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ODE TO LIBERTY.

STROPHE.

WHO shall awake the Spartan fife,

And call in solemn sounds to life

The youths, whose locks divinely spreading,
Like vernal hyacinths in sullen hue,

At once the breath of fear and virtue shedding,

Applauding Freedom lov'd of old to view?

What new Alcæus, fancy-blest,

Shall sing the sword, in myrtles drest,

At Wisdom's shrine awhile its flame concealing,

(What place so fit to seal a deed renown'd?)

Till she her brightest lightnings round revealing,

It leap'd in glory forth, and dealt her prompted

wound!

E 2

O Goddess! in that feeling hour,

When most its sounds would court thy ears,

Let not my shell's misguided power

E'er draw thy sad, thy mindful tears.

T

No, Freedom! no, I will not tell,

How Rome, before thy weeping face,

With heaviest sound, a giant statue, fell,

Push'd by a wild and artless race,

From off its wide ambitious base,

When Time his northern sons of spoil awoke,

And all the blended work of strength and grace,

With many a rude repeated stroke,

And many a barbarous yell, to thousand fragments

broke!

EPODE 1.

Yet even, where'er the least appear'd,

Th' admiring world thy hand rever'd:

Still, 'midst the scatter'd states around,

Some remnants of her strength were found;

They saw, by what escap'd the storm,

How wondrous rose her perfect form,

How in the great, the labour'd whole,

Each mighty master pour'd his soul;

For sunny Florence, seat of art,

Beneath her vines preserv'd a part.

Till they, whom Science lov'd to name,

(Oh! who could fear it?) quench'd her flame.

And lo, an humbler relic laid

In jealous Pisa's olive shade!

See small Marino joins the theme,

Tho' least, not last in thy esteem;

Strike, louder strike th' ennobling strings

To those, whose merchant-sons were kings;

To him, who deck'd with pearly pride,

In Adria weds his green-hair'd bride:

Hail, port of glory, wealth, and pleasure!

Ne'er let me change this Lydian measure :
Nor e'er her former pride relate,

To sad Liguria's bleeding state.

Ah, no! more pleas'd thy haunts I seek,

On wild Helvetia's mountains bleak:

(Where, when the favour'd of thy choice,

The daring archer heard thy voice;

Forth from his eyrie rous'd in dread,

The ravening eagle northward fled.)

Or dwell in willow'd meads more near,

With those to whom thy Stork is dear:

* The Dutch, amongst whom there are very severe penalties for those who are convicted of killing this bird. They are kept tame in almost all their towns, and particularly at the Hague; of the arms of which they make a part. The common

Those whom the rod of Alva bruis'd,

Whose crown a British queen refus'd,

The magic works, thou feel'st the strains,

One holier name alone remains;

The perfect spell shall then avail,

Hail Nymph! ador'd by Britain, hail!

ANTISTROPHE.

Beyond the measure vast of thought,

The works, the wizard Time has wrought!

The Gaul, 'tis held of antique story,

Saw Britain link'd to his now adverse strand,*

No sea between, nor cliff sublime and hoary, He pass'd with unwet feet thro' all our land.

people of Holland are said to entertain a superstitious sentiment, that if the whole species of them should become extinct, they should lose their liberties.

* This tradition is mentioned by several of our old historians. Some naturalists too have endeavoured to support the probability of the fact, by arguments drawn from the corres pondent disposition of the two opposite coasts.

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