To tyrannise the souls of men;

And, whilst he seemed himself to yield,

To rule their minds and guide their thoughts.

With what false faith and simpleness

Like garrulous old man, he talked

With those who were his peers in age,

Regretting happy, olden times!

With self-willed youths he freedom preached;

With discontents he darkly spake;

Shed tears of pity with the wronged;

With fools was wise and deeply grave.

A few, it may be, knew full well

That none could tame his iron will;

That he, by foul or honest blow,

Would surely thwart and crush his foe;

That never to his dying day

He pardoned or forgot a wrong;

That love of power heartless stretched

His crime-stained deeds and selfish schemes;

That naught was sacred in his eyes;

That kindness could ne'er touch his heart;

That ties of love were weak to bind;

That blood he freely shed unmoved;

That liberty he scoffed and scorned;

And that he knew no fatherland.

Long the traitor, false and cunning,

Had planned and mused a deadly plot;

But sharper, keener eyes than his,

Those of a foe, his scheme had bared.

"Nay, base kite, breeder foul of shame!"

The old man cried and gnashed his teeth,

"Thou needst not fear, I'll spare thy home,

My wretched daughter's prison-house;