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Then as my gaze their waving eagles met, “ It may not be. Destruction's gory wing
And through the night each sparkling bayonet,

Soars o'er the banners of the younger king, Still memory told how Austria's evil hour Too rashly brave, who seeks with single sway Had felt on Praga’s field a Frederic's power,

To stem the lava on its destined way. And Gallia's vaunting train,(4) and Mosco's Poor, glittering warriors, only wont to know horde,

The bloodless pageant of a martial show; Had fleshed the maiden steel of Brunswic's sword. Nurselings of peace; for fiercer fights prepare, Oh! yet, I deemed, that Fate, by justice led, And dread the step-dame sway of unaccustomed Might wreathe once more the veteran's silver head; war! That Europe's ancient pride would yet disdain They fight, they bleed!-Oh! had that blood been The cumbrous sceptre of a single reign;

shed That conscious right would tenfold strength afford, When Charles and Valour Austria's armies led; And Heaven assist the patriot's holy sword,

Had these stood forth the righteous cause to shield, And look in mercy through the auspicious sky, When victory wavered on Moravia's field; To bless the saviour host of Germany.

Then France had mourned her conquests made in And are they dreams, these bodings, such as vain, shed

Her backward beaten ranks, and countless slain; Their lonely comfort o'er the hermit's bed? Then had the strength of Europe's freedom stood, And are they dreams? or can the Eternal Mind And still the Rhine had rolled a German flood ! Care for a sparrow, yet neglect mankind ?

“Oh! nursed in many a wile, and practised long,
Why, if the dubious battle own his power, To spoil the poor, and cringe before the strong;
And the red sabre, where he bids, devour, To swell the victor's state, and hovering near,
Why then can one the curse of worlds deride, Like some base vulture in the battle's rear,
And millions weep a tyrant's single pride ? To watch the carnage of the field, and share
Thus sadly musing, far my footsteps strayed,

Each loathsome alms the prouder eagles spare:
Rapt in the visions of the Aonian maid. A curse is on thee Brandenburgh! the sound
It was not she, whose lonely voice I hear Of Poland's wailings drags thee to the ground;
Fall in soft whispers on my love-lorn ear; And, drunk with guilt, thy harlot lips shall know
My daily guest, who wont my steps to guide The bitter dregs of Austria's cup of wo.
Through the green walks of scented even-tide, Enough of vengeance! O'er the ensanguined
Or stretched with me in noonday ease along,

plain
To list the reaper's chaunt, or throstle's song: I gaze and seek their numerous host in vain;
But she of loftier port; whose grave control Gone like the locust band when whirlwinds bear
Rules the fierce workings of the patriot's soul; Their flimsy regions through the waste of air.
She, whose high presence, o'er the midnight oil, Enough of vengeance!-By the glorious dead,
With fame's bright promise cheers the student's Who bravely fell where youthful Lewis led;(5)

By Blucher’s sword in fiercest danger tried,
That same was she, whose ancient lore refined And the true heart that burst when Brunswic died;
The sober hardihood of Sydney's mind. By her whose charms the coldest zeal might
Borne on her wing, no more 1 seemed to rove warm,(6)
By Dresden's glittering spires, and linden grove; The manliest firmness in the fairest form-
No more the giant Elbe, all silver bright, Save, Europe, save the remnant !-Yet remains
Spread his broad bosom to the fair moonlight, One glorious path to free the world from chains.
While the still margent of his ample flood Why, when your northern band in Eylau's wood
Bore the dark image of the Saxon wood- Retreating struck, and tracked their course with
(Woods happy once, that heard the carols'free

blood,
Of rustic love, and cheerful industry;

While one firm rock the floods of ruin stayed,
Now dull and joyless lie their alleys green, Why, generous Austria, were tlıy wheels delayed?
And silence marks the track where France has And Albign!”—Darker sorrow veiled his brow-
been.)

“Friend of the friendless—Albion! where art thou?
Far other scenes than these my fancy viewed: Child of the Sea, whose wing-like sails are spread,
Rocks robed in ice, a mountain solitude; The covering cherub of the ocean’s bed!(7)
Where on Helvetian hills, in godlike state, The storm and tempest render peace to thee,
Alone and awful, Europe's Angel sate: And the wild-roaring waves a stern security.
Silent and stern he sate; then, bending low, But hope not thou in Heaven's own strength to ride,
Listened the ascending plaints of human wo. Freedom's loved ark, o'er broad' oppression's tide;
And waving as in grief his towery head, If virtue leave thee, if thy careless eye
" Not yet, not yet the day of rest,” he said; Glance in contempt on Europe's agony.

