Chapter LVII

Alas! another came: his blandishment,
The fascination of his smooth address,
That read so well the very heart's intent,
And could so well its every thought express,--[7]
Won thy fair spirits to his dark design,
And gave our country, too, her Cataline.
He lives--the Roman traitor dared to die!
Yet, in their different fates, behold the homily.