O'er glories gonc thc invaders march,

Would that I were cold with those, Weeps triumph o'er each levell’d arch

Since this hour I live to see; But let Freedom rejoice,

When the doubts of coward toes With her heart in her voice;.

Scarce dare trust a man with thet, Put her dand on her sword,

Dreading each should set thee free. Doubly shall she be adored ;

Oh! although in dungeons pent, France hath twice too well been taught

All their chains were light to me,
The "inoral lesson" dearly bought

Gazing on thy soul unbent,
Hicr safety sits not on a throne,

Would the sycophants of him
But in equal rights and laws,

Now so deaf u duty's prayer, Hearts and hands in one great cause

Were his borrow'd glories dim, Freedom, such as God hath given

In his native darkness share ? Unto a!l bencath his beaven,

Were that world this hour his own, With their breath, and from their birth,

All thou calmly dost resign,
Though guilt would sweep it from the earth; Could he purchase with that throne
With a fierce and lavish hand

Hearts like those which still are thine ?
Scattering nations' wealth like sand;
Pouring nations' blood like water,

My chief, my king, my friend, adieu !

Never did I droop before; In imperial seas of slaughter!

Never to my sovereign sue, But the heart ar the mind,

As his foes I now implore, And the voice of mankind,

All I ask is to divide Shall arise in communion

Every peril he must brave, And who shall resist that proud union ?

Sharing by the hero's side
The time is past when swords subdued

His fall, his exile, and his grave.
Man may die—the soul's renew'd:
Even in this low world of care,
Freedom ne'er shall want an hcir;

ON THE STAR OF "THE LEGION OF HONOUR Millions breathe but to inherit

(FROM THE FRENCH.) Her for-ever bounding spirit When once more her hosts assemble,

Star of the brave!- whose beam hath shed Tyrants shall bclicve and tremble

Such glory o'er the quick and deadSmile they at this idle threat ?

Thou radiant and adored deceit!
Crimson tears will follow yet.

Which millions rush'd in arms to greet,
Wild meteor of immortal birth!

Why rise in heaven to set on earth ?

Souls of slain heroes form'd thy rays; AH wept, but particularly Savary, and a Polish officer who Eternity flash'd through thy blaze! had been exalted from the ranks by Buona parte. He clung The music of thy martial sphere to his master's knces; Wiole a letter to Lord Keith, entrcat- Was fame on high and honour here; ing permission to accompany him, even in the most menial

And thy light broke on human eyes capacity, which could not be adınitted."

Like a volcano of the skics.
Must thou go, my glorious chicf,
Sever'd from thy faithful few ?

Like lava roll'd thy stream of blood,
Who can tell thy warrior's grief,

And swept down empircs with its flood;
Maddening o'er that long adicu ?

Earth rock'd beneath thee to her base,
Woman's love and friendship’s zeal-

As thou didst lighten through all space;
Dear as both have been to me-

And the shorn sun grew dim in air,
What are they to all I feel,

And set while thou wert dwelling there.
With a soldier's faith, for thee?

Before thee rose, and with thcc grew,
Idol of the soldier's soul !

A rainbow of the loveliest huc,
First in fight, but mightiest now:

or three bright colours,' each divine, Many could a world control :

And fit for that celestial sign;
Thcc alone no doom can bow.

For freedom's hand had blended them
By thy side for years I dared

Like tints in an immortal gem.
Death, and envied those who fell,
When their dying shout was heard

One tint was of the sunbeam's dyes ;
Blessing him they served so well."

One, the blue depth of seraphs' eyes;

Onc, the pure spirit's veil of white | "At Waterloo, one man was seen, whose left arm was shat- Had robed in radiance of its light; ered by a cannon-ball, lo wrench it off with the other, and, The three so mingled did besccm shrowing it up in the air, exclaimed to his comrades. Vive

The texture of a heavenly dream. 'Empereur jusqu'à la mort. There were many other instances of the like; this you mav, however, depend on as que A private Lelter from Brussels.

1 The tri-colour.

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Star of the brave! thy ray is pale,

And darkness must again prevail !

But, oh thou rainbow of the free !

Absent or present, still to thee,
Our tears and blood must flow for thee.

My friend, what magic spells belong !
When thy bright promise fades away,

As all can tell, who share, like me,
Our life is but a load of clay.

In turn, thy converse and thy song.