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where;

Alas! where now the bands who wont to pour To rouse the slumbering sparks of faint desire Their strong deliverance on th' Egyptian shore ? With the base tinkling of the Teian lyre; Wing, wing your course, a prostrate world to save, While youth's enervate glance and gloating age Triumphant squadrons of Trafalgar’s wave. Hang o'er the mazy waltz, or pageant stage;

“And thou, blest star of Europe's darkest hour, Each wayward wish of sickly taste to please, Whose words were wisdom, and whose counsels The nightly revel and the noontide ease power,

These, Europe, are thy toils, thy trophies these ! Whom earth applauded through her peopled shores! So, when wide-wasting hail, or whelming rain, (Alas! whom earth too early lost deplores ;-) Have strewed the bearded hope of golden grain, Young without follies, without rashness bold, From the wet furrow, struggling to the skies, And greatly poor amidst a nation's gold ! The tall, rank weeds in barren splendour rise; In every veering gale of faction true,

And strong, and towering o'er the mildewed ear, Untarnished Chatham's genuine child, adieu ! Uncomely flowers and baneful herbs appear; Unlike our common suns, whose gradual ray The swain's rich toils to useless poppies yield, Expands from twilight to intenser day, And Famine stalks along the purple field. Thy blaze broke forth at once in full meridian sway, ""And thou, the poet's theme, the patriot's O, proved in danger! not the fiercest flame

prayer! Of Discord's rage thy constant soul could tame; Where, France, thy hopes, thy gilded promise Not when, far-striding o'er thy palsied land, Gigantic Treason took his bolder stand ; When o'er Montpelier's vines, and Jura's snows, Not when wild Zeal, by murderous Faction led, All goodly bright, young Freedom's planet rose ? On Wicklow's hills, her grass-green banner spread; What boots it now, (to our destruction brave,) Or those stern conquerors of the restless wave How strong thine arm in war? a valiant slave Defied the native soil they wont to save.- What boots it now that wide thine eagles sail, Undaunted patriot! in that dreadful hour, Fanned by the flattering breath of conquest's gale? When pride and genius own a sterner power; What, that, high-piled within yon ample dome, When the dimmed eyeball, and the struggling The blood-bought treasures rest of Greece and breath,

Rome? And pain, and terror, mark advancing death;- Scourge of the highest, bolt in vengeance hurled Still in that breast thy country held her throne, By Heaven's dread justice on a shrinking world! Thy toil, thy fear, thy prayer were hers alone, Go, vanquished victor, bend thy proud helm down Thy last faint effort hers, and hers thy parting Before thy sullen tyrant's steely crown. groan.

For him in Afric's sands, and Poland's snows, “Yes, from those lips while fainting nations drew Reared by thy toil the shadowy laurel grows; Hope ever strong, and courage ever new ;- And rank in German fields the harvest springs Yet, yet, I deemed, by that supporting hand Of pageant councils and obsequious kings. Propped in her fall might Freedom's ruin stand; Such purple slaves, of glittering fetters vain, And purged by fire, and stronger from the storm, Linked the wide circuit of the Latian chain; Degraded Justice rear her reverend form. And slaves like these shall every tyrant find, Now, hope, adieu !-adieu the generous care. To gild oppression, and debase mankind. To shield the weak, and tame the proud in war! “Oh! live there yet whose hardy souls and high The golden chain of realms, when equal awe Peace bought with shame, and tranquil bonds defy? Poised the strong balance of impartial law; Who, driven from every shore, and lords in vain When rival states as federate sisters shone, Of the wide prison of the lonely main, Alike, yet various, and though many, one; Cling to their country's rights with freeborn zeal, And, bright and numerous as the spangled sky, More strong from every stroke, and patient of the Beamed each fair star of Europe's galaxy

steel? All, all are gone, and after-time shall trace Guiltless of chains, to them has Heaven consigned One boundless rule, one undistinguished race; Th' entrusted cause of Europe and mankind! Twilight of worth, where nought remains to move Or hope we yet in Sweden's martial snows The patriot's ardour, or the subject's love. That Freedom's weary foot may find repose ?

“Behold, c'en now, while every manly lore No;—from yon hermit shade, yon cypress dell, And ev'ry muse forsakes my yielding shore; Where faintly peals the distant matin-bell; Faint, vapid fruits of slavery's sickly clime, Where bigot kings and tyrant priests had shed Each tinsel art succeeds, and harlot rhyme ! Their sleepy venom o'er his dreadful head; To gild the vase, to bid the purple spread He wakes, th' avenger-hark! the hills around, In sightly foldings o'er the Grecian bed, Untamed Austria bids her clarion sound; Their mimicguard where sculptured gryphons keep, And many an ancient rock, and fleecy plain, And Memphian idols watch o'er beauty's sleep; And many a valiant heart returns the strain:

war.

