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Dropp'd from her nerveless grasp, the shatter'd spear, | Clos'd her bright eye, and curb'd her high career :) Hope, for a season, bade the world farewell
, - | And Freedom shriek’d, as Koscius'ko fell ! | The sun went down ; | nor ceas'd the carnage there', 1 Tumultuous murder shook the midnight air : 1 On Prague's proud arch, the fires of ru in glow, His blood-dy'd waters, murmuring far below : 1 The storm prevails', the rampart yields away', | Bursts the wild cry of horror, and dismay, ! | Hark'! | as the smouldering piles with thunder fall, A thousand shrieks for hopeless mercy, call! | Earth shook', / red meteors flash'd along the sky', I And conscious Nature shudder'd at the cry! | Departed spirits of the mighty dead! | Ye that at Marathon, and Leuc tra bled! Friends of the world'! | restore your swords to man', ] Fight in his sacred cause, and lead the van! | Yet for Sarmatia's tears of blood', atone', i And make her arm puissant as your own, I O! once again to Freedom's cause return', | Thou patriot Tell' - thou Bruce of Bannockburn! | |
BATTLE OF WATERLOO.
And all went merry as a mar'riage-bell
a Proud arch; not prow-darch'.
+ Soft eyes; not sof-ties'.
Did ye not hear it? — No; 'twas but the wind, 1
And near er, clearer, deadlier than before !
Within a window'd niche of that high hall,
And rous'd the vengeance, blood alone could quell: | He rush'd into the field', and foremost fighting, fell. I
Ah! then, and there, was hurrying to, and fro,
If ever more should meet those mutual eyes, |
And there was mounting in hot haste: the steed,
While throng’d the citizens with terror dumbi,
come! | they come !" |
1 And wild and high the “Cameron's gathering” rose! 2 The war-note of Lochiel', / which Albyn's hills, Have heard,,and heard too, have her Saxon foes :How in the noon of night that pibroch thrills', | Savage, and shrill.! But with the breath which fills Their mountain-pipe, so fill the mountaineers, With the fierce native daring which instils
The stirring memory of a thousand years. ; || And Ev'an's, Don'ald's fame, / rings in each clansman's
ears, ! | And Ardennes waves above them her green leaves', / Dewy with nature's tear-drops, | as they pass, | Grieving, if aught inanimate e'er grieves, Over the unreturning brave,- | alas! Ere evening, to be trodden like the grass, Which now beneath' them, but above shall grow, / In its next verdure, / when this fiery mass,
Of living valour, | rolling on the foe, 1
Last noon beheld them full of lusty life'; }
the marshalling in arms', - | the day, ,
Which her own clay shall cover, | heap'd and pent', ! Rider, and horse', | friendı, | foe', | in one red
burial blent ! |
MARCO BOZZARIS. A
(HALLECK.) At midnight, in his guarded tent,
The Turk , was dreaming of the hour, I When Greece, I her knee in suppliance bent, i
Should tremble at his power: 1 a Marco Bozzaris, the Epaminondas of modern Greece. He fell in a night attack upon the Turkish camp at Laspi, the site of the
In dreams, through camp, and court, he bore, I The trophies of a con queror; |
In dreams his song of triumph heard ;* |
As Eden's gardeno-bird. į
"Bozza'ris rang’d his Suliote band
Heroes in heart, and hand.
On old Platæ'a's day —|
As quick, as far as they. |
That bright dream was his last, ; 1 He woke, to hear his sentries shriek
ff« To arms !|they come ! the Greek! the F&Greek'!"| Ile woke, to die midst flame, and smoke', And shout, and groan, and sa bre-stroke,
And death-shots falling thick, and fast, |
Bozzaris cheer his band : 1
God', and your native land' ! | ancient Platæa, August 20, 1823, and expired in the moment of victory. His last words were .“ To die for liberty is a pleasure, and not a pain.”
Triumph heard ; not tri-um'furd. 6 Môn nảrks. c Går'dn. d Pass'd on; not pass-ton'.
They fought, like brave men - | long, and well";
They pild' that ground with Moslem slain. ; | They con quer'd — but Bozzaris fell,
Bleeding at every vein. I
And the red field was won'; |
Like flowers at set of sun. I
Come to the mother's, / when she feels For the first time, her first-born's breath
Come, when the blessed seals That close the pestilence, are broke, And crowded cities, wail its stroke - 1 Come in consuinp'tion's ghastly form, | The earthquake shock', , the ocean-storm | ?Come when the heart beats high, and warm, |
With ban quet-song, and dance', and wine - 1 And thou art ter rible | the tear', ! The groani, , the knell', | the pall', | the bier ; | And all we know', or dream', , or fear'
Of agony, | are thine. I 4 But to the hero, | 3when his sword, I
Has won the battle for the free, i "Thy voice sounds like a proph'et's word; 2 And in its hollow tones, are heard , 1
* The thanks of mill'ions yet to be Come, when his task of fame' is wrought - 1 Come with her lau'rel-leaf, blood-bought - 1
Come in her crown'ing hour — and then , 2 Thy sunken eye's unearthly light | To him is welcome as the sight, I
Ofsky, and stars to prison’d men, : 1
* Kům'rådź , saw; not cum'rades-saw. b Brl'dål; not bri'dle.