« PredošláPokračovať »
Streams of rapture roll along,
Silver notes ascend the skies:
Oh, catch it ere it dies !
His madding spirit fills her frame,
Breathing a prophetic flame.
Mona, thy Druid rites awake the dead!
Rites thy brown oaks would never dare
Even whisper to the idle air ; Rites that have chain'd old Ocean on his bed.
Shiver'd by thy piercing glance,
Pointless falls the hero's lance. Thy magic bids the imperial eagle fly And blasts the laureate wreath of victory. Hark, the bard's soul inspires the vocal string!
At every pause dread Silence hovers o'er : While murky Night sails round on raven wing, Deepening the tempest's howl, the torrent's III. 2. Lo,steel-clad War his gorgeous standard rears!
roar; Chased by the morn from Snowdon's awful brow, Where late she sat and scowl'd on the black wave
• See Tacitus, l. xiv. c. 29.
The redcross squadrons madly rage*,
And mow through infancy and age;
Veiling from the eye of day,
Penance dreams her life away; In cloister'd solitude she sits and sighs, While from each shrine still small responses rise. Hear with what heartfelt beat the midnight bell Flings its slow summons through the hollow
pile! The weak wan votarist leaves her twilight cell,
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 und
O, ye loud waves, and 0, ye forests high,
And 0, ye clouds that far above me soar'd! Thou rising sun, thou blue rejoicing sky!
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 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,
Had swoln the patriot emotion,
To all that braved the tyrant-quelling lance,
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. II.
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, Conceal'd with clustering wreaths of glory;
When insupportably advancing, Her arm made mockery of the warrior's ramp,
While, timid looks of fury glancing, Domestic treason, crush'd beneath her fatal stamp, Writhed like a wounded dragon in his gore;
Then I reproach'd my fears that would not fee; • 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
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 !
sca rage and traitorous guilt Where Peace her jealous home had built,