As they roar on the shore,

When the stormy tempests blow;

When the battle rages loud and long,

And the stormy tempests blow.

VI.

The meteor flag of England

Shall yet terrific burn;

Till danger's troubled night depart,

And the star of peace return.

Then, then, ye ocean-warriors!

Our song and feast shall flow

To the fame of your name,

When the storm has ceased to blow;

When the fiery fight is heard no more,

And the storm has ceased to blow.

HOHENLINDEN.

ON Linden, when the sun was low,

All bloodless lay th' untrodden snow,

And dark as winter was the flow

Of Iser, rolling rapidly.

But Linden saw another sight,

When the drum beat, at dead of night,

Commanding fires of death to light
The darkness of her scenery.

By torch and trumpet fast array'd,

Each horseman drew his battle-blade,

And furious every charger neigh'd,

To join the dreadful revelry.

Then shook the hills with thunder riven,

Then rush'd the steed to battle driven,

And louder than the bolts of heaven,

Far flash'd the red artillery.

But redder yet that light shall glow,
On Linden's hills of stained snow,

And bloodier yet the torrent flow

Of Iser, rolling rapidly.

"Tis morn,

but scarce yon level sun

Can pierce the war-clouds, rolling dun,

Where furious Frank, and fiery Hun,

Shout in their sulph'rous canopy.

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!

Few, 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.

GLENARA.

O HEARD ye yon pibrach sound sad in the gale,
Where a band cometh slowly with weeping and wail?
'Tis the chief of Glenara laments for his dear;
And her sire, and the people, are call'd to her bier.

Glenara came first with the mourners and shroud; Her kinsmen they follow'd, but mourn'd not aloud: Their plaids all their bosoms were folded around : They march'd all in silence, they look'd on the ground.