The orb of day in crimson dye Began to mount the morning sky, Then what a scene for warrior's eye The serried bay'nets glittering stood, An aerial stream, a silver wood, Reel'd in the flickering canopy. Like waves of ocean rolling fast, Or thunder-cloud before the blast, Massena's legions, stern and vast, Rush'd to the dreadful revelry. The pause is o'er, the fateful shock, Light boil'd the war-cloud to the sky, Prone on the battle's boundary. The thistle waved her bonnet blue, The harp her wildest war-notes threw, The red rose gain'd a fresher hue, Busaco, in thy heraldry! Hail, gallant brothers! woe befall Arouses at thy chivalry! ODE TO THE GENIUS OF SHAKSPEARE. SPIRIT all limitless, Where is thy dwelling place, Spirit of him whose high name we revere ? Come on thy seraph wings Come from thy wanderings, And smile on thy votaries who sigh for thee here! Whether thou journey'st far On by the morning star, Dream'st in the shadowy brows of the moon; Or linger'st in fairyland Mid lovely elves to stand, Singing thy carols all lightsome and boon; ODE TO THE GENIUS OF SHAKSPEARE. 305 Whether thou tremblest o'er Green grave of Elsinore, Stay'st o'er the hill of Dunsinnan to hover, Bosworth or Shrewsbury, Egypt or Philippi, Come from thy roamings the universe over! Come, O thou spark divine, Rise from thy hallow'd shrine ! Here in the vales of the north thou shalt see, Spirits congenial, Proud of their country, yet bowing to thee. Here thou art call'd upon, Come thou to Caledon, Come to the land of the ardent and free The land of the lone recess, Mountain and wilderness, This is the land, thou wild meteor, for thee! U |