Poems by Victor Hugo - HTML preview

CROMWELL AND THE CROWN.

("Ah! je le tiens enfin.")
     {CROMWELL, Act II., October, 1827.}

THURLOW communicates the intention of Parliament to
     offer CROMWELL the crown.

       CROMWELL. And is it mine? And have my feet at length
     Attained the summit of the rock i' the sand?

       THURLOW. And yet, my lord, you have long reigned.

       CROM.                                   Nay, nay!
     Power I have 'joyed, in sooth, but not the name.
     Thou smilest, Thurlow. Ah, thou little know'st
     What hole it is Ambition digs i' th' heart
     What end, most seeming empty, is the mark
     For which we fret and toil and dare! How hard
     With an unrounded fortune to sit down!
     Then, what a lustre from most ancient times
     Heaven has flung o'er the sacred head of kings!
     King—Majesty—what names of power! No king,
     And yet the world's high arbiter! The thing
     Without the word! no handle to the blade!
     Away—the empire and the name are one!
     Alack! thou little dream'st how grievous 'tis,
     Emerging from the crowd, and at the top
     Arrived, to feel that there is something still
     Above our heads; something, nothing! no matter—
     That word is everything.

     LEITCH RITCHIE.