But when the dreaded hour shall come,
And freedom hallows with her tread

By friendship ever deem'd too nigh,
The silent cities of the dead;

And “ MEMORY” o'er her Druid's tomb
For beautiful in death are they

Shall weep that aught of thee can die,
Who proudly fall in her array;
And soon, oh goddess ! may we be

How fondly will she then repay

Thy homage offer'd at her shrine,
For evermore with them or thee!

And blend, while ages roll away,

Her name immortally with thine !

April 19, 1812.

Fas EWELL to the land where the gloom of my glory Though the day of my destiny's over,
Aro.e and o'ershadow'd the earth with her name-

And the star of my fate hath declined,
She abandons me now,-but the page of her story, Thy soft heart refused to discover
The brightest or blackest, is fill'd with my fame.

The faults which so many could find;
I have warr'd with a world which vanquish'd me only Though thy soul with my grief was acquainted,
When the meteor of conquest allured me too far ;

It shrunk not to share it with me, I have coped with the nations which dread me thus And the love which my spirit hath painted lonely,

It never hath found but in thee. The last single captive to millions in war!

Then when nature around me is smiling Farewell to thee, France! when thy diadem crown'd me, The last smile which arswers to mine, I made thee the gem and the wonder of earth,

I do not believe it beguiling,
But thy weakness decrees I should leave as I found thee, Because it reminds me of thine;
Decay'd in thy glory and sunk in thy worth.

And when winds are at war with the ocean, Oh! for the veteran hearts that were wasted

As the breasts I believed in with me,
In strife with the storm, when their battles were won- If their billows excite an emotion,
Then the eagle, whose gaze in that moment was blasted, It is that they bear me from thee.
Had still soard with eyes fix'd on Victory's sun !

Though the rock of my last hope is shiver'd, Farewell to thee, France !—but when liberty rallies

And its fragments are sunk in the wave, Once more in thy regions, remember me then

Though I feel that my soul is deliver'd The violet still grows in the depth of thy valleys;

To pain-it shall not be its slave. Though wither'd, thy tears will unfold it again :

There is many a pang to pursue me: Yet, yet I may baMe the hosts that surround us,

They may crush, but they shall not contemnAnd yet may thy heart leap awake to my voice- They may torture, but shall not subdue meThere are links which must break in the chain that has 'Tis of thee that I think not of them. bound us,

Though human, thou didst not deceive me,
Then turn thee, and call on the chief of thy choice!

Though woman, thou didst not forsake,
Though loved, thou forborest to grieve me,

Though slander'd, thou never couldst shake,-

Though trusted, thou didst not disclaim me, ROUSSEAU_Voltaire-our Gibbon—and de Stael

Though parted, it was not to fly, Leman!' these names are worthy of thy shore,

Though watchful, 't was not to defame me, Thy shore of names like these; wert thou no more,

Nor mute, that the world might belie. Their memory thy remembrance would recall:

Yet I blame not the world, nor Jespise it, To them thy banks were lovely as to all ;

Nor the war of the many with oneBut they have made them lovelier, for the lore

If my soul was not fitted to prize it, Of mighty minds doth hallow in the core

'T was folly not sooner to shun. Of human hearts the ruin of a wall

And if dearly that error hath cost me, Where dwelt the wise and wond'rous; but by thee And more than I once could foresee, How much more, Lake of Beauty! do we feel,

I have found that, whatever it lost me,
In sweetly gliding o'er thy crystal sea,

It could not deprive me of thee.
The wild glow of that not ungentle zeal,
Which of the heirs of immortality

From the wreck of the past, which hath perish' Is proud, and makes the breath of glory real !

Thus much I at least may recall,

It hath taught me that what I most cherish'd 1. Geneva, Ferney, Coppet, Lausanne.

Deserved to be dearest of all:


In the desert a fountain is springing,

Where had been heap'd a mass of holy things
In the wide waste there still is a tree,

For an unholy usage; they raked up,
And a bird in the solitude singing,

And shivering scraped with their cold skeleton hands Which speaks to my spirit of thee.

The feeble ashes, and their feeble breath

Blew for a little life, and made a flame

Which was a mockery; then they lifted up
I had a dream, which was not all a dream.

