James Joseph Sylvester
Yes! on the annals of my race,
In characters of flame,
Which time shall dim not nor deface,
I'll stamp, my deathless name.
The fire which on my vitals preys,
And inly smouldering lies,
Shall flash out to a meteor's blaze
And stream along the skies.
Clafed as the angry ocean's swell
My soul within me boils,
Like a chained monarch in his cell,
Or lion in the toils.
To wealth, to pride, to lofty state,
No more I'll bend the knee,
But Fortune's minions, meanly great,
Shall stoop their necks to me.
The God which formed ...