Thy grassy uplands' gentle swells Echo to the bleat of flocks; (Those grassy hills, those glittering dells Proudly ramparted with rocks) And OCEAN mid his uproar wild Speaks saftety to his ISLAND-CHILD! Has social Quiet loved thy shore; Nor ever proud Invader's rage Or sacked thy towers, or stained thy fields with gore. VIII. Abandoned of Heaven! mad Avarice thy guide, And joined the wild yelling of Famine and Blood! Shall hear DESTRUCTION, like a Vulture, scream! Of central fires through nether seas upthundering O Albion! thy predestined ruins rise, The fiend-hag on her perilous couch doth leap, Muttering distempered triumph in her charmed sleep. IX. Away, my soul, away! In vain, in vain the Birds of warning singAnd hark! I hear the famished brood of prey Flap their lank pennons on the groaning wind! Away, my soul, away! I unpartaking of the evil thing, With daily prayer and daily toil Have wailed my country with a loud Lament. Now I recentre my immortal mind In the deep sabbath of meek self-content; Cleansed from the vaporous passions that bedim God's Image, sister of the Seraphim. FRANCE. AN ODE. I. YE Clouds! that far above me float and pause, Ye Woods! that listen to the night-birds' singing, My moonlight way o'er flowering weeds I wound, By each rude shape and wild unconquerable sound! loud Waves! and O ye Forests high! ye And O ye Clouds that far above me soared! Thou rising Sun! thou blue rejoicing Sky! Yea, every thing that is and will be free! Bear witness for me, wheresoe'er ye be, With what deep worship I have still adored The spirit of divinest Liberty. II. When France in wrath her giant-limbs upreared, And with that oath, which smote air, earth and sea, Stamped her strong foot and said she would be free, Bear witness for me, how I hoped and feared! With what a joy my lofty gratulation Unawed I sang, amid a slavish band: And when to whelm the disenchanted nation, And flung a magic light o'er all her hills and groves; To all that braved the tyrant-quelling lance, And shame too long delayed and vain retreat! For ne'er, O Liberty! with partial aim I dimmed thy light or damped thy holy flame; III. "And what," I said, " though Blasphemy's loud scream "With that sweet music of deliverance strove ! "Though all the fierce and drunken passions wove "A dance more wild than e'er was maniac's dream! "Ye storms, that round the dawning east assem bled, "The Sun was rising, though he hid his light! And when, to sooth my soul, that hoped and trembled, Her arm made mockery of the warrior's tramp; Domestic treason, crushed beneath her fatal stamp, Writhed like a wounded dragon in his gore; Then I reproached my fears that would not flee; "And soon," I said, "shall Wisdom teach her lore "In the low huts of them that toil and groan! |