His jest while each blithe comrade round him flings,

And moves to death with military glee : Boast, Erin, boast them! tameless, frank, and free,

In kindness warm, and fierce in danger known,

Rough Nature's children, humorous as she: And HE, yon Chieftain-strike the proudest tone

Of thy bold harp, green Isle !-the Hero is thine own.

LXI.

OW on the scene Vimeira should be

shown,

On Talavera's fight should Roderick gaze, And hear Corunna wail her battle won,

And see Busaco's crest with lightning

blaze :

But shall fond fable mix with heroes' praise ?

Hath Fiction's stage for Truth's long triumphs room?

And dare her wild-flowers mingle with the

bays,

That claim a long eternity to bloom

Around the warrior's crest, and o'er the warrior's tomb !

LXII.

R may I give adventurous Fancy scope, And stretch a bold hand to the awful veil

That hides futurity from anxious hope, Bidding beyond it scenes of glory hail, And painting Europe rousing at the tale Of Spain's invaders from her confines hurl'd,

While kindling nations buckle on their mail,

And Fame, with clarion-blast and wings unfurl'd,

To Freedom and Revenge awakes an injured

World!

LXIII.

VAIN, though anxious, is the glance

I cast,

Since Fate has mark'd futurity her own: Yet Fate resigns to worth the glorious

past,

The deeds recorded, and the laurels won. Then, though the Vault of Destinyt be gone,

King, Prelate, all the phantasms of my brain,

Melted away like mist-wreaths in the sun, Yet grant for faith, for valour, and for Spain,

One note of pride and fire, a Patriot's parting

strain !

Back to the source, when tempestchafed, to hie?

Who, when Gascogne's vex'd gulf is raging wide,

Shall hush it as a nurse her infant's cry? His magic power let such vain boaster try, And when the torrent shall his voice obey,

And Biscay's whirlwinds list his lullaby, Let him stand forth and bar mine eagles'

way,

And they shall heed his voice, and at his bidding stay.

II.

LSE ne'er to stoop, till high on Lisbon's towers

They close their wings, the symbol of

our yoke,

And their own sea hath whelm'd yon redcross Powers!"

Thus, on the summit of Alverca's rock, To Marshal, Duke, and Peer, Gaul's Leader spoke.

While downward on the land his legions

press,

Before them it was rich with vine and flock, And smiled like Eden in her summer

dress ;

Behind their wasteful march a reeking wilder

ness.t

III.

ND shall the boastful Chief maintain

his word,

Though Heaven hath heard the wailings

of the land,

Though Lusitania whet her vengeful sword,