Felicia Hemans

“ When Prussia, drooping o'er her hero's grave,
Invoked his spirit to descend and save;
Then set her glories—then expired her sun,
And fraud achieved e'en more than conquest won!
O'er peaceful realms, that smiled with plenty gay,
Has desolation spread her ample sway;
Thy blast, O Ruin! on tremendous wings,
Has proudly swept o'er empires, nations, kings.
Thus the wild hurricane's impetuous force
With dark destruction marks its whelming course,
Despoils the woodland's pomp, the blooming plain,
Death on its pinion, vengeance in its train!
—Rise, Freedom, rise! ”

“ Those times are fled, when fair Iberia's clime
Beheld thy Gothic reign, thy pomp sublime;
And all thy glories, all thy deeds of yore,
Live but in legends wild, and poet's lore.
Lo! where thy silent harp neglected lies,
Light o'er its chords the murmuring zephyr sighs;
Thy solemn courts, where once the minstrel sung,
The choral voice of mirth and music rung;
Now, with the ivy clad, forsaken, lone,
Hear but the breeze and echo to its moan:
Thy lonely towers deserted fall away,
Thy broken shield is mouldering in decay. ”

“ Call from the sun, her burning throne on high,
The seraph Ecstasy, with lightning eye;
Steal from the source of day empyreal fire,
And breathe the soul of rapture o'er the lyre!
Hail, Albion! hail, thou land of freedom’s birth!
Pride of the main, and Phoenix of the earth!
Thou second Rome, where mercy, justice, dwell
Whose sons in wisdom as in arms excel!
Thine are the dauntless bands, like Spartans brave,
Bold in the field, triumphant on the wave ”

“ Imperial Charles! to mark thy prosperous age
Those golden days of arts and fancy bright,
When Science pour'd her mild, refulgent light;
When Painting bade the glowing canvass breathe
Creative Sculpture claim'd the living wreath;
When roved the Muses in Ausonian bowers,
Weaving immortal crowns of fairest flowers;
When angel-truth dispersed, with beam divine,
The clouds that veil'd religion's hallow'd shrine
Those golden days beheld Iberia tower
High on the pyramid of fame and power;
Vain all the efforts of her numerous foes,
Her might, superior still, triumphant rose. ”

“ Stream'd o'er the smiling land in long array,
Though tyrant Asia pour'd unnumber'd foes,
Triumphant still the arm of Greece arose;—
For every state in sacred union stood,
Strong to repel invasion's whelming flood;
Each heart was glowing in the general cause,
Each hand prepared to guard their hallow’d laws;
Athenian valour join'd Laconia's might,
And but contended to be first in fight;
From rank to rank the warm contagion ran,
And Hope and Freedom led the flaming van.
Then Persia's monarch mourn'd his glories lost,
As wild confusion wing'd his flying host ”

“ Is there no bard of heavenly power possess'd
To thrill, to rouse, to animate the breast?
Like Shakspeare o'er the secret mind to sway,
And call each wayward passion to obey?
Is there no bard, imbued with hallow'd fire,
To wake the chords of Ossian's magic lyre;
Whose numbers breathing all his flame divine,
The patriot's name to ages might consign?
Rise, Inspiration! rise! be this thy theme,
And mount, like Uriel, on the golden beam! ”

“ Thy car of sapphire through the realms of air:
With accents milder than Æolian lays,
When o'er the harp the fanning zephyr plays,
Be thine to charm the raging world to rest,
Diffusing round the heaven that glows within thy breast!
O Thou! whose fiat lulls the storm asleep!
Thou, at whose nod subsides the rolling deep!
Whose awful word restrains the whirlwind's force,
And stays the thunder in its vengeful course;
Fountain of life! Omnipotent Supreme!
Robed in perfection! crown'd with glory's beam! ”

“ With arm of might assert thy sacred cause,
And call thy champions to defend thy laws!
How long shall tyrant power her throne maintain?
How long shall despots and usurpers reign?
Is honour's lofty soul for ever fled!
Is virtue lost? is martial ardour dead!
Is there no heart where worth and valour dwell,
No patriot Wallace, no undaunted Tell? ”

“ Transcendant light their hallow'd fane illume;
Bid war and anarchy for ever cease,
And kindred seraphs rear the shrine of Peace;
Brothers once more, let men her empire own,
And realms and monarchs bend before the throne,
While circling rays of angel-mercy shed
Eternal haloes round her sainted head! ”

“ Smiled undismay'd within the arms of death,
While Victory, weeping nigh, received his breath!
O thou, the sovereign of the noble soul!
Thou source of energies beyond control!
Queen of the lofty thought, the generous deed,
Whose sons unconquer’d fight, undaunted bleed,—
Inspiring Liberty! thy worshipp'd name
The warm enthusiast kindles to a flame ”

“ Descend once more! to bid the world rejoice—
Let nations hail thee with exulting voice,
Around thy shrine with purest incense throng,
Weave the fresh palm, and swell the choral song!
Then shall the shepherd's flute, the woodland reed,
The martial clarion and the drum succeed ”

“ And round thy brows a deathless wreath combine:
Not Mincio's banks, nor Meles' classic tide,
Are hallow'd more than Avon's haunted side;
Nor is thy Thames a less inspiring theme
Than pure Ilissus, or than Tiber's stream.
Bright in the annals of th' impartial page,
Britannia's heroes live from age to age!
From ancient days, when dwelt her savage race,
Her painted natives, foremost in the chase,
Free from all cares for luxury or gain,
Lords of the wood and monarchs of the plain;
To these Augustan days, when social arts
Refine and meliorate her manly hearts ”