And, as it onward rolling rose, So moved his heart upon our foes. There, where death's brief pang was quickest, Strew'd beneath the advancing banner (There with thunder-clouds to fan her, While the broken line enlarging There be sure was MURAT charging! IV. O'er glories gone the invaders march, But let Freedom rejoice, With her heart in her voice; But, her hand on her sword, Doubly shall she be adored; France hath twice too well been taught The "moral lesson" dearly bought— Her Safety sits not on a throne, With CAPET or NAPOLEON! But in equal rights and laws, Freedom, such as God hath given Unto all beneath his heaven, With their breath, and from their birth, Though Guilt would sweep it from the earth; With a fierce and lavish hand Scattering nations' wealth like sand; Pouring nations' blood like water, In imperial seas of slaughter! V. But the heart and the mind, And the voice of mankind, Shall arise in communion And who shall resist that proud union? The time is past when swords subdued— Even in this low world of care Freedom ne'er shall want an heir; Millions breathe but to inherit Her for ever bounding spirit— When once more her hosts assemble, Crimson tears will follow yet. VOL. IV. X [from the french.] "All wept, but particularly Savary, and a Polish officer who had been exalted from the ranks by Bonaparte. He clung to his master's knees; wrote a letter to Lord Keith, entreating permission to accompany him, even in the most menial capacity, which could not be admitted." 1. MUST thou go, my glorious Chief, Dear as both have been to me What are they to all I feel, With a soldier's faith for thee? 2. Idol of the soldier's soul! First in fight, but mightiest now: Many could a world control; Thee alone no doom can bow. By thy side for years I dared Death; and envied those who fell, When their dying shout was heard, Blessing him they served so well. (8) 3. Would that I were cold with those, When the doubts of coward foes Scarce dare trust a man with thee, Dreading each should set thee free. Oh! although in dungeons pent, All their chains were light to me, Gazing on thy soul unbent. 4. Would the sycophants of him Now so deaf to duty's prayer, Were his borrow'd glories dim, Could he purchase with that throne Hearts like those which still are thine? |