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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=391650" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Statue Of The Dying Gladiator</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">COMMANDING pow'r! whose hand with plastic art<br>Bids the rude stone to grace and being start;<br>Swell to the waving line the polish'd form,<br>And only want Promethean fire to warm ;—<br>Sculpture, exult! thy triumph proudly see,<br>The Roman slave immortalized by thee!<br>No suppliant sighs, no terrors round him wait,<br>But vanquish'd valor soars above his fate!<br>In that fix'd eye still proud defiance low'rs,<br>In that stern look indignant grandeur tow'rs!<br>He sees e'en death, with javelin barb'd in pain,<br>A foe but worthy of sublime disdain! <br>Too firm, too lofty, for one parting tear,<br>A quiv'ring pulse, a struggle, or a fear!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh! fire of soul! by servitude disgrac'd,<br>Perverted courage! energy debas'd!<br>Lost Rome! thy slave, expiring in the dust,<br>Tow'rs far above Patrician rank, august!<br>While that proud rank, insatiate, could survey<br>Pageants that stain'd with blood each festal day!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh! had that arm, which grac'd thy deathful show,<br>With many a daring feat and nervous blow,<br>Wav'd the keen sword and rear'd the patriot-shield,<br>Firm in thy cause, on Glory's laureate field;<br>Then, like the marble form, from age to age,<br>His name had liv'd in history's brightest page; <br>While death had but secur'd the victor's crown,<br>And seal'd the suffrage of deserv'd renown!<br>That gen'rous pride, that spirit unsubdu'd,<br>That soul, with honor's high-wrought sense imbu'd,<br>Had shone, recorded in the song of fame,<br>A beam, as now, a blemish, on thy name! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yet here, so well has art majestic wrought,<br>Sublimed expression, and ennobled thought;<br>A dying Hero we behold, alone, <br>And Mind's bright grandeur animates the stone! <br>'Tis not th' Arena's venal champion bleeds,<br>No! 'tis some warrior, fam'd for matchless deeds!<br>Admiring rapture kindles into flame,<br>Nature and art the palm divided claim!<br>Nature (exulting in her spirit's pow'r,<br>To rise victorious in the dreaded hour,)<br>Triumphs, that death and all his shadowy train,<br>Assail a mortal's constancy—in vain! <br>And Art, rejoicing in the work sublime,<br>Unhurt by all the sacrilege of time,<br>Smiles o'er the marble, her divine control<br>Moulded to symmetry, and fir'd with soul!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Felicia+Dorothea+Hemans">Felicia Dorothea Hemans</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=391650" data-title="The Statue Of The Dying Gladiator de Felicia Dorothea Hemans" data-description="COMMANDING pow'r! whose hand with plastic art
Bids the rude stone to grace and being start;
Swell to the waving line the polish'd form,
And only want Promethean fire to warm ;—
Sculpture, exult! thy triumph proudly see,
The Roman slave immortali..."></div>
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