"His sword the brave man draws
And asks no omen but his country's cause."-Pops.
Too long have Tyranny and Power combined,
To sway, with iron sceptre, o'er mankind;
Long has Oppression worn th' imperial robe,
And Rapine's sword has wasted half the globe!
O'er Europe's cultured realms, and climes afar,
Triumphant Gaul has pour'd the tide of war:
To her fair Austria veil'd the standard bright;
Ausonia's lovely plains have own'd her might;
While Prussia's eagle, never taught to yield,
Forsook her tow'ring height on Jena's field!
Oh! gallant Frederic! could thy parted shade
Have seen thy country vanquish'd and betray'd;
How had thy soul indignant mourn'd her shame,
Her sullied trophies, and her tarnish'd fame!
When Valor wept lamented BRUNSWICK'S doom,
And nursed with tears the laurels on his tomb ;
When Prussia, drooping o'er her hero's grave,
Invoked his spirit to descend and save;
Then set her glories-then expir'd her sun,
And fraud achieved e'en more than conquest won!
O'er peaceful realms, that smiled with plenty gay, Has desolation spread her ample sway;
Thy blast, oh Ruin! on tremendous wings,
Has proudly swept o'er empires, nations, kings!
Thus the wild hurricane's impetuous force,
With dark destruction marks its whelming course,
Despoils the woodland's pomp, the blooming plain,
Death on its pinion, vengeance in its train!
Rise, Freedom, rise! and, breaking from thy trance, Wave the dread banner, seize the glitt'ring lance! With arm of might assert thy sacred cause, And call thy champions to defend thy laws!
* Written at the age of fourteen.
How long shall tyrant power her throne maintain?
How long shall despots and usurpers reign?
Is honor's lofty soul for ever fled?
Is virtue lost? is martial ardor dead?
Is there no heart where worth and valor dwell,
No patriot WALLACE, no undaunted TELL?
Yes, Freedom, yes! thy sons, a noble band,
Around thy banner, firm, exulting stand
Once more, 'tis thine, invincible, to wield
The beamy spear and adamantine shield!
Again thy cheek with proud resentment glows,
Again thy lion-glace appals thy foes;
Thy kindling eye-beam darts unconquer'd fires,
Thy look sublime the warrior's heart inspires;
And, while to guard thy standard and thy right
Castilians rush, intrepid, to the fight,
Lo! Britain's gen'rous host their aid supply,
Resolved for thee to triumph or to die!
And Glory smiles to see Iberia's name
Enroll'd with Albion's in the book of fame!
Illustrious names! still, still united beam,
Be still the hero's boast, the poet's theme:
So, when two radiant gems together shine,
And in one wreath their lucid light combine
Each, as it sparkles with transcendant rays,
Adds to the lustre of its kindred blaze.
Descend, oh Genius! from thy orb descend
Thy glowing thought, thy kindling spirit lend
As Memnon's harp (so ancient fables say)
With sweet vibration meets the morning ray,
So let the chords thy heavenly presence own,
And swell a louder note, a nobler tone;
Call from the sun, her burning throne on hign,
The seraph Ecstasy, with lightning eye;
Steal from the source of day empyreal fire,
And breath the soul of rapture o'er the lyre!
Hail, Albion! hail, thou land of freedom's birth Pride of the main, and Phoenix of the earth! Thou second Rome, where mercy, justice, dwell, Whose sons in wisdom as in arms excel!
Thine are the dauntless bands, like Spartans brave
Bold in the field, triumphant on the wave;
In classic elegance, and arts divine,
To rival Athens' fairest palm is thine;
For taste and fancy from Hymettus, fly,
And richer bloom beneath thy varying sky,
Where science mounts in radiant car sublime,
To other worlds beyond the sphere of time!
