Classic Poem

Oh! how it burns the brain, and tramples down
All other thoughts that struggle to be freed
From their imprisonment, driving them back
With its stern mandate, or its sterner frown;
And ruling from its heaven-exalted throne
The meaner serfs that form the motley herd!
In vain do they attempt to intercede—
Presuming slaves, that cross their monarch's track—
Death to them all! The menial tribes have stirred
The anger of their king. Degenerate pack!
Cringe—kneel—before this giant of the mind,
This reigning thought, which liveth there enshrined!
Thoughts that did once at my mere bidding move,
Are now the vassals of the tyrant—L OVE !