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V.

And in the visions of romantic youth,
What years of endless bliss are yet to flow!
But mortal pleasure, what art thou in truth!
The torrent's smoothness ere it dash below!

And must I change my song? and must I shew,
Sweet Wyoming! the day, when thou wert doom'd,
Guiltless, to mourn thy loveliest bow'rs laid low!

When where of yesterday a garden bloom'd,

Death overspread his pall, and black'ning ashes gloom'd.—

VI.

Sad was the year, by proud oppression driv'n,

When Transatlantic Liberty arose,

Not in the sunshine, and the smile of heav'n,

But wrapt in whirlwinds, and begirt with woes:

Amidst the strife of fratricidal foes,

Her birth star was the light of burning plains;

Her baptism is the weight of blood that flows

From kindred hearts-the blood of British veins

And famine tracks her steps, and pestilential pains.

VII.

Yet, ere the storm of death had rag'd remote,

Or siege unseen in heav'n reflects its beams,

Who now each dreadful circumstance shall note?

That fills pale Gertrude's thoughts, and nightly dreams :

Dismal to her the forge of battle gleams

Portentous light! and music's voice is dumb;

Save where the fife its shrill reveillè screams,

Or midnight streets re-echo to the drum,

That speaks of madʼning strife, and bloodstain'd fields to come.

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Alluding to the miseries that attended the American civil war.

VIII.

It was in truth a momentary pang;

Yet how comprising myriad shapes of woe!

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First when in Gertrude's ear the summons rang,

A husband to the battle doom'd to go!

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Nay meet not thou,' (she cries), thy kindred foe!

'But peaceful let us seek fair England's strand!'

Ah, Gertrude! thy beloved heart, I know,

Would feel, like mine, the stigmatizing brand,

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Could I forsake the cause of freedom's holy band!

IX.

But shame-but flight—a recreant's name to prove,

'To hide in exile ignominious fears;

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Say, ev'n if this I brook'd, the public love

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'My Gertrude sever from so dear a child?'

So, day by day, her boding heart he cheers;

-At last that heart to hope is half beguil❜d,—

And pale through tears suppress'd the mournful beauty smil❜d.—

X.

Night came,—and in their lighted bow'r, full late,

The joy of converse had endur'd,—when hark!

Abrupt and loud, a summons shook their gate;
And, heedless of the dog's obstrep'rous bark,
A form has rush'd amidst them from the dark,
And spread his arms,—and fell upon the floor:
Of aged strength his limbs retain'd the mark;
But desolate he look'd, and famish'd poor,

As ever shipwreck'd wretch lone left on desart shore.

XI.

Upris'n, each wond'ring brow is knit, and arch'd:

A spirit from the dead they deem him first:

To speak he tries; but quivering, pale, and parch'd

From lips, as by some pow'rless dream accurs'd,
Emotions unintelligible burst;

And long his filmed eye is red and dim;

At length the pity-proffer'd cup his thirst

Had half assuag'd, and nerv'd his shuddering limb,

When Albert's hand he grasp’d;—but Albert knew not him—

XII.

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And hast thou then forgot,' (he cried forlorn,

And ey'd the group with half indignant air),

Oh! hast thou, Christian chief, forgot the morn

When I with thee the cup of peace did share?

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