Hail, Albion, hail! to thee has fate denied
Peruvian mines and rich Hindostan's pride;
The gems that Ormuz and Golconda boast,
And all the wealth of Montezuma's coast:
For thee no Parian marbles brightly shine;
No glowing suns mature the blushing vine;
No light Arabian gales their wings expand,
To waft Sabæan incense o'er the land;
No graceful cedars crown thy lofty hills,
No trickling myrrh for thee its balm distils;
Not from thy trees the lucid amber flows,
And far from thee the scented cassia blows;
Yet fearless Commerce, pillar of thy throne,
Makes all the wealth of foreign climes thy own;
From Lapland's shore to Afric's ferved reign,
She bids thy ensigns float above the main ;
Unfurls her streamers to the fav'ring gale,
And shows to other worlds her daring sail :
Then wafts their gold, their varied stores to thee,
Queen of the trident! empress of the sea!
For this thy noble sons have spread alarms,
And bade the zones resound with Britain's arms!
Calpé's proud rock, and Syra's palmy shore,
Have heard and trembled at their battle's roar;
The sacred waves of fertilizing Nile
Have seen the triumphs of the conquering isle ;
For this, for this, the Samiel-blast of war
Has roll'd o'er Vincent's cape and Trafalgar !
Victorious RODNEY spread thy thunder's sound,
And NELSON fell, with fame immortal crown'd';
Blest if their perils and their blood could gain,
To grace thy hand-the sceptre of the main !
The milder emblems of the virtues calm,
The poet's verdant bay, the sage's palm;
These in thy laurel's blooming foliage twine,
And round thy brows a deathless wreath combine :
Not Mincio's banks, nor Meles' classic tide,
Are hallow'd more than Avon's haunted side;
Nor is thy Thames a less inspiring theme,
Than pure Ilissus, or than Tiber's stream.
Bright in the annals of th' impartial page,
Britannia's heroes live from age to age!
From ancient days, when dwelt her savage race,
Her painted natives, formost in the chase,
Free from all cares for luxury or gain,
Lords of the wood and monarchs of the plain;
To these Augustan days, when social arts,
Refine and meliorate her manly hearts;
From doubtful Arthur, hero of romance,
King of the circled board, the spear, the lance;
To those whose recent trophies grace her shield,
The gallant victors of Vimiera's field;
Still have her warriors borne th' unfading crown,
And made the British flag the ensign of renown.
Spirit of ALFRED! patriot soul sublime!
Thou morning-star of error's darkest time!
Prince of the lion-heart! whose arm in fight,
On Syria's plains repell'd Saladin's might!
EDWARD! for bright heroic deeds revered,
By Cressy's fame to Britain still endear'd!
Triumphant HENRY! thou, whose valor proud,
The lofty plume of crested Gallia bow'd!
Look down, look down, exalted shades! and view
Your Albion still to freedom's banner true!
Behold the land, ennobled by your fame,
Supreme in glory, and of spotless name;
And, as the pyramid indignant rears
Its awful head, and mocks the waste of years;
See her secure in pride of virtue. tower,
While prostrate nations kiss the rod of power!
Lo! where her pennons, waving high, aspire,
Bold Victory hovers near," with eyes of fire!
While Lusitania hails, with just applause,
The brave defenders of her injured cause;
Bids the full song, the note of triumph rise,
And swells th' exulting pæan to the skies!
And they, who late with anguish, hard to tell,
Breathed to their cherish'd realms a sad farewell!
Who, as the vessel bore them o'er the tide,
Still fondly linger'd on its deck, and sigh'd;
Gazed on the shore, till tears obscured their sight,
And the blue distance melted into light;
The Royal exiles, forced by Gallia's hate
To fly for refuge in a foreign state:
They, soon returning o'er the western main,
Ere long may view their clime beloved again;
And, as the blazing pillar led the host
Of faithful Israel, o'er the desert coast ;
So may Britannia guide the noble band,
O'er the the wild ocean, to their native land.
Oh, glorious isle !-oh sov'reign of the waves!
Thine are the sons who "never will be slaves!"
See them once more, with ardent hearts advance,
And rend the laurels of insulting France;
To brave Castile their potent aid supply,
And wave, O Freedom! wave thy sword on high!
Is there no bard of heavenly power possess'd,
To thrill, to rouse, to aniinate the breast?
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