"Where rests the sword?-where sleep the brave? Awake! Cecropia's ally save
From the fury of the blast;
Burst the storm on Phocis' walls;
Rise! or Greece forever falls.
Up! or freedom breathes her last!"
4 () The jarring States, obsequious now,
View the Patriot's hand on high;
Thunder gathering on his brow,
Lightning flashing from his eye!
5 Borne by the tide of words along,
One voice, one mind, inspire the throng:
(0°)
"To arms! to arms! to arms!" they cry,
Grasp the shield and draw the sword,
Lead us to Philippi's lord,
Let us conquer him—or die!"
6 (-) Ah Eloquence! thou wast undone; Wast from thy native country driven, When Tyranny eclips'd the sun,
And blotted out the stars of heaven.
7 When Liberty from Greece withdrew,
And o'er the Adriatic flew,
To where the Tiber pours his urn,
She struck the rude Tarpeian rock;
Sparks were kindled by the shock-
Again thy fires began to burn!
8 Now, shining forth, thou mad'st compliant
The Conscript Fathers to thy charms;
Rous'd the world-bestriding giant,
Sinking fast in Slavery's arms!
9 I see thee stand by Freedom's fane,
Pouring the persuasive strain,
Giving vast conceptions birth:
Hark! I hear thy thunder's sound,
Shake the Forum round and round-
Shake the pillars of the earth!
10 First-born of Liberty divine!
Put on Religion's bright array;
Speak! and the starless grave shall shine
The portal of eternal day!
11 Rise, kindling with the orient beam;
Let Calvary's hill inspire the theme!
Unfold the garments roll'd in blood!
O touch the soul, touch all her chords,
With all the omnipotence of words,
And point the way to heaven-to God.
Hohenlinden....Description of a Battle with Firearms.
1 (6) On Linden, when the sun was low,
All bloodless lay the untrodden snow,
And dark as winter was the flow
Of Iser rolling rapidly.
2 But Linden saw anòther sight,
(<) When the drum beat at dead of night,
Commanding fires of death to light
The darkness of her scenery.
3 By torch and trumpet fast arrayed,
Each warrior drew his battle blade,
And furious every charger neighed,
To join the dreadful revelry.
4 (<) Then shook the hills with thunder riven,
Then rushed the stèeds to battle driven,
And louder than the bolts of Heaven,
Far flashed the red artillery.
5 And redder yèt those fires shall glow,
On Linden's hills of blood-stained snow;
And darker yet shall be the flow
Of Iser rolling rapidly.
6 'Tis morn, but scarce yon lurid sun
Can pierce the war clouds, rolling dun,
While furious Frank and fiery Hun
Shout in their sulph'rous canopy.
7 The combat deepens:-(°°) On, ye brave,
Who rush to glory, or the grave!
Wave, Munich, all thy banners wave!
And charge with all thy chivalry!
-) Ah! few shall part where many meet! The snow shall be their winding sheet, And every turf beneath their feet
Shall be a soldier's sepulchre.
EXERCISE 22.
Battle of Waterloo.
1 There was a sound of revelry by night,
And Belgium's capital had gathered then
Her beauty and her chivalry, and bright
The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men:
A thousand hearts beat happily; and when
Music arose with its voluptuous swell,
Soft eyes looked love to eyes which spake again,
And all went merry as a marriage-bell;
(。) But hush! hark!
ing knell!
a deep sound strikes like a ris
2 Did ye not hear it?—No; 'twas but the wind,
Or the car rattling o'er the stony street:
(°) On with the dance! let joy be unconfined;
No sleep till morn, when youth and pleasure meet
To chase the glowing hours with flying feet-
(6) But, hark!-That heavy sound breaks in once more, As if the clouds its echo would repeat.
And nearer, clearer, deadlier than before!
(°°) Àrm! àrm! it is—it is the cannon's opening roar!
3 (-) Ah! then and there was hurrying to and fro,
And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress,
And cheeks all pale, which but an hour ago
Blushed at the praise of their own loveliness:
And there were sudden partings, such as press
The life from out young hearts, and choking sighs
Which ne'er might be repeated-who could guess
If ever more should meet, those mutual eyes,
Since upon night so sweet, such awful morn could rise?
4 =) And there was mounting, in hot haste; the steed,
The mustering squadron, and the clattering car,
Went pouring forward with impetuous speed,
And swiftly forming in the ranks of war,
And the deep thunder, peal on peal afar;
And near, the beat of the alarming drum
Roused up the soldier ere the morning star;
While thronged the citizens with terror dumb
Or whispering with white lips-"The foe! They come!
They come!"
5 (-) 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 the fiery mass
Of living valour, rolling on the foe,
And burning with high hope, shall moulder cold and low
6 Last noon beheld them full of lusty life,
Last eve in beauty's circle proudly gay,
The midnight brought the signal-sound of strife,
The morn, the marshalling in arms,—the day,
Battle's magnificently-stern array!
The thunder-clouds close o'er it, which when rent,
The earth is covered thick with other clay,
Which her own clay shall cover, heaped and pent,
Rider and horse,-friend, foe, in one red burial blent!
EXERCISE 23.
Negro's Complaint.
1 (-) Forced from home and all its pleasures,
Afric's coast I left forlorn;
To increase a stranger's treasures,
O'er the raging billows borne.
Men from England bought and sold me,
Paid my price in paltry gold;
But though slave they have enroll'd me,
Minds are never to be sold.
2 Still in thought as free as ever,
What are England's rights, I ask,
Me from my delights to sever,
Me to torture, me to task?
Fleecy locks, and black complexion,
Cannot forfeit Nature's claim;
Skins may differ, but affection
Dwells in white and black the same.
3 Why did all-creating nature
Make the plant for which we toil? Sighs must fan it, tears must water, Sweat of ours must dress the soil. Think, ye masters iron-hearted, Lolling at your jovial boards;
Think how many backs have smarted,
For the sweets your cane affords.
4() Is there, as ye sometimes tell us,
Is there one who reigns on high?
Has he bid you buy and sell us,
Speaking from his throne the sky?
Ask him, if your knotted scourges,
Matches, blood-extorting screws,
Are the means that duty urges
Agents of his will to use?
5 (。) Hark!—he answers;-wild tornadoes,
Strewing yonder sea with wrecks;
Wasting towns, plantations, meadows,
Are the voice with which he speaks.
He, foreseeing what vexations
Afric's sons should undergo,
Fixed their tyrants' habitations
Where his WHIRLWINDS answer-NO.
6 By our blood in Afric wasted,
Ere our necks received the chain;
By the miseries that we tasted,
Crossing in your barks the main;
By our sufferings since ye brought us
To the man-degrading mart;
All, sustained by patience, taught us
Only by a broken heart;
7 * Deem our nation brutes ... no longer,
ye shall find
* Firm voice.
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