Their eyes as it grew lighter, and beheld The bright sun was extinguish'd, and the stars

Each others' aspects—saw, and shriek’d, and diedDid wander darkling in the eternal space,

Even of their mutual hideousness they died, Rayless, and pathless, and the icy earth

Unknowing who he was upon whose brow

Famine had written fiend. The world was void, Swung blind and blackening in the moonless air ; Morn came, and went—and came, and brought no day. The populous and the powerful was a lump, And men forgot their passions in the dread

Seasonless, herbless, treeless, manless, lifelessOt this their desolation; and all hearts

A lump of death--a chaos of hard clay. Were chill'd into a selfish prayer for light:

The rivers, lakes, and ocean, all stood still, Ard they did live by watch-fires—and the thrones,

And nothing stirr’d within their silent depths;

Ships sailorless lay rotting on the sea,
The palaces of crowned kings—the huts,
The habitations of all things which dwell,

And their masts fell down piecemeal; as they dropp, Were burnt for beacons ; cities were consumed,

They slept on the abyss without a surgeAnd men were gather'd round their blazing homes

The waves were dead; the tides were in their grave, To look once more into each other's face:

The moon their mistress had expired before ;

The winds were wither'd in the stagnant air, Happy were those who dwelt within the eye of the volcanos and their mountain-torch:

And the clouds perish'd; darkness had no need

Of aid from them- she was the universe.
A fearful hope was all the world contain'd;
Fores's were set on fire-but hour by hour
They fell and faded-and the crackling trunks

Extinguish'd with a crash-and all was black.
The brows of men by the despairing light
Wore an unearthly aspect, as by fits

I stood beside the grave of him who blazed The flashes fell upon them ; some lay down

The comet of a season, and I saw And hid their eyes and wept; and some did rest

The humblest of all sepulchres, and gazed Their chins upon their clenched hands, and smiled;

With not the less of sorrow than of awe And others hurried to and fro, and fed

On that neglected turf and quiet stone, Their funeral piles with fuel, and look'd up

With name no clearer than the names unknown, With mad disquietude on the dull sky,

Which say unread around it; and I ask'd The pall of a past world; and then again

The gardener of that ground, why it might be With curses cast them down upon the dust,

That for this plant strangers his memory task'd And gnash'd their teeth and howl'd: the wild birds Through the thick deaths of half a century; shriek’d,

And thus he answer'd—“Well, I do not know And, terrified, did futter on the ground,

Why frequent travellers turn to pilgrims so; And flap their useless wings; the wildest brutes

He died before my day of sextonship, Caine came and tremulous; and vipers crawl'd

And I had not the digging of this grave." And twined themselves among the multitude,

And is this all? I thought,--and do we rip Hissing, but stingless—they were slain for tood:

"The veil of immortality, and crave And war, which for a moment was no more.

I know not what of honour and of light Did glut himself again-a meal was bought

Through unborn ages, to endure this blight? With blood, and each sate sullenly apart,

So soon and so successless ? As I said, Gorging himself in gloom: no love was left;

The architect of all on which we tread, All earth was bat one thoughı—and that was death,

For earth is but a tombstone, did essay Immediate and irglorious; and the pang

To extricate remembrance from the clay, of famine fed upon all entrails—men

Whose minglings might confuse a Newton's thouge Diea, and their bones were tombless as their flesh;

Were it not that all life niust end in one, The meagre by the meagre were devour'd,

Of which we are but dreamers ;--as he caught Even dogs assail'd their masters, all save one,

As 't were the twilight of a former sun, And he was faithful to a corse and kept

Thus spoke he,—- I believe the man of whom The birds and beasts and famısh'd men at bay,

You wot, who lies in this selected tomb, T! hunger clung them, or the dropping dead

Was a most famous writer in his day, Lured their lank jaws; himself sought out no food,

And therefore travellers step from out their way But with a piteous and perpetual moan

To pay him honour,-and myself whate'er And a quck desolate cry, licking the hand

Your honour pleases"—then most pleased I shook W nich answer'd not with a caress-he died.

From out my pocket's avaricious ncok The crowd was famish'd by degrees; but two

Some certain coins of silver, which as 't were of an enormous city did survive,

Perforce I gave this man, though I could spare And :hev were enemies; they met beside

So much but inconveniently ;-ye smile, f'he dying embers of an altar-place,

I see ye, ye profane ones! all the while,

Because my homely phrase the truth would tell.
You are the fools, not 1—for I did dwell
With a deep thought, and with a soften's eye,
On that old sexton's natural homily,
In which there was obscurity and fame,
The glory and the nothing of a name.


firm will, and a deep sense, Which even in torture can descry Its own concentred recompense,

Triumphant where it dares defy,
And making death a victory.


