The dead to life return; My brethren! in your breasts they burn, Now launch upon the foe The lightning of your rage! Strike, strike the assailing giants low, They yield, they break,-they fly; Pursue they faint,-they fall,-they die: Spirit of Vengeance! rest: Sweet Mercy cries, "Forbear!" She clasps the vanquished to her breast; Thou wilt not pierce them there? -Thus vanish Britain's foes O'ershadowing laurels deck The living hero's brows; But lovelier wreaths entwine his neck,— His children and his spouse! Exulting o'er his lot, The dangers he has braved, He clasps the dear ones, hails the cot, Daughters of Albion! weep; Your fathers, husbands, brethren sleep, Oh, gently close the eye That loved to look on you ; Oh, seal the lip, whose earliest sigh, With knots of sweetest flowers And wash their wounds with true-love showers, For beautiful in death The Warrior's corse appears, Embalmed by fond Affection's breath, And bathed in Woman's tears. Give me the death of those Their loveliest mother Earth In her sweet lap who gave them birth WAR SONG. HEAVEN speed the righteous sword, Come, brethren, hand in hand, Fight for your fatherland. Germania from afar Invokes her sons to war; Awake! put forth your powers, On, to the combat, on! Go where your sires have gone; On, to the combat, on! O Liberty! thy form Shines through the battle-storm; THE OCEAN. WRITTEN AT SCARBOROUGH, IN THE SUMMER OF 1805. ALL hail to the ruins,* the rocks and the shores! Now brilliant with sunbeams, and dimpled with oars, While soft o'er thy bosom the cloud-shadows sail, Or dive in the gulf, or triumphantly ride, Like foam on the surges, the swans of the tide! From the tumult and smoke of the city set free, From the crest of the mountain I gaze upon thee; Embraces the boundless expanse, And moves on thy waters, wherever they roll, My spirit descends where the dayspring is born, And the breezes that rock the light cradle of morn O regions of beauty, of love, and desire! O gardens of Eden! in vain Placed far on the fathomless main, Where Nature with Innocence dwelt in her youth, * Scarborough Castle. But now the fair rivers of Paradise wind Through countries and kingdoms o'erthrown; Despoiling, destroying its charms; Beneath his broad footstep the Ganges is dry, Thus the pestilent Upas, the demon of trees, The birds on the wing, and the flowers in their beds, That darkens the noonday with death, And pale ghosts of travellers wander around, Ah! why hath JEHOVAH, in forming the world, His ramparts of rocks round the continent hurled, If man may transgress His eternal command, To ravage the uttermost earth, And violate nations and realms that should be There are, gloomy Ocean! a brotherless clan, The poor disinherited outcasts of man, Whom avarice coins into slaves! From the homes of their kindred, their forefathers' graves, Love, friendship, and conjugal bliss, They are dragged on the hoary abyss; The shark hears their shrieks, and, ascending to day, Demands of the spoiler his share of the prey. Then joy to the tempest that whelms them beneath, But woe to the winds that propitiously breathe, Where the vultures and vampires of Mammon resort; Where Europe exultingly drains The life-blood from Africa's veins; Where man rules o'er man with a merciless rod, The hour is approaching, a terrible hour! Shall this be the fate of the cane-planted isles, When the sun o'er the ocean descending in smiles May the sorrows of Africa cease; And the slave and his master devoutly unite As homeward my weary-winged fancy extends Ah me! what new prospects, new horrors arise! All foaming and panting with blood; Rebounds from the battle, and flies to his shores. For Britannia is wielding her trident to-day, And hurling her thunder with absolute sway She triumphs; the winds and the waters conspire To spread her invincible name; The universe rings with her fame; * Alluding to the glorious success of the Moravian missionaries among the Negroes in the West Indies. |