"Now should they burst on thy devoted coast,

Go, ask thy bosom, who deserves them most? "The law of heaven and earth is life for life; "And she who raised in vain regrets the strife." London, 1812.

ODE.

Он, shame to thee, Land of the Gaul!
Oh, shame to thy children and thee!
Unwise in thy glory, and base in thy fall,
How wretched thy portion shall be !
Derision shall 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 hurl'd
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, 'tis trampled in dust!

Go look through 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. time

A proverb, a bye-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 t' insult, the first to betray!

Forgot were the feats he had done,

The toils he had borne in thy cause;

Thou turned'st to worship a new rising sun,
And waft other songs of applause.

But the storm was beginning to lower,

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

What tumult thus burthens the air?

What throng thus encircles his throne?

'Tis the shout of delight, 'tis the millions that swear His sceptre shall rule them alone. Reverses shall brighten their zeal,

Misfortune shall hallow his name,

And the world that pursues him shall mournfully feel

How quenchless the spirit and flame

That Frenchmen will breathe, when their hearts are on fire,

For the hero they love, and the chief they admire!

Their hero has rush'd to the field;

His laurels are cover'd with shade

But where is the spirit that never should yield,

The loyalty never to fade?

In a moment desertion and guile

Abandon'd him up to the foe;

The dastards that flourish'd and grew in his smile, Forsook and renounced him in woe;

And the millions that swore they would perish to

save,

Beheld him a fugitive, captive, and slave!

The savage all wild in his glen

Is nobler and better than thou;
Thou standest a wonder, a marvel to men,
Such perfidy blackens thy brow!

If thou wert the place of my birth,

At once from thy arms would I sever;
I'd fly to the uttermost parts of the earth,

And quit thee for ever and ever;
And thinking of thee in my long after-years,
Should but kindle my blushes and waken my

Oh, shame to thee, Land of the Gaul! Oh, shame to thy children and thee! Unwise in thy glory, and base in thy fall,

How wretched thy portion shall be!

tears.