Part 476 (1/2)
Brethren, thus in rapture meeting, Send ye round the br.i.m.m.i.n.g cup,-- Yonder kindly spirit greeting, While the foam to heaven mounts up!
CHORUS.
He whom seraphs wors.h.i.+p ever; Whom the stars praise as they roll, Yes to him now drain the bowl Mortal eye can see him never!
Courage, ne'er by sorrow broken!
Aid where tears of virtue flow; Faith to keep each promise spoken!
Truth alike to friend and foe!
'Neath kings' frowns a manly spirit!-- Brethren, n.o.ble is the prize-- Honor due to every merit!
Death to all the brood of lies!
CHORUS.
Draw the sacred circle closer!
By this bright wine plight your troth To be faithful to your oath!
Swear it by the Star-Disposer!
Safety from the tyrant's power! [9]
Mercy e'en to traitors base!
Hope in death's last solemn hour!
Pardon when before His face!
Lo, the dead shall rise to heaven!
Brethren hail the blest decree; Every sin shall be forgiven, h.e.l.l forever cease to be!
CHORUS.
When the golden bowl is broken, Gentle sleep within the tomb!
Brethren, may a gracious doom By the Judge of man be spoken!
THE INVINCIBLE ARMADA.
She comes, she comes--the burden of the deeps!
Beneath her wails the universal sea!
With clanking chains and a new G.o.d, she sweeps, And with a thousand thunders, unto thee!
The ocean-castles and the floating hosts-- Ne'er on their like looked the wild water!--Well May man the monster name ”Invincible.”
O'er shuddering waves she gathers to thy coasts!
The horror that she spreads can claim Just t.i.tle to her haughty name.
The trembling Neptune quails Under the silent and majestic forms; The doom of worlds in those dark sails;-- Near and more near they sweep! and slumber all the storms!
Before thee, the array, Blest island, empress of the sea!
The sea-born squadrons threaten thee, And thy great heart, Britannia!
Woe to thy people, of their freedom proud-- She rests, a thunder heavy in its cloud!
Who, to thy hand the orb and sceptre gave, That thou should'st be the sovereign of the nations?
To tyrant kings thou wert thyself the slave, Till freedom dug from law its deep foundations; The mighty Chart the citizens made kings, And kings to citizens sublimely bowed!
And thou thyself, upon thy realm of water, Hast thou not rendered millions up to slaughter, When thy s.h.i.+ps brought upon their sailing wings The sceptre--and the shroud?
What should'st thou thank?--Blush, earth, to hear and feel What should'st thou thank?--Thy genius and thy steel!