On shame to thee, land of the Gaui!

Oh shame to thy children and thee !
Unwise in thy glory, and base in thy fall,

How wretched thy portion shall be !
Derision snall strike thee forlorn,

A mockery that never shall die ;
The curses of hate, and the hisses of scorn,

Shall burden the winds of thy sky;
And proud o'er thy ruin for ever be hurld
The laughter of triumph, the jeers of the world!
Oh, where is thy spirit of yore,

The spirit that breathed in thy dead, When gallantry's star was the beacon before,

And honour the passion that led ? Thy storms have awaken'd their sleep,

They groan from the place of their rest, And wrathfully murmur, and sullenly weep,

To see the foul stain on thy breast; For where is the glory they left thee in trust? 'Tis scatter'd in darkness, 'l is trampled in dust !

TITAN! to whose immortal eyes

The sufferings of mortality,

Seen in their sad reality,
Were not as things that gods despise ;
What was thy pity's recompense ?
A silent suffering, and intense;
The rock, the vulture, and the chain,
All that the proud can feel of pain,
The agony they do not show,
The suffocating sense of woe,

Which speaks but in its loneliness,
And then is jealous lest the sky
Should have a listener, nor will sigh

Until its voice is echoless.
Titan! to thee the strife was given

Between the suffering and the will,

Which torture where they cannot kill ;
And the inexorable heaven,
And the deaf tyranny of fate,
The ruling principle of hate,
Which for its pleasure doth create
The things it may annihilate,
Refused thee even the boon to die
The wretched gift eternity

Was thine-and thou hast borne it well.
All that the Thunderer wrung from thee
Was but the menace which Aung back
On him the torments of thy rack;
The fate thou didst so well foresee,

But would not to appease him tell:
And in thy silence was his sentence,
And in his soul a vain repentance,
And evil dread so ill dissembled
That in his hand the lightnings trembled.
Thy godlike crime was to be kind,

To render with thy precepts less

The sum of human wretchedness,
And strengthen man with his own mind;
But baffled as thou wert from high,
Still in thy patient energy,

In the endurance, and repulse of thine impenetrable spirit,

Which earth and heaven could not convulse, A mighty lesson we inherit :

Thou art a symbol and a sign
To mortals of their late and force;

Like thee, man is i part divine,
A troubled stream from a pure source ;
And man in portions can foresee
His owa funereal destiny ;
His wrcichedness, and his resistance,
And his sad unallied existence :
To which his spirit may oppose
Itself—an equal to all woes,

Go, look to the kingdoms of earth,

From Indus all round to the pole,
And something of goodness, of honour, and worth,

Shall brighten the sins of the soul.
But thou art alone in thy shame,

The world cannot liken thee there;
Abhorrence and vice have disfigured thy name

Beyond the low reach of compare ; Stupendous in guilt, thou shalt lend us through timo A proverb, a by-word, for treachery and crime! While conquest illumined his sword,

While yet in his prowess he stood,
Thy praises still follow'd the steps of thy lord,

And welcomed the torrent of blood :
Though tyranny sat on his crown,

And wither'd the nations afar,
Yet bright in thy view was that despot's renown,

Till fortune deserted his car ; Then back from the chieftain thou slunkest away, The foremost to insult, the first to betray! Forgot were the feats he had done,

The toils he had borne in thy cause • Thuu turned'st to worship a new rising sun,

And waft other songs of applause. But the storm was beginning to lour,

Adversity clouded his beam; And honour and faith were the brag of an hour,

And loyalty's self but a dream :To him thou hadst banish'd thy vows were restored, And the first that had scoff?d were the first that ailored. What tumult thus burthens the air ?

What throng thus encircles his throne ?

I is the shout of delight, 't is the millions that swear Next—for some gracious service unexy.cest,
His sceptre shall rule them alone.

And from its wages only to be guess'd
Reverses shall brighten their zeal,

Raised from the toilet to the table, where
Misfortune shall hallow his name,

Her wondering betters wait behind her chair :
And the world that pursues him shall mournfully feel With eye unmoved, and forehead unabash'd,

How quenchless the spirit and flame She dines from off the plate she lately wası l. That Frenchmen will breathe, when their hearts Quick with the tale, and ready with the ic', are on fire,

The genial confidante and general spy ; For the hero they love, and the chief they admire! Who could, ye gods! her next employment : less ?