Heard by that shore, where Calpe's armed steep And weeping France her captive king(17) de-
Flings its long shadow o'er th' Herculean deep, plored,
And Lucian glades, whose hoary poplars wave And cursed the deathful point of Ebro's sword.
In soft, sad murmurs over Inez' grave.(8) Now, nerved with hope, their night of slavery past,
They bless the call who dared the first withstand(9) Each heart beats high in freedom's buxom blast;
The Moslem wasters of their bleeding land, Lo! Conquest calls, and beck’ning from afar,
When firm in faith, and red with slaughtered foes, Uplifts his laurel wreath, and waves them on to
Thy spear-encircled crown, Asturia(10) rose,
Nor these alone; as loud the war-notes swell, -Wo to th' usurper then, who dares defy
La Mancha’s shepherd quits his cork-built cell; The sturdy wrath of rustic loyalty!
Alhama's strength is there, and those who till Wo to the hireling bands, foredoomed to feel
(A hardy race !) Morena's scorched hill; How strong in labour's horny hand the steel !(18)
And in rude arms through wide Gallicia's reign, Behold e’en now, beneath yon Bætic skies
The swarthy vintage pours her vigorous train. Another Pavia bids her trophies rise ;-
“Saw ye those tribes ? not theirs the plumed E'en now in base disguise and friendly night
boast,

Their robber-monarch speeds his secret flight;
The sightly trappings of a marshalled host; And with new zeal the fiery Lusians rear,
No weeping nations curse their deadly skill, (Roused by their neighbour's worth,) the long-ne-
Expert in danger, and inured to kill:

glected spear. But theirs the kindling eye, the strenuous arm; “So when stern winter chills the April showers, Theirs the dark cheek, with patriot ardour warm, And iron frost forbids the timely flowers; Unblanched by sluggard ease, or slavish fear, Oh! deem not thou the vigorous herb below And proud and pure the blood that mantles there. Is crushed and dead beneath the incumbent snow; Theirs from the birth is toil;-o'er granite steep, Such tardy suns shall wealthier harvests bring And heathy wild, to guard the wandering sheep; Than all the early smiles of flattering spring." To urge the labouring mule, or bend the spear Sweet as the martial trumpet's silver swell, 'Gainst the night-prowling wolf, or felon bear; On my charmed sense th' unearthly accents fell; The bull's hoarse rage in dreadful sport to mock, Me wonder held, and joy chastised by fear, And meet with single sword his bellowing shock. As one who wished; yet hardly hoped to hear. Each martial chant they know, each manly rhyme,“ Spirit,” I cried, “ dread teacher, yet declare, Rude, ancient lays of Spain's heroic time.(11) In that good fight, shall Albion's arm be there? Of him in Xere's carnage fearless found,(12) Can Albion, brave, and wise, and proud, refrain (His glittering brows with hostile spear-heads To hail a kindred soul, and link her fate with bound;)

Spain? Of that chaste king whose hardy mountain Too long her sons, estranged from war and toil, train(13)

Have loathed the safety of the sea-girt isle; O'erthrew the knightly race of Charlemagne; And chid the waves which pent their fire within, And chiefest him who reared his banner tall(14) As the stalled war-horse woos the battle's din. (Illustrious exile!) o'er Valencia's wall; Oh, by this throbbing heart, this patriot glow, Ungraced by kings, whose Moorish title rose Which, well I feel, each English breast shall The toil-earned homage of his wondering foes. “ Yes; every mould'ring tower and haunted Say, shall my country, roused om deadly sleep, flood,

Crowd with her hardy sons yon western steep; And the wild murmurs of the waving wood; And shall once more the star of France grow Each sandy waste, and orange-scented dell,

pale, And red Buraba's field, and Lugo,(15) tell, And dim its beams in Roncesvalles’ vale?(19) How their brave fathers fought, how thick the in- Or shall foul sloth and timid doubt conspire vaders fell.

