VIII.

So thou hast writ the word, and sign'd thy doom: Farewell, and pass upon thy gory way, The direful skein the pausing Fates resume! Let not the Elysian grove thy steps delay From thy Promethean goal.

The fatal tree the abhorrent word retain'd, Till the last Battle on its bloody strand Flung what were nobler had no life remain'd,-- The crownless front and the disarmed hand And the' foil'd Titan Soul;