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The redcross squadrons madly rage *,
And mow through infancy and age;
Veiling from the eye of day,
Penance dreams her life away;
To walk, with taper dim, the winding aisle ;
Hence with the rack and reeking wheel,
While gleams of glory open round,
Hope to obscure that latent spark
Destined to shine when suns are dark?
Hark! Truth proclaims thy triumphs cease:
Benignly points to piety and peace. * This remarkable event happened at the siege and sack of Jerusalem, in the last year of the eleventh century. Hume, 1.
Flush'd with youth, her looks impart
Each fine feeling as it flows;
Pure as the mountain snows:
That blacken’d o'er thy baneful reign?
Shrinking from her glance in vain. Her touch unlocks the dayspring from above, And lo! it visits man with beams of light and love.
Ye clouds! that far above me float and pause,
Whose pathless march no mortal may control!
Ye Ocean-waves ! that, wheresoe'er ye roll, Yield homage only to eternal laws! Ye woods that listen to the night-bird's singing,
Midway the smooth and perilous steep reclined; Save when your own imperious branches swinging
Have made a solemn music of the wind !
How oft, pursuing fancies holy,
Inspired, beyond the guess of folly, By each rude shape and wild unconquerable sound!
0, ye loud waves, and O, ye forests high,
And 0, ye clouds that far above me soar'd!
Yea, every thing that is and will be free!
With what deep worship I have still adored The spirit of divinest Liberty..
When France in wrath her giant limbs uprear'd, And, with that oath which smote air, earth,
[free, Stamp'd her strong foot and said, she would be Bear witness for me, how I hoped and feard ! With what a joy my lofty gratulation
Unawed I sang, amid a slavish band:
Like fiends embattled by a wizard's wand,
Though dear her shores and circling ocean, Though many friendships, many youthful loves
Had swoln the patriot emotion, And ilung a magic lighto'er all her hills and groves ; Yet still my voice unalter'd sang defeat
To all that braved the tyrant-quelling lance, And shame too long delay'd, and vain retreat! For ne'er, O Liberty! with partial aim I dimm’d thy light, or damp'd thy holy flame;
But bless'd the pæans of deliver'd France, And hung my head, and wept at Britain's name!
. And what,' I said, though Blasphemy's loud
scream With that sweet music of deliverance strove? VOL. U.
Though all the fierce and drunken passions wove A dance more wild than ever maniac's dream? Ye storms, that round the dawning east as
sembled, The sun was rising, though ye hid his light! And when to soothe my soul, that hoped and trembled,
[bright; The dissonance ceased, and all seem'd calm and
When France, her front deep scarr'd and gory,
When insupportably advancing,
While, timid looks of fury glancing,
Then I reproach'd my fears that would not flee; * And soon,' I said, shall Wisdom teach her lore In the low huts of them that toil and groan! And, conquering by her happiness alone,
Shall France compel the nations to be free, Till Love and Joy look round, and call the earth
their own !
Forgive me, Freedom! 0, forgive those dreams!
I hear thy voice, I hear thy loud lament,
From bleak Helvetia's icy caverns sentI hear thy groans upon her blood-stain'd streams!
Heroes, that for your peaceful country perish'd; And ye that, fleeing, spot the mountain snows With bleeding wounds; forgive me, that I
cherish'd One thought that ever bless'd your cruel foes ! To scatter rage and traitorous guilt Where Peace her jealous home had built,
A patriot race to disinherit
And with inexpiable spirit [taineer!— To taint the bloodless freedom of the mounO France! that mockest Heaven, adulterous, blind,
And patriot only in pernicious toils ! Are these thy boasts, champion of humankind : To mix with kings in the low lust of sway,
Yell in the hunt, and share the murderous prey; To' insult the shrine of liberty with spoils
From freemen torn; to tempt and to betray!
The sensual and the dark rebel in vain,
Slaves by their own compulsion! In mad game
They burst their manacles, and wear the name Of Freedom graven on a heavier chain !
O Liberty! with profitless endeavour Have I pursued thee many a weary hour :
But thou nor swell'st the victor's strain, nor ever Didst breathe thy soul in forms of human power.
Alike from all, howe'er they praise thee (Nor prayer nor boastful name delays thee), Alike, from Priestcraft's harpy minions,
And factious Blasphemy's obscener slaves, Thou speedest on thy subtle pinions, [waves !
The guide of homeless winds and playmate of the And there I felt thee-on that seacliff's verge
Whose pinės,scarce traveld by the breeze above, Had made one murmur with the distant surge! Yes! while I stood and gazed, my temples bare, And shot my being through earth, sea, and air,
Possessing all things with intensest love, O Liberty, my spirit felt thee there !