence, and in arms! With helm--with sword-- These are no marriage garments! Yet e’en now Thy nuptial feast should grace the regal board, Thy Georgian bride should wreathe her lovely brow With an imperial diadem![214]--but thou, O fated prince! art call’d, and these with thee, To darker scenes; and thou hast learn’d to bow Thine Eastern sceptre to the dread decree, And count it joy enough to perish--being free!