To mar our zeal, and waste our manly fire ?" Oh! virtue long forgot, or vainly tried, Still as I gazed, his lowering features spread, To glut a bigot's zeal, or tyrant's pride; High rose his form, and darkness veiled his head; Condemned in distant climes to bleed and die Fast from his eyes the ruddy lightning broke, 'Mid the dank poisons of Tlascala's(16) sky; To heaven he reared his arm, and thus he spoke: Or when stern Austria stretched her lawless "Wo, trebly wo to their slow zeal who bore reign,

Delusive comfort to Iberia's shore ! And spent in northern fights the flower of Spain; Who in mid conquest, vaunting, yet dismayed, Or war's hoarse furies yelled on Y sell's shore, Now gave and now withdrew their laggard aid; And Alva's ruffian sword was drunk with gore. Who, when each bosom glowed, each heart beat Yet dared not then Tlascala's chiefs withstand high, The lofty daring of Castilia’s band;

Chilled the pure stream of England's energy,

know;

And lost in courtly forms and blind delay And robed in darkness, and surrounding fears,
The loitered hours of glory's short-lived day. Speeds on their destined road the march of years!

“O peerless island, generous, bold, and free, No!-shall yon eagle, from the snare set free,
Lost, ruined Albion, Europe mourns for thee! Stoop to thy wrist, or cower his wing for thee?
Hadst thou but known the hour in mercy given And shall it tame despair, thy strong control,
To stay thy doom, and ward the ire of Heaven; Or quench a nation's still reviving soul ?-
Bared in the cause of man thy warrior breast, Go, bid the force of countless bands conspire
And crushed on yonder hills th' approaching pest, To curb the wandering wind, or grasp the fire !
Then had not murder sacked thy smiling plain, Cast thy vain fetters on the troublous sea !-
And wealth, and worth, and wisdom, all been vain. But Spain, the brave, the virtuous, shall be free."

“Yet, yet awake! while fear and wonder wait, On the poised balance, trembling still with fate !(20) If aught their worth can plead, in battle tried,

NOTES. Who tinged with slaughter Tajo's curdling tide; (What time base truce the wheels of war could

Note 1, page 8, col. 1. stay,

In Dresden's grove the dewy cool I sought. And the weak victor flung his wreath away;)

The opening lines of this poem were really comOr theirs, who, doled in scanty bands afar,

posed in the situation (the Park of Dresden), and Waged without hope the disproportioned war,

under the influence of the feelings, which they And cheerly still, and patient of distress, Led their forwasted files on numbers number- Frederic's campaign took away from the author

attempt to describe. The disastrous issue of King less!(21)

all inclination to continue them, and they remained “ Yes, through the march of many a weary day, neglected till the hopes of Europe were again reAs yon dark column toils its seaward way;

vived by the illustrious efforts of the Spanish people. As bare, and shrinking from th’inclement sky, The languid soldier bends him down to die;

Note 2, page 8, col. 2. As o'er those helpless limbs, by murder gored,

Pratzen's hill.
The base pursuer waves his weaker sword,

The hill of Pratzen was the point most obsti-
And, trod to earth, by trampling thousands pressed,
The horse-hoof glances from that mangled breast; taken its name from the neighbouring town of

nately contested in the great battle which has
E'en in that hour his hope to England flies,
And fame and vengeance fire his closing eyes.

Austerlitz; and here the most dreadful slaughter “Oh! if such hope can plead, or his, whose took place, both of French and Russians. The

author had, a few weeks before he wrote the bier

above, visited every part of this celebrated field. Drew from his conquering host their latest tear; Whose skill, whose matchless valour, gilded flight;

Note 3, page 8, col. 2.
Entombed in foreign dust, a hasty soldier's rite;-

And, sed with slaughter, Freedom's humble crest.
Oh! rouse thee yet to conquer and to save,
And Wisdom guide the sword which Justice gave!

It is necessary perhaps to mention, that, by “And yet the end is not! from yonder towers

freedom, in this and in other passages of the preWhile one Saguntum(22) mocks the victor's sent poem, political liberty is understood in oppo

sition to the usurpation of any single European powers; While one brave heart defies a servile chain,

In the particular instance of Spain, howAnd one true soldier wields a lance for Spain;

ever, it is a hope which the author has not yet Trust not, vain tyrant, though thy spoiler band

seen reason to abandon, that a struggle so nobly In tenfold myriads darken half the land;

maintained by popular energy, must terminate in (Vast as that power, against whose impious lord the establishment not only of national independ Bethulia’s matron(23) shook the nightly sword;) ence, but of civil and religious liberty. Though ruth and fear thy woundless soul defy,

Note 4, page 9, col. 1.
And fatal genius fire thy martial eye;

Gallia's vaunting train.
Yet trust not here o'er yielding realms to roam,
Or cheaply bear a bloodless laurel home!