An only infant's earliesi Their hero has rush'd to the field;

governess !

She taught the child to read, and taught so well, His laurels are cover'd with shade

That she herself, by teaching, learn'd to speia But where is the spirit that never should yield,

An adept next in penmanship she grows,
The loyalty never to fade?

As many a nameless slander deftly showe:
In a moment desertion and guile

What she had made the pupil of her art,
Abandon'd him up to the foe;
T'he dastards that flourish'd and grew in his smile None know-but that high soul secured the heart,

And panted for the truth it could not hear,
Forsook and renounced him in woc;
And the millions that swore they would perish to save,

With longing breast and undeluded ear.
Beheid n.m a fugitive, captive, and slave ! Foild was perversion by that youthful mind,
The savage, all wild in his glen,

Which Aattery fool'd not, baseness could nou blind, Is nobler and better than thou ;

Deceit infect not, near contagion soil,
Thou standest a wonder, a marvel to men,

Indulgence weaken, nor example spoil,
Such perfidy blackens thy brow!

Nor master'd science tempt her to look down If thou wert ihe place of my birth,

On humbler talents with a pitying frown,
At once from thy arms would I sever;

Nor genius swell, nor beauty render vain,
I'd Ay to the uttermost parts of the earth,

Nor envy ruffle to retaliate pain,
And quit thee for ever and ever;

Nor fortune change, pride raise, nor passion bow,

Nor virtue teach austerity-till now.
And thinking of thee in my long after-years,
Should but kindle my blushes and waken my tears. Serenely purest of her sex that live,

But wanting one sweet weakness—to forgive; Oh, shame to thee, land of the Gaul!

Too shock'd at faults her soul can never know, Oh, shame to thy children and thee! She deems that all could be like her below: Crwise in thy glory, and base in thy fall, Foe to all vice, yet hardly virtue's friend How wretched thy portion shall be !

For virtue pardons those she would amend. Derision shall strike thee forlorn,

But to the theme-now laid aside too long,
And mockery that never shall die ;

The baleful burthen of this honest song-
The curses of hate, and the hisses of scorn,
Shall burthen the winds of thy sky;

Though all her former functions are no more,

She rules the circle which she served before. And proud o'er thy ruin for ever be hurl'd

If mothers--none know why-before her quake, The laughter of triumph, the jeers of the world!

If daughters dread her for the mother's sake;
If early habits-those false links which bind,

At times, the loftiest to the moanest mind-

Have given her power too deeply to instil
Lines composed on the occasion of H, R. H. the P- The angry essence of her deadly will ;
R-— being seen standing betwixt the coffins of Henry If like a snake she steal within your walls,
VIII and Charles I. in the royal vault at Windsor.

Till the black slime betray her as she crawls; Famed for contemptuous breach of sacred ties, If like a viper to the heart she wind, By headless Charles, see heartless Henry lies; And leave the verom there she did not find; Between them stands another sceptred thing- What marvel that his hag of hatred works It moves, it reigns—in all but name, a king : Eternal evil latent as she lurks, Charles to his people, Henry to his wife- To make a Pandemonium where she dwells, In him the double tyrant starts to life:

And reign the Hecate of domestic hells ! Justice and death have mix'd their dust in vain,

Skill'd by a touch to deepen scandal's tints,
Each royal vampyre wakes to life again:
Ah! what can tombs avail-since these disgorge While mingling truth with falsehood, sneers with smiles,

With all the kind mendacity of hints,
The blood and dust of both — to mould a G...ge. A thread of candour with a web of wiles ;


A plain blunt show of briefly-spoken seeming,

To hide her bloodless heart's soul-harden'd scheming;
A SKETCH FROM PRIVATE LIFE. A lip of lies, a face form’d to conceal,
Houest--honest Tago!

And, without feeling, mock at all who feel;
If that thou be'st a devil, I cannot kill thee ! With a vile mask the Gorgon would disown,

SHAKSPEARE. A cheek of parchment, and an eye of stone. Born in the garret, in the kitchen bred,

Mark how the channels of her yellow blood Promoted thence to deck her mistress' head; Ooze to her skin, and stagnate there to mun

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