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POEMS OF PATRIOTISM AND FREEDOM.
BREATHES THERE THE MAN
In the clear heaven of her delightful eye,
found ?" Art thou a man ? - a patriot ? - look around ; 0, thou shalt find, howe'er thy footsteps roam, That land thy country, and that spot thy home!
BREATHES there the man with soul so dead Who never to himself hath said,
This is my own, my native land ! Whose heart hath ne'er within him burned, As home his footsteps he hath turned
From wandering on a foreign strand ! If such there breathe, go, mark him well; For him no minstrel raptures swell ; High though his titles, proud his name, Boundless his wealth as wish can claim, Despite those titles, power, and pelf, The wretch, concentred all in self, Living, shall forfeit fair renown, And, doubly dying, shall go down To the vile dust from whence he sprung, Unwept, unhonored, and unsung.
Man, through all ages of revolving time,
every varying clime, Deems his own land of every land the pride, Beloved by Heaven o'er all the world beside ; His home the spot of earth supremely blest, A dearer, sweeter spot than all the rest.
SIR WALTER SCOTT.
HOW SLEEP THE BRAVE
How sleep the brave, who sink to rest By all their country's wishes blessed ! When Spring, with dewy fingers cold, Returns to deck their hallowed mould, She there shall dress a sweeter sod Than Fancy's feet have ever trod.
THERE is a land, of every land the pride,
THE DEATH OF LEONIDAS. But down swept all his power, with chariot and
with charge ; It was the wild midnight, - a storm was on the Down poured the arrows' shower, till sank the
Spartan targe. The lightning gave its light, and the thunder Thus fought the Greek of old ! thus will he fight echoed by
again ! The torrent swept the glen, the ocean lashed the Shall not the selfsame mould bring forth the self
same men ? Then rose the Spartan men, to make their bed in