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Though ruth and fear thy woundless soul defy,
And fatal genius fire thy martial eye ;
Yet trust not here o'er yielding realms to roam,
Or cheaply bear a bloodless laurel home.
“No! by His viewless arm whose righteous
Defends the orphan's tear,
Who, Lord of nature, o'er this changeful ball
Decrees the rise of empires, and the fall;
Wondrous in all his ways, unseen, unknown,
Who treads the wine-press of the world alone;
And rob’d in darkness, and surrounding fears,
Speeds on their destin'd road the march of years!
No!-shall yon eagle, from the snare set free,
Stoop to thy wrist, or cower his wing for thee?
And shall it tame despair, thy strong control,
Or quench a nation's still reviving soul ?-
Go, bid the force of countless bands conspire
| To curb the wandering wind, or grasp the fire!
Cast thy vain fetters on the troublous sea !-
But Spain, the brave, the virtuous, shall be free."
Wrth heat o'erlabour'd and the length of way,
On Ethan's beach the bands of Israel lay.
'Twas silence all, the sparkling sands along,
Save where the locust trill'd her feeble song,
Or blended soft in drowsy cadence fell
The wave's low whisper or the camel's bell.-
'Twas silence all !—the flocks for shelter fly
Where, waving light, the acacia shadows lie;
Or where, from far, the flatt'ring vapours make
The noon-tide semblance of a misty lake :
While the mute swain, in careless safety spread,
With arins enfolded, and dejected head,
Dreams o'er his wondrous call, his lineage high,
And, late reveal'd, his children's destiny.
For, not in vain, in thraldom's darkest hour,
Had sped from Amram's sons the word of pow'r;
Nor fail'd the dreadful wand, whose god-like sway
Could lure the locust from her airy way;
With reptile war assail their proud abodes,
And mar the giant pomp of Egypt's gods.
Oh helpless gods! who nought avail'd to shield
From fiery rain your Zoan's favour'd field !
Oh helpless gods! who saw the curdled blood
And fourfold-night the wondering earth enchain,
While Memnon's orient harp was heard in vain !-
Such musings held the tribes, till now the west
With milder influence on their temples prest ;
And that portentous cloud which, all the day,
Hung its dark curtain o'er their weary way,
(A cloud by day, a friendly flame by night,)
Rolld back its misty veil, and kindled into light!--
Soft fell the eve :-But, ere the day was done,
Tall, waving banners streak'd the level sun ;
And wide and dark along th' horizon red,
In sandy surge the rising desert spread.--
“ Mark, Israel, mark !"--On that strange sight
intent, In breathless terror, every eye was bent ; And busy faction's undistinguished hum And female shrieks arose, “ They come, they
They come, they come! in scintillating show
O’er the dark mass the brazen lances glow;
And sandy clouds in countlesss hapes combine,
As deepens or extends the long tumultuous line ;--
And fancy's keener glance ev'n now may trace
The threatening aspects of each mingl'd race;
For many a coal-black tribe and cany spear,
The hireling guards of Misraim's throne, were
From distant Cush they troop’d, a warrior train,
Siwah's green isle and Sennaar's marly plain :
On either wing their fiery coursers check
The parch'd and sinewy sons of Amalek :
While close behind, inur’d to feast on blood,
Deck'd in Behemoth's spoils, the tall Shangalla
strode. 'Mid blazing helms and bucklers rough with gold Saw ye how swift the scythed chariot rollid ?
Lo, these are they whom, lords of Afric's
fates, Old Thebes had pour'd through all her hundred
gates, Mother of armies !-How the emeralds glow'd, Where, flush'd with power and vengeance, Pha
raoh rode! And stol'd in white, those brazen wheels before, Osiris' ark his swarthy wizards bore ; And still responsive to the trumpet's cry The priestly sistrum murmur'd-Victory ?-Why swell these shouts that rend the desert's
gloom? Whom come ye forth to combat ?--warriors,
whom?-These flocks and herds—this faint and weary
train Red from the scourge and recent from the chain? God of the poor, the poor and friendless save! Giver and Lord of freedom, help the slave! North, south, and west the sandy whirlwinds fly, The circling horns of Egypt's chivalry. On earth's last margin throng the weeping train: Their cloudy guide moves on ;--- And must we