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Now launch upon the foe
They yield,—they break,—they fly;
SPIRIT OF VENGEANCE ! rest :
Sweet MERCY cries, “ Forbear!"
Thus vanish BRITAIN's foes
From her consuming eye;
-those who die!
O'ershadowing laurels deck
Exulting o'er his lot,
DAUGHTERS OF ALBION ! weep;
and freedom slain,
O gently close the
eye That loved to look on you ; O seal the lip whose earliest sigh,
Whose latest breath was true :
With knots of sweetest flowers
Their winding-sheet perfume ;
For beautiful in death
The WARRIOR's corse appears,
Embalm’d by fond AFFECTION's breath,
-Give me the death of those
Who for their country die ;
Their loveliest mother Earth
THE VIGIL OF ST MARK.
RETURNING from their evening walk,