Part 14 (1/2)

Even the storm lulls to more profound repose; The storm these humble walls a.s.sails in vain.

The shrub is sheltered, when the whirlwind blows, While the oak's mighty ruin strows the plain.

Blow on, ye winds! Thine, Winter, be the skies; And toss the infuriate surge, and vales lay waste.

Nature thy temporary rage defies; To her relief the gentler Seasons haste.

Throned in her emerald car, see Spring appear!

(As Fancy wills, the landscape starts to view.) Her emerald car the youthful Zephyrs bear, Fanning her bosom with their pinions blue.

Around the jocund Hours are fluttering seen, And lo, her rod the rose-lip'd Power extends!

And lo, the lawns are decked in living green, And Beauty's bright-eyed train from Heaven descends!

Haste, happy days, and make all Nature glad---- But will all Nature joy at your return?

O, can ye cheer pale Sickness' gloomy bed, Or dry the tears that bathe the untimely urn?

Will ye one transient ray of gladness dart, Where groans the dungeon to the captive's wail?

To ease tired Disappointment's bleeding heart, Will all your stores of softening balm avail!

When stern Oppression, in his harpy fangs, From Want's weak grasp the last sad morsel bears, Can ye allay the dying parent's pangs, Whose infant craves relief with fruitless tears?

For ah! thy reign, Oppression, is not past.

Who from the s.h.i.+vering limbs the vestment rends?

Who lays the once rejoicing village waste, Bursting the ties of lovers and of friends!

But hope not, Muse, vain-glorious as thou art, With the weak impulse of thy humble strain, Hope not to soften Pride's obdurate heart, When ERROL's bright example s.h.i.+nes in vain.

Then cease the theme. Turn, Fancy, turn thine eye, Thy weeping eye, nor further urge thy flight.

Thy haunts, alas! no gleams of joy supply, Or transient gleams, that flash and sink in night.

Yet fain the mind its anguish would forego: Spread, then, Historic Muse, thy pictured scroll; Bid the great scenes in all their splendour glow, And rouse to thought sublime the exulting soul.

What mingling pomps rush on the enraptured gaze!

Lo, where the gallant navy rides the deep!

Here, glittering towns their spiry turrets raise, There, bulwarks overhang the s.h.a.ggy steep.

Bristling with spears, and bright with burnished s.h.i.+elds, The embattled legions stretch their long array; Discord's red torch, as fierce she scours the fields, With b.l.o.o.d.y tincture stains the face of day.

And now the hosts in silence wait the sign.

Keen are their looks whom Liberty inspires!

Quick as the G.o.ddess darts along the line, Each breast impatient burns with n.o.ble fires.

Her form how graceful! In her lofty mien The smiles of love stern Wisdom's frown controul; Her fearless eye, determined though serene, Speaks the great purpose, and the unconquered soul.

Mark, where Ambition leads the adverse band, Each feature fierce and hagard, as with pain!

With menace loud he cries, while from his hand He vainly strives to wipe the crimson stain.

Lo, at his call, impetuous as the storms, Headlong to deeds of death the hosts are driven; Hatred, to madness wrought, each face deforms, Mounts the black whirlwind, and involves the heaven.