XXXVII.

Conqueror and Captive of the Earth art thou!

She trembles at thee still, and thy wild name[hv]

Was ne'er more bruited in men's minds than now

That thou art nothing, save the jest of Fame,

Who wooed thee once, thy Vassal, and became[hw]

The flatterer of thy fierceness—till thou wert

A God unto thyself; nor less the same

To the astounded kingdoms all inert,

Who deemed thee for a time whate'er thou didst assert.

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