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flow few could feel for what he had to bear!, He wants not this; but France shall feel lain his complaint,- my Lord presents his

the want bill,

Of this last consolation, though so scant ; His food and wine were doled out duly still: Her honour, fame, and faith, demand his Vain was his sickness,- never was a clime

bones, So free from homicide- to doubt's a crime; To rear above a pyramid of thrones; And the stiff Surgeon, who maintain’d bis Or, carried onward, in the battle’s van


To form, like Guesclin's dust, her talisman. Hath lost his place, and gain'd the world's But be it as it is, the time may come


His name shall beat the alarm like Ziska's But smile—though all the pangs of brain

drum. and heart Disdain, defy, the tardy aid of art; Though, save the few fond friends, and Oh, Heaven! of which he was in power imaged face

a feature ; Of that fair boy his sire shall ne'er embrace, Oh, Earth! of which he was a noble creature; None stand by his low bed-though even Thou Isle! to be remember'd long and well,

the mind

That sawst the unfledged eaglet chip his Be wavering, which long awed and awes

shell ! mankind;- Ye Alps, which view'd him in his dawning Smile-for the fetter'd Eagle breaks his

flights chain,

Hover, the victor of an hundred fights! And higher worlds than this are his again. Thou Rome, who sawst thy Cæsar's deeds


Alas ! why pass'd he too the Rubicon ? How, if that soaring Spirit still retain The Rubicon of man's awaken'd rights, A conscious twilight of his blazing reign, To herd with vulgar kings and parasites ? Now must he dinile, on looking down, to see Egypt! from whose all dateless tombs arose The little that he was and sought to be! Forgotten Pharaohs from their long repose, What though his name a wider empire found And shook within their pyramids to hear Than his ambition, though with scarce a A new Cambyses thundering in their ear;


While the dark shades of forty ages stood Though first in glory, deepest in reverse, Like startled giants by Nile's famous flood; He tasted empire's blessings and its curse; Or from the pyramid's tall pinnacle Though kings, rejoicing in their late escape Beheld the desert peopled, as from hell, From chains, would gladly be their tyrant's With clashing hosts, who strew'd the ape;

barren sand How must he smile, and turn to yon lone To re-manure the uncultivated land!


Spain! which, a moment mindless of the Cid, The proudest sea-mark that o'ertops the Beheld his banner flouting thy Madrid !


Austria! which saw thy twice-ta'en capital What though his jailor, duteous to the last, | Twice spared, to be the traitress of his fall! Scarce deem'd the coffin's lead could keep Ye race of Frederic!- Frederics but in name

him fast,

And falsehood - heirs to all except his fame; Refusing one poor line along the lid Who, crush'd at Jena, crouch'd at Berlin, fell To date the birth and death of all it hid, First, and but rose to follow ; ye who dwell That name shall hallow the ignoble shore, Where Kosciusko dwelt, remembering yet A talisman to all save him who bore : The unpaid amount of Catherine's bloody The fleets that sweep before the eastern blast

debt! Shall hear their sea-boys hail it from the Poland! o'er which the avenging angel mast:

pass’d, When Victory's Gallic column shall but rise, But left thee as he found thee, still a waste; Like Pompey's pillar, in a desert's skies,' Forgetting all thy still enduring claim, The rocky isle that holds or held his dust Thy lotted people and extinguish'd name; Shall crown the Atlantic like the hero's bust, Thy sigh for freedom, thy long-flowing tear, And mighty Nature o'er his obsequies That sound that crashes in the tyrant's ear; Do more than niggard Envy still denies. Kosciusko! on - on-on-the thirst of war But what are these to him Can glory's lust Gasps for the gore of serfs and of their Czar; Touch the free'd spirit or the fetter'd dust? The half-barbaric Moscow's minarets Small care hath he of what his tomb consists, Gleam in the sun, but 'tis a sun that sets! Nought if he sleeps_nor more if he exists: Moscow! thou limit of his long career, Alike the better-seeing Shade will smile For which rude Charles had wept his froOn the rude cavern of the rocky isle,

zen tear As if his ashes found their latest home To see in vain-he saw thee-how? with In Rome's Pantheon, or Gaul's mimic dome.


