Classic Poem

AS " RICHELIEU. "

Thou art that puissant man who could withstand
The will of kings, who paved a gory way
Up to fame's temple; destined to command
With rigid brows, with cruel, crafty sway.

France felt his might and dared not disobey,
When, scarlet-robed, imperious, and grand
He held her white throat in his bony hand.
Stained with the blood of Cinq-Mars and Chalais!

History revived breathes in thy language terse:
Thy brow is gray with shadows of foul racks;
Tiger then fox, thine iron passions wax
Strong, and tower up like some black plumed hearse!
For e'en when hurling forth thy churchly curse,
I see behind thee gleam the headman's axe!