Skip to content
ReadingWillow structured literacy program for Australian students
Poetry Library

— Stephen Crane

I stood upon a high place,

And saw, below, many devils

Running, leaping,

And carousing in sin.

…

Read full poem →

adjective

Engaged in or ready for action; characterized by energetic work, thought, or speech.

“The students were very active in class discussions, asking many thoughtful questions.”

Know more →

IRENE.

51 lines
Samuel Johnson·1709–1784
✦
SPASIA.Tranquillity and guilt, disjoin'd by heaven,Still stretch in vain their longing arms afar;Nor dare to pass th' insuperable bound.Ah! let me rather seek the convent's cell;There, when my thoughts, at interval of prayer,Descend to range these mansions of misfortune,Oft shall I dwell on our disastrous friendship,And shed the pitying tear for lost Irene. IRENE.Go, languish on in dull obscurity;Thy dazzled soul, with all its boasted greatness,Shrinks at th' o'erpow'ring gleams of regal state,Stoops from the blaze, like a degen'rate eagle,And flies for shelter to the shades of life. ASPASIA.On me should providence, without a crime,The weighty charge of royalty confer;Call me to civilize the Russian wilds,Or bid soft science polish Britain's heroes;Soon should'st thou see, how false thy weak reproach,My bosom feels, enkindled from the sky,The lambent flames of mild benevolence,Untouch'd by fierce ambition's raging fires. IRENE.Ambition is the stamp, impress'd by heav'nTo mark the noblest minds; with active heatInform'd, they mount the precipice of pow'r,Grasp at command, and tow'r in quest of empire;While vulgar souls compassionate their cares,Gaze at their height, and tremble at their danger:Thus meaner spirits, with amazement, markThe varying seasons, and revolving skies,And ask, what guilty pow'r's rebellious handRolls with eternal toil the pond'rous orbs;While some archangel, nearer to perfection,In easy state, presides o'er all their motions,Directs the planets, with a careless nod,Conducts the sun, and regulates the spheres. ASPASIA.Well may'st thou hide in labyrinths of soundThe cause that shrinks from reason's pow'rful voice.Stoop from thy flight, trace back th' entangled thought,And set the glitt'ring fallacy to view.Not pow'r I blame, but pow'r obtain'd by crime;Angelick greatness is angelick virtue.Amidst the glare of courts, the shout of armies,Will not th' apostate feel the pangs of guilt,And wish, too late, for innocence and peace,Curst, as the tyrant of th' infernal realms,With gloomy state and agonizing pomp?
✦