And palace fuel to one common fire. Which proves how fools may have their To this the soldier lent his kindling match,

fortune too, 1 To this the peasant gave his cottage-thatch, Won, half by blunder, half by treachery; To this the merchant flung his hoarded store, Oh, dull Saint-Helen! with thy jailor nighThe prince his hall - and, Moscow was no Hear! hear! Prometheus from his rock more!

appeal Sublimest of volcanoes! Etna's flame To earth, air, ocean, all that felt or feel Pales before thine, and quenchless Hecla's His power and glory, all who yet shall hear


A name eternal as the rolling year; Vesuvius shows his blaze, an usual sight He teaches them the lesson taught so long, For gaping tourists, from his hackney'a So oft, so vainly-learn to do no wrong!


A single step into the right had made Thou standst alone unrivallid till the fire This man the Washington of worlds beTo come, in which all empires shall expire.

tray'd ; Thou other element! as strong and stern A single step into the wrong has given To teach a lesson conquerors will not learn, His name a doubt to all the winds of Heaven; Whose icy wing flapp'd o'er the faltering foe, The reed of Fortune and of thrones the mod. Till fell a hero with each flake of snow; Of Fame the Moloch or the demi-god; How did thy numbing beak and silent fang His country's Cæsar, Europe's Hannibal, Pierce, till hosts perish'd with a single Without their decent dignity of fall.


Yet Vanity herself had better taught In vain shall Seine look up along his banks A surer path even to the fame he songht. For the gay thousands of his dashing ranks; By pointing out on history’s fruitless page In vain shall France recal beneath her vines Ten thousand conquerors for a single sage. Her youth-their blood flows faster than While Franklin's quiet memory climbs to her wines,

heaven. Or stagnant in their human ice remains Calming the lightning which he thence In frozen mummies on the Polar plains.

hath riven, In vain will Italy's broad sun awaken Or drawing from the no less kindled earth Her offspring chilld; its beams are now Freedom and peace to that which boasts his forsaken.

birth: Of all the trophies gather'd from the war, While Washington's a watch-word, such What shall return? The conqueror's broken


Shall sink while there's an echo left to air. The conqueror's yet unbroken heart! Again While even the Spaniard's thirst of gold The horn of Roland sounds, and not in vain.

and war Lutzen, where fell the Swede of victory, Forgets Pizarro to shout Bolivar! Beholds him conquer, but, alas! not die: Alas! why must the same Atlantic ware Dresden surveys three despots fly once more which wafted freedom gird a tyrant's Before their sovereign,-sovereign,as before;

graveBut there exhausted Fortune quits the field, The king of kings, and yet of slaves the And Leipsic's treason bids the unvanquish'd

slave, yield;

Who burst the chains of millions to rene The Saxon Jackal leaves the Lion's side The very fetters which his arm broke To turn the Bear's, and Wolf's, and Fox's

through, guide;

And crush'd the rights of Europe and his own And backward to the den of his despair To fit between a dungeon and a throne? The forest-monarch shrinks, but finds no lair! Oh ye! and each, and all! Oh, France!

who found

But 'twill not be, the spark's awaken'd, lo! Thy long fair fields plough'd up as hostile Theswarthy Spaniard feels his former glow


The same high spirit which beat back the Disputed foot by foot, till treason, still

Moor His only victor, from Montmartre's hill Through eight long ages of alternate gore Look'd down o'er trampled Paris; and thou, Revives--and where? in that avenging clime


Where Spain was once synonymous with Which seest Etruria from thy ramparts

crime, smile,

Where Cortes' and Pizarro's banner flev; Thou momentary shelter of his pride, The infant-world redeems her name of Till woo'd by danger, his yet weeping

“Neur." bride;

'Tis the old aspiration breathed afresh, Oh, France! retaken by a single march, To kindle souls within degraded flesh, Whose path was through one long triumphal Such as repulsed the Persian from the shore

Where Greece was- No! she still is Greece Oh, bloody and most bootless Waterloo,


once more.

as ne'er

their sway,

for aye,

One common cause makes myriads of one Holds back the invader from her soil again.


