« AnteriorContinuar »
STANZAS TO THE SPANISH PATRIOTS.
What though your cause be baffled-freemen cast
In dungeons-dragg’d to death, or forced to flee ;
Hope is not wither'd in affliction's blast
The patriot's blood's the seed of Freedom's tree;
And short your orgies of revenge shall be,
Cowld Demons of the Inquisitorial cell !
Earth shudders at your victory,—for ye
Are worse than common fiends from Heaven that fell,
The baser, ranker sprung, Autochthones of hell !
Go to your bloody rites again-bring back
The hall of horrors and the assessor's pen,
Recording answers shriek'd upon the rack ;
Smile o'er the gaspings of spine-broken men ;-
Preach, perpetrate damnation in your den ;-
Then let your altars, ye blasphemers ! peal
With thanks to Heaven, that let you loose again,
To practise deeds with torturing fire and steel
No eye may search — no tongue may challenge or
Yet laugh not in your carnival of crime
Too proudly, ye oppressors !—Spain was free,
Her soil has felt the foot-prints, and her clime ;
Been winnow'd by the wings of Liberty;
And these even parting scatter as they filee
Thoughts-influences, to live in hearts unborn,
Opinions that shall wrench the prison-key.
From Persecution-shew her mask off-torn,
And tramp her bloated head beneath the foot of Scorn.
Glory to them that die in this great cause !
Kings, Bigots, can inflict no brand of shame,
Or shape of death, to shroud them from applause:-
No!-manglers of the martyr's earthly frame !
Your hangmen fingers cannot touch his fame.
Still in your prostrate land there shall be some
Proud hearts, the shrines of Freedom's vestal fame.
Long trains of ill may pass unheeded, dumb,
But vengeance is behind, and justice is to come.
INSCRIBED ON THE MONUMENT LATELY FINISHED
WHICH HAS BEEN ERECTED BY THE WIDOW OF
ADMIRAL SIR G. CAMPBELL, K. C. B. TO
THE MEMORY OF HER HUSBAND.
To him, whose loyal, brave, and gentle heart,
Fulfill'd the hero's and the patriot's part,-
Whose charity, like that which Paul enjoin'd,
Was warm, beneficent, and unconfined,
This stone is rear'd: to public duty true,
The seaman's friend, the father of his crew-
Mild in reproof, sagacious in command,
He spread fraternal zeal throughout his band,
And led each arm to act, each heart to feel,
What British valour owes to Britain's weal.
LINES TO THE MEMORY OF SIR G. CAMPBELL. 83
These were his public virtues :--but to trace
His private life's fair purity and grace,
To paint the traits that drew affection strong
From friends, an ample and an ardent throng,
And, more, to speak his memory's grateful claim
On her who mourns him most, and bears his name—
O'ercomes the trembling hand of widow'd grief,
O’ercomes the heart, unconscious of relief,
Save in religion's high and holy trust,
Whilst placing their memorial o'er his dust.