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When duty bids you bleed in open war:
Hence hath your prowess quelled that impious

crew.
Heroes !—for instant sacrifice prepared;
Yet filled with ardour and on triumph bent 10
'Mid direst shocks of mortal accident—
To you who fell, and you whom slaughter

spared To guard the fallen, and consummate the event, Your Country rears this sacred Monument!

XLII.

SIEGE OF VIENNA RAISED BY JOHN SOBIESKI.

FEBRUARY, 1816.

O, For a kindling touch from that pure flame
Which ministered, ere while, to a sacrifice
Of gratitude, beneath Italian skies,
In words like these: "Up, Voice of song!

proclaim Thy saintly rapture with celestial aim: 5

For lo! the Imperial City stands released From bondage threatened by the embattled

East, And Christendom respires; from guilt and

shame Redeemed, from miserable fear set free By one day's feat, one mighty victory. 10

—Chant the Deliverer's praise in every tongue! The Cross shall spread, the Crescent hath waxed

dim; He conquering, as in joyful Heaven is sung, He Conquering Through God, And G-od By

Him."'

1 See Filicaia's Ode.

XLIII.

OCCASIONED BY THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO.
FEBRUARY, 1816.

The Bard—whose soul is meek as dawning day,
Yet trained to judgments righteously severe,
Fervid, yet conversant with holy fear,
As recognising one Almighty sway:
He—whose experienced eye can pierce the array
Of past events; to whom, in vision clear, 6
The aspiring heads of future things appear,
Like mountain-tops whose mists have rolled

away—.
Assoiled from all encumbrance of our time,1
He only, if such breathe, in strains devout 10
Shall comprehend this victory sublime;
Shall worthily rehearse the hideous rout,
The triumph hail, which from their peaceful

clime Angels might welcome with a choral shout!

Emperors and Kings, how oft have temples

rung "With impious thanksgiving, the Almighty's

scorn! How oft above their altars have been hung Trophies that led the good and wise to mourn Triumphant wrong, battle of battle born, 5 And sorrow that to fruitless sorrow clung! Now, from Heaven-sanctioned victory, Peace is

sprung; In this firm hour Salvation lifts her horn.

1 "From all this world's encumhrance did himself assoiI."—Spenser,

Glory to arms! But, conscious that the nerve Of popular reason, long mistrusted, freed 10 Your thrones, ye Powers, from duty fear to

swerve! Be just, be grateful; nor, the oppressor's creed Reviving, heavier chastisement deserve Than ever forced unpitied hearts to bleed.

1816. (?)

XLV.

ODE.
1815.

i.

Imagination—7ne'er before content,
But aye ascending, restless in her pride
From all that martial feats could yield
To her desires, or to her hopes present—
Stooped to the Victory on that Belgic field 5
Achieved, this closing deed magnificent,
And with the embrace was satisfied.
.—Fly, ministers of Fame,
With every help that ye from earth and heaven

may claim! Bear through the world these tidings of delight! 10

—Hours, Days, and Months, have borne them

in the sight Of mortals, hurrying like a sudden shower That land-ward stretches from the sea, The morning's splendours to devour; But this swift travel scorns the company 15 Of irksome change, or threats from saddening power. —The shock is giventhe Adversaries bleedLo, Justice triumphs! Earth is freed!

Joyful annunciation !—it went forth—

It pierced the caverns of the sluggish North— 20

It found no barrier on the ridge Of Andes—frozen gulfs became its bridge— The vast Pacific gladdens with the freight— Upon the Lakes of Asia 'tis bestowed— The Arabian desert shapes a willing road 25

Across her burning breast, For this refreshing incense from the West!—

—Where snakes and lions breed, Where towns and cities thick as stars appear, Wherever fruits are gathered, and where'er 30 The upturned soil receives the hopeful seed— While the Sun rules, and cross the shades of

night— The unwearied arrow hath pursued its flight! The eyes of good men thankfully give heed,

And in its sparkling progress read 35 Of virtue crowned with glory's deathless meed: Tyrants exult to hear of kingdoms won, And slaves are pleased to learn that mighty

feats are done; Even the proud Realm, from whose distracted

borders This messenger of good was launched in air, 40 France, humbled France, amid her wild disorders, Feels, and hereafter shall the truth declare, That she too lacks not reason to rejoice, And utter England's name with sadly-plausive

voice.

11. O genuine glory, pure renown! 4 5

And well might it beseem that mighty Town Into whose bosom earth's best treasures flow, To whom all persecuted men retreat;

If a new Temple lift her votive brow
High on the shore of silver Thames—to greet 50
The peaceful guest advancing from afar.
Bright be the Fabric, as a star
Fresh risen, and beautiful within!—there meet
Dependence infinite, proportion just;
A Pile that Grace approves, and Time can
trust 55

With his most sacred wealth, heroic dust.

in. But if the valiant of this land In reverential modesty demand, That all observance, due to them, be paid Where their serene progenitors are laid; 60 Kings, warriors, high-souled poets, saint-like

sages,
England's illustrious sons of long, long ages;
Be it not unordained that solemn rites,
Within the circuit of those Gothic walls,
Shall be performed at pregnant intervals; 65
Commemoration holy that unites
The living generations with the dead;
By the deep soul-moving sense
Of religious eloquence,—
By visual pomp, and by the tie 70

Of sweet and threatening harmony;
Soft notes, awful as the omen
Of destructive tempests coming,
And escaping from that sadness
Into elevated gladness; 75

While the white-robed choir attendant, Under mouldering banners pendant, Provoke all potent symphonies to raise

Songs of victory and praise, For them who bravely stood unhurt, or bled 80 With medicable wounds, or found their graves

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