Not now the Roman tribe nor Punic horde Slaves of the East, or Helots of the West; Demand her fields as lists to prove the sword; On Andes' and on Athos' peaks unfurl'd, Not now the Vandal or the Visigoth The self-same standard streams o'er either Pollute the plains alike abhorring both;


Nor old Pelayo on his mountain rears The Athenian wears again Harmodius' The warlike fathers of a thousand years.

sword ;

That seed is sown and reap'd, as oft the Moor The Chili-chief abjures his foreign lord ; Sighs to remember on his dusky shore. The Spartan knows himself once more a Long in the peasant's song or poet's page

Greek ;

Has dwelt the memory of Abencerage, Young Freedom plumes the crest of each The Zegri, and the captive victors, flung


Back to the barbarous realm from whence Debating despots, hemm'd on either shore,

they sprung. Shriok vainly froin the roused Atlantic's But these are gone—their faith, their swords,

roar; Through Calpe's strait the rolling tides Yet left more anti-christian foes than they:


The bigot monarch and the butcher priest, Sweep slightly by the half-tamed land of The Inquisition, with her burning feast,


The Faith's red “auto,” fed with human fuel, Dash o'er the old Spaniard's cradle, and While sat the Catholic Moloch,calmly cruel,

would fain Enjoying, with inexorablc eye, l'nite Ausonia to the mighty main : That fiery festival of agony ! But driven from thence awhile, yet not The stern or feeble sovereign, one or both

By turns; the haughtiness whose pride was Break o'er th' Ægean, mindful of the day

sloth; Of Salamis—there, there, the waves arise, The long degenerate noble; the debased Not to be lull'd by tyrant-victories. Hidalgo, and the peasant less disgraced Lone, lost, abandon'd in their utmost need But more degraded; the unpeopled realm; By Christians nnto whom they gave their The once proud navy which forgot the helm;


The once impervious phalanx disarray'd; The desolated lands, the ravaged isle, The idle forge that form’d Toledo’s blade; The foster'd fead encouraged to beguile, The foreign wealth that flow'd on every The aid evaded, and the cold delay,

shore, Prolong'd but in the hope to make a prey;- Save hers who earn'd it with the natives? These, these shall tell the tale, and Greece

gore; can show

The very language, which might vie with The false friend worse than the infuriate foe.

Rome's, But this is well: Greeks only should free And once was known to nations like their Greece,

home's, Not the barbarian, with his mask of peace. Neglected or forgotten :-such was Spain; How should the Autocrat of Bondage be But such she is not, nor shall be again. The king of serfs, and set the

nations free? These worst,these home invaders, felt and feel Better still serve the haughty Mussulman, The new Numantine soul of old Castile. Than swell the Cossaque's prowling caravan; Up! up again! undaunted Tauridor! Better still toil for masters, than await,

The bull of Phalaris renews his roar; The slave of slaves, before a Russian gate,- Mount, chivalrous Hidalgo ! not in vain Number'd by hordes, a human capital, Revive the cry -- "lago! and close Spain!" A live estate, existing but for thrall, Yes, close her with your armed bosoms Lotted by thousands, as a meet reward

round, For the first courtier in the Czar's regard; And form the barrier which Napoleon | While their immediate owner never tastes

found, His sleep, sans dreaming of Siberia's wastes; The exterminating war; the desert plain; Better succumb even to their own despair, The streets without a tenant, save the slain; And drive the camel than parvey the bear. The wild Sierra, with its wilder troop

Of vulture-plumed Guerillas, on the stoop

For their incessant prey; the desperate wall But not alone within the hoariest clime, of Saragossa, mightiest in her fall; Where Freedom dates her birth with that The man nerved to a spirit, and the maid

of Time;

