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Heaven By Moscow self-devoted to a blaze
aiding Of dreadful sacrifice; by Russian blood
Heroism Lavished in fight with desperate hardihood;
The unfeeling Elements no claim shall raise
To rob our Human-nature of just praise
For what she did and suffered. Pledges sure
Of a deliverance absolute and pure
She gave, if Faith might tread the beaten ways
Of Providence. But now did the Most High
Exalt his still small voice ;—to quell that Host
Gathered his power, a manifest ally;
He, whose heapedwavesconfounded the proud boast
Of Pharaoh, said to Famine, Snow, and Frost,
“ Finish the strife by deadliest victory!"
The ABRUPTLY paused the strife;—the field throughout Germans on Resting upon his arms each warrior stood, the Heights Checked in the very act and deed of blood, of Hochheim
With breath suspended, like a listening scout.
O Silence ! thou wert mother of a shout
That through the texture of yon azure dome
Cleaves its glad way, a cry of harvest home
Uttered to Heaven in ecstasy devout !
The barrier Rhine hath flashed, through battle-
On men who gaze heart-smitten by the view,
As if all Germany had felt the shock!
-Fly, wretched Gauls: eretheythe charge renew Who have seen—themselves now casting off the
yoke The unconquerable Stream his course pursue.
Now that all hearts are glad, all faces bright, King
Our aged Sovereign sits, to the ebb and how George III.
November Of states and kingdoms, to their joy or woé,
Insensible. He sits deprived of sight,
And lamentably wrapt in twofold night,
Whom no weak hopes deceived ; whose mind
Through perilous war, with regal fortitude,
Peace that should claim respect from lawless Might.
Dread King of Kings, vouchsafe a ray divine
To his forlorn condition ! let thy grace
Upon his inner soul in mercy shine ;
Permit his heart to kindle, and to embrace
(Though it were only for a moment's space)
The triumphs of this hour; for they are Thine!
DEAR Reliques ! from a pit of vilest mould Feelings of Uprisen—to lodge among ancestral kings ; a French And to inflict shame's salutary stings
Royalist on On the remorseless hearts of men grown old
Occasioned INTREPID sons of Albion ! not by you by the Battle Is life despised ; ah no, the spacious earth of Waterloo Ne'er saw a race who held, by right of birth,
many objects to which love is due :
Ye slight not life—to God and Nature true;
But death, becoming death, is dearer far,
When duty bids you bleed in open war:
Hence hathyour prowess quelled that impious crew.
Heroes !—for instant sacrifice prepared ;
Yet filled with ardour and on triumph bent
'Mid direst shocks of mortal accident-
To you who fell, and you whom slaughter spared
To guard the fallen, and consummate the event,
Your Country rears this sacred Monument !
Siege of O, FOR a kindling touch from that pure flame
Vienna Which ministered, erewhile, to a sacrifice
Of gratitude, beneath Italian skies,
Sobieski In words like these. “Up, Voice of song! proclaim
Thy saintly rapture with celestial aim :
For lo! the Imperial City stands released
From bondage threatened by the embattled East,
And Christendom respires; from guilt and shame
Redeemed, from miserable fear set free
By one day's feat, one mighty victory.
-Chant the Deliverer's praise in every tongue !
The Cross shall spread, the Crescent hath waxed
He conquering, as in joyful Heaven is sung,
HE CONQUERING THROUGH GOD, AND GOD BY HIM.
The Bard-whose soul is meek as dawning day, Occasioned Yet trained to judgments righteously severe,
by the Battle
Fervid, yet conversànt with holy fear,
As recognising one Almighty sway:
He—whose experienced eye can pierce the array
Of past events; to whom, in vision clear,
The aspiring heads of future things appear,
Like mountain-tops whose mists have rolled
Assoiled from all encumbrance of our time,
He only, if such breathe, in strains devout
Shall comprehend this victory sublime ;
Shall worthily rehearse the hideous rout,
The triumph han, which from their peaceful clime
Angels might welcome with a choral shout!
EMPERORS and Kings, how oft have temples rung Emperors
With impious thanksgiving, the Almighty's scorn! and Kings,
How oft above their altars have been hung
to your Trophies that led the good and wise to mourn
Triumphant wrong, battle of battle born,
And sorrow that to fruitless sorrow clung !
Now, from Heaven-sanctioned victory, Peace is
In this firm hour Salvation lifts her horn.
Glory to arms! But, conscious that the nerve
Of popular reason, long mistrusted, freed
Your thrones, ye Powers, from duty fear to swerve!
Be just, be grateful ; nor, the oppressor's creed
Reviving, heavier chastisement deserve
Than ever forced unpitied hearts to bleed.
Sonnets dedicated to Liberty and Order
Levelling “ People! your chains are severing link by link; of Classes Soon shall the Rich be levelled down the Poor 1831 Meet them half way.” Vain boast ! for These,
They thus would rise, must low and lower sink
Till, by repentance stung, they fear to think;
While all lie prostrate, save the tyrant few
Bent in quick turns each other to undo,
And mix the poison, they themselves must drink.
Mistrust thyself, vain Country! cease to cry
“Knowledge will save me from the threatened woe."
For, if than other rash ones more thou know,
Yet on presumptuous wing as far would fly
Above thy knowledge as they dared to go,
Thou wilt provoke a heavier penalty.