The confidence and shameful luxury of the “No! by His viewless arm whose righteous French nobles, during the seven years' war, are

very sarcastically noticed by Templeman.. Defends the orphan's tear, the poor

man's prayer;

Note 5, page 9, col. 2.
Who, Lord of nature, o'er this changeful ball
Decrees the rise of empires, and the fall;

Where youthful Lewis led.
Wondrous in all his ways, unseen, unknown (24) Prince Lewis Ferdinand of Prussia, who fell
Who treads the wine-press of the world alone; gloriously with almost the whole of his regiment.

state.

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Note 6, page 9, col. 2.

cording to the Spanish romances, and the graver By her whose charms, &c.

authority of Mariana, the whole force of CharleThe Queen of Prussia; beautiful, unfortunate, valles. Bertrand del Carpio, the son of Alonzo's

magne and the twelve peers of France at Roncesand unsubdued by the severest reverses.

sister, Ximena, was his general; and according to Note 7, page 9, col. 2.

Don Quixote (no incompetent authority on such The covering cherub, &c.

a subject) put the celebrated Ordando to the same " Thou art the anointed cherub that coverest."' _ death as Hercules inflicted on Antæus. His reaAddressed to Tyre, by Ezekiel, xxviii. 14.

son was, that the nephew of Charlemagne was

enchanted, and like Achilles only vulnerable in Note 8, page 11, col. 1.

the heel, to guard which he wore always iron Inez' grave.

shoes. See Mariana, l. vü. c. xi.; Don Quixote, Inez de Castro, the beloved mistress of the Infant book i. c. I.; and the notes on Mr. Southey's Don Pedro, son of Alphonso IV. King of Portugal, Chronicle of the Cid; a work replete with powerand stabbed by the orders, and, according to Ca- ful description, and knowledge of ancient history moens, in the presence of that monarch. A foun- and manners, and which adds a new wreath to tain near Coimbra, the scene of their loves and one, who “nullum fere scribendi genus intactum misfortunes, is still pointed out by tradition, and reliquit, nullum quod tetigit non ornavit.” called Amores.—De la Clede, Hist. de Portugalle,

Note 14, page 11, col. 1. 410. tom. i. page 282-7:-and Camoens' Lusiad,

Chiefest him who reared his banner tall, &c. canto 3, stanza cxxxv.

Rodrigo Diaz, of Bivar, surnamed the Cid by
Note 9, page 11, col 1.

the Moors.-See Mr. Southey's Chronicle
Who dared the first withstand
The Moslem waters of their bleeding land.

Note 15, page 11, col. 1.
The Asturians, who under Pelagius first op-

Red Buraba's field, and Lugo posed the career of Mahometan success.

Buraba and Lugo were renowned scenes of Note 10, page 11, col. 1.

Spanish victories over the Moors, in the reigns

of Bermudo, or, as his name is Latinized, VereThy spear-encircled crown, Asturia.

mundus, and Alonso the Chaste. Of Lago the "La couronne de fer de Dom Pélage, -cette British have since obtained a melancholy knowcouronne si simple mais si glorieuse, dont chaque ledge. fleuron este 'formé du før d'une lance arrachée aux Chevaliers Maures que se heros avoit fait

Note 16, page 11, col. 1. tomber sous ses coups." —Roman de Dom Ursino

Tlascala. le Navarin, Tressan, tom. ix. 52.

An extensive district of Mexico; its inhabitants Note 11, page 11, col. 1.

were the first Indians who submitted to the SpaRude ancient lays of Spain's heroic time. niards under Cortez See the two elegant specimens given by Bishop

Note 17, page 11, col. 2. Percy in his Reliques; and the more accurate

Her captive king. translations of Mr. Rodd in his Civil Wars of Grenada.

Francis I. taken prisoner at the battle of Pavia.
Note 12, page 11, col. 1.

Note 18, page 11, col. 2.
Him in Xeres' carnage fearless found.

Yon Baotic skies. The Gothic monarchy in Spain was overthrown Andalusia forms a part of the ancient Hispania by the Mussulmans at the battle of Xeres, the Boetica. Christian army being defeated with dreadful slaughter, and the death of their King, the un

Note 18, page 11, col. 2. happy and licentious Roderigo. Pelagius assem

Roncesvalles vale. bled the small band of those fugitives who despised See the former note on Alonso the Chaste. submission, amid the mountains of the Asturias, under the name of King of Oviedo.

Note 20, page 12, col. 1.
Note 13, page, 11, col. 1.

The poised balance trembling still with fate.
or that chaste king, &c.

This line is imitated from one of Mr. Roscoe's Alonso, surnamed the Chaste, with ample rea-spirited verses on the commencement of the French son, if we believe his historians; who defeated, ac-revolution.

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