Waving her more than Amazonian blade; And not alone where, plunged in' night, a The knife of Arragon, Toledo's steel;


The famous lance of chivalrvus Castile; Of Incas darken to a dubious cloud, The unerring rifle of the Catalan; The dawn revives: renown'd, romantic The Andalusian courser in the van;


The torch to make a Moscow of Madrid ;


And in each heart the spirit of the Cid: - Thy good old man, whose world was all Such have been, such shall be, such are.

within Advance,

Thy wall, nor knew the country held him in: Aud win-not Spain, but thine own freedom, Would that the royal guests it girds about


Were so far like, as never to get out!
Ay, shout! inscribe! rear monuments of

shame, But lo! a Congress! What, that hallow'd To tell Oppression that the world is tame!

Crowd to the theatre with loyal rageWhich free'd the Atlantic? May we hope The comedy is not upon the stage;

the same

The show is rich in ribbonry and starsFor outworn Europe? With the sound arise, Then gaze upon it through thy dungeonLike Samuel's shade to Saul's monarchic

bars; eyes,

Clap thy permitted palms, kind Italy, The prophets of young Freedom, summond For thus much still thy fetter'd hands are far

free ! From climes of Washington and Bolivar; Henry, the forest-born Demosthenes, Whose thunder shook the Philip of the Resplendent sight! behold the coxcomb seas;

Czar, And stoic Franklin's energetic shade, The autocrat of waltzes and of war! Robed in the lightnings which his hand As eager for a plandit as a realm,

allay'd ;

And just as fit for flirting as the helm; And Washington, the tyrant-tamer, wake, A Calmuck beauty with a Cossack wil, To bid us blush for these old chains, or And generous spirit, when 'tis not frost-bit;


Now half dissolving to a liberal thaw, But Who compose this Senate of the few But harden'd back whene'er the morning That sbould redeem the many? W'ho renew

raw ; This consecrated name, till now assign'd With no objection to true liberty, To councils held to benefit mankind ? Except that it would make the nations free, Who now assemble at the holy call ?- How well the linperial Dandy prates of The bless'd Alliance, which says three are all!

peace, An earthly Trinity, which wears the shape How fain, if Greeks would be his slaves, Of Heaven's, as man is mimickd by the ape.

free Greece! A pious unity! in purpose one

How nobly gave he back the Poles their To melt three fools to a Napoleon.

Diet, Why, Egypt's gods were rational to these; Then told pngnacious Poland to be quiet! Their dogs and oxen knew their own degrees, How kindly would he send the mild Ukraine

, And, quiet in their kennel or their shed, With all her pleasant pulks, to lectare Spais

; Cared little, so that they were duly fed; How royally show off in proud Madrid But these, more hungry, must have some- His goodly person, from the South long thing more

hid, The power to bark and bite, to toss and gore. blessing cheaply purchased, the world Ah, how much happier were good Æsop's

knows, frogs

By having Muscovites for friends or foes. Than we! for ours are animated logs, Proceed, thou namesake of Great Philip'ssun! With ponderous malice swaying to and fro, La Harpe, thine Aristotle, beckons on ; And crushing nations with a stupid blow, And that which Scythia was to him of yere. All dully anxious to leave little work Find with thy Scythians on Iberia's shure. Unto the revolutionary stork.

Yet think upon, thou somewhat aged youth,
Thy predecessor on the banks of Pruth;

Thou hast to aid thee, should his lot be Thrice bless'd Verona! since the holy

thine, three

Many an old woman, but no Catherine. With their imperial presence shine on thee; Spain too hath rocks, and rivers, and defiles. Honour'd by them, thy treacherous sité The bear may rush into the lion's toils

. forgets

Fatal to Goths are Xeres' sunny fields; The vaunted tomb of “all the Capulets;” Thinkst thou to thee Napoleon's victor Thy Scaligers-for what was “Dog the


Better reclaim thy deserts, turn thy swords "Can'Grande” (which I venture to translate) To ploughshares, shave and wash thy BashTo these sublimer pugs? Thy poet too,

kir hordes, Catullus, whose old laurels yield to new; Redeem thy realms from slavery and the Thine amphitheatre, where Romans sate;

knout, And Dante's exile, shelter'd by thy gate;' Than follow headlong in the fatal route,

yields ?

prey ?

