[96]
A SHEAF GLEANED
Ho! Forts and fields! Ho! Kings and churls!
'Tis he—succumb!
But thou,—for thee, lo, here are girls,
Tom Thumb, Tom Thumb.
He rode o'er mountains and o'er plains.
And held confined
Within his palm, the guiding reins
Of all mankind.
His glories would the navies sink
So vast their sum!
For thee—see blood, come run and drink,
Tom Thumb, Tom Thumb.
Dark, dark archangel—but he fell!
Earth felt the sound,
And ocean opened by a spell
Its gulf profound.
Down headlong—but his name through time
Shall overcome—
Thou too shalt drown, but drown in slime,
Tom Thumb, Tom Thumb.
