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Too seldom, if the righteous fight is won,
Rebellion boasts a Tell or Washington;
But if the champion of the People fail,
Foes only live to tell Misfortune's tale,
And meanness blots, while none to praise is nigh,
The hero's virtues, with a coward's lie.
To-night we bring, from his insulted grave,

A man too honest to become a slave:

How few admire him! few, perhaps, bewail'd!

He was a vulgar hero-for he fail'd:

Such glorious honours soothe the patriot's shade!

Of such materials History is made!

But had his followers triumph'd, where he fell

Fame would have hymn'd her village Hampden

well,

And Watt the Tyler been a William Tell.

SONG.

BRIGHT Word of God! that shin'st on high,
Beneath his footstool of the sky!

Thou say'st He made thee bright for all,
For rich and poor, for great and small;
And canst thou lie ?

Lo! on the prisoner's dungeon'd eye,
Cut off from heaven's warm blasonry,
Thy beams of glory cannot fall !
Yet say'st thou, light was made for all;
And dost thou lie?

The sons of Want and Labour sigh
For air, for light, and, poison'd, die!
Life is to them a funeral pall!

Yet say'st thou, light is bright for all;
O do not lie!

To thee the lark, the eagle cry,

The tiny wren, the little fly;

On thee the seas, the mountains call:

Thou say'st, God made thee bright for all,

And dost not lie.

CORONATION ODE.

WRITTEN FOR THE SHEFFIELD WORKING MEN'S ASSOCIATION.

VICTORIA, cypress-crown'd! thou good in vain! How the red wreath, with which thy name is bound

The page which tells the first deeds of thy reign, Black and blood-bloated-cheer the Calmuck hound,

Whose growl o'er Brunswick hails thee, cypresscrown'd!

Canada weeps and yet her dead are free!

Throned o'er their blood! who would not be a
Queen?

The Queen of new-made graves, who would not be ?
Of glory's royal flowers the loveliest seen!
So young! yet all that the deplored have been!

Here too, O Queen, thy woe-worn people feel
The load they bear is more than they can bear!
Beneath it twenty million workers reel !

While fifty thousand idlers rob and glare,

And mock the sufferings which they yet may share!

The drama soon will end. Four acts are past:

The curtain rises o'er embracing foes!

But each dark smiler hugs his dagger fast!

While Doom prepares his match, and waits the close!

Queen of the Earthquake! would'st thou win or

lose?

Still shall the Car of Juggernaut roll on,

O'er broken hearts and children born in vain, Banner'd with fire! while "thousand men as one " Sink down beneath its coward wheels of pain, That crush our souls, through crunching blood and brain!

Stop!-for to ruin Antoinette was led,

By men, who only when they died awoke! Base nobles who, o'er France vain darkness spread, And, goading her faint steeds with stroke on stroke, Loaded the wain-until the axles broke!

Stop!" for the blasting engine's iron Laws,”

Then saved not thrones from outraged Heav'n's control,

When hunger urged up to the cannon's jaws

A sea of men, with only one wild soul !
Hark! still I hear the echo of its roll!

VOL. II.

L

VERSES

ON THE OPENING OF THE SHEFFIELD AND ROTHERHAM

RAILWAY.

FORESTS!-thou river'd landscape wide !--
Beneath storm-threatening skies,*

I stand on war-mark'd Winco's side,
And see, with gladdened eyes,
Another triumph for mankind-
Another victory of mind

O'er man's worst enemies.

They come the shrieking steam ascends
Slow moves the banner'd train;

They rush the towering vapour bends-
The kindled wave again

Screams over thousands, thronging all

To witness now the funeral

Of law-created pain.

Behold it-Osgathorpe, behold!+
Look down, and cry "All hail!"

Skies! brighten into blue and gold,

O'er all the living vale!

The morning was clouded, but burst into sudden splendour over the rushing trains.

+ A beautiful eminence between Sheffield and Winco-bank, and, like the latter, overlooking a landscape of equal beauty.

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