In dungeons vile they pass'd the day, Far from their country, far away From pitying friends, from liberty! That years could scarce retrieve! Twas thus Miranda play'd his game; But who with him should share the blame? Perhaps if we the men did name, Credulity would not believe! [188] From the edition of 1815. Miranda was a Spanish-American revolutionist, who devoted his life to the emancipation of Venezuela from Spanish rule. His first expedition was a failure. ON THE ABUSE OF HUMAN POWER As exercised over opinion[189] What human power shall dare to bind The mere opinions of the mind? Must man at that tribunal bow Which will no range to thought allow, But his best powers would sway or sink, And idly tells him what to Think? Yes! there are such, and such are taught To fetter every power of thought; To chain the mind, or bend it down To some mean system of their own, And make religion's sacred cause Amenable to human laws. Has human power the simplest claim Our hearts to sway, our thoughts to tame; Shall she the rights of heaven assert, Can she to falsehood truth convert, Or truth again to falsehood turn, And at the test of reason spurn? All human sense, all craft must fail And all its strength will nought avail, When it attempts with efforts blind To sway the independent mind, Its spring to break, its pride to awe, Or give to private judgment, law. Oh impotent! and vile as vain, They, who would native thought restrain! As soon might they arrest the storm Or take from fire the power to warm, As man compel, by dint of might, Old darkness to prefer to light. No! leave the mind unchain'd and free, And what they ought, mankind will be, No hypocrite, no lurking fiend, No artist to some evil end, But good and great, benign and just, As God and nature made them first. [189] From the edition of 1815. OCTOBER'S ADDRESS[190] October came the thirtieth day: And thus I heard October say; "The lengthening nights and shortening days Have brought the year towards a close, The oak a leafless bough displays And all is hastening to repose; To make the most of what remains Is now to take the greater pains. "An orange hue the grove assumes, The indian-summer-days appear; When that deceitful summer comes Be sure to hail the winter near: If autumn wears a mourning coat Be sure, to keep the mind afloat. "The flowers have dropt, their blooms are gone, The herbage is no longer green; The birds are to their haunts withdrawn, The leaves are scatter'd through the plain; The sun approaches Capricorn, And man and creature looks forlorn.