To Infest the clime, whose skies and laws | And love much rather to be scourged than are pure,

school'd? With thy foul legions. Spain wants no Ah! thine was not the temper or the taste


For thrones- the table sees thee better Her soil is fertile, but she feeds no foe;

placed : Her vultures, too, were gorged not long ago; A mild Epicurean, form’d, at best, And wouldst thou furnish them with fresher To be a kind host and as good a guest,

To talk of letters, and to know by heart Alas! thou wilt not conquer, but purvey. One half the poet's, all the gourmand's art; 4 am Diogenes, though Russ and Hun A scholar always, now and then a wit, Stand between mine and many a myriad's And gentle when digestion may permit

sun ;

But not to govern lands enslaved or free; But were I not Diogenes, I'd wander The gout was martyrdom enough for thee! Rather a worm than such an Alexander ! Be slaves who will, the Cynic shall be free, His tub hath tougher walls than Sinope: Shall noble Albion pass without a phrase Still will he hold his lanthorn up to scan From a bold Briton in her wonted praise ? The face of monarchs for an “honest man."| "Arts-arms, and George - and glory and

the isles

And happy. Britain-wealth and freedom's And what doth Gaul, the all-prolific land

smilesOf ne plus ultra Ultras and their band White cliffs, that held invasion far aloofOf mercenaries ? and her noisy Chambers Contented subjects, all alike tax-proof And Tribune, which each orator first Proud Wellington,with eagle-beak so curld,


That nose, the hook where he suspends the Before he finds a voice, and, when 'tis

world! found,

And Waterloo—and trade-and--(hush! Hears "the lie" echo for his answer round?

not yet Our British Commons sometimes deign to A syllable of imposts or of debt)-


And ne’er (enough) lamented Castlereagh, A Gallic Senate hath more tongue than ear; Whose pen-knife slit a goose-quill t'other Even Constant, their sole master of debate

dayMust fight next day, his speech to vindicate. And pilots who have weather'd every But this costs little to true Franks, who

storm had rather (But, no, not even for rhyme's sake, name Combat than listen, were it to their father.

reform).” What is the simple standing of a shot, These are the themes thus sung so oft To listening long, and interrupting not?

before, Though this was not the method of old Methinks we need not sing them any more;


Found in so many volumes far and near, When Tully fulmined o'er each vocal dome, There's no occasion you should find them Demosthenes has sanction'd the transaction,

here. In saying eloquence meant“Action, action!" Yet something may remain perchance to


With reason, and, what's stranger still, But where's the Monarch? hath he dined?

with rhyme; or yet

Even this thy genius, Canning! may permit, Groans beneath indigestion's heavy debt? Who, bred a statesman, still was born a wit, Have revolutionary patés risen,

And never, even in that dull house, couldst And turn'd the royal entrails to a prison ?

tame Have discontented movements stirr'd the To unleaven'd prose thine own poetic flame;

troops ?

Our last, our best, our only orator, Or have no movements follow'd traiterous Even I can praise thee - Tories do no more,

soups ?

Nay, not so much;—they hate thee, man, Have Carbonaro cooks not carbonadoed

because Each course enough? or doctors dire dis- Thy spirit less upholds them than it awes,


The hounds will gather to their huntsman's Repletion? Ah! in thy dejected looks

hollo, I read all-_'s treason in her cooks! And, where he leads, the duteous pack will Good classic -! is it, canst thou say,

follow; Desirable to be the "---?”

But not for love mistake their yelling cry, Why wouldst thou leave calm 's green Their yelp for game is not an eulogy;


Less faithful far than the four-footed pack, Apician table and Horatian ode,

A dubious scent would lure the bipeds back, To rule a people who will not be ruled, Thy saddle-girths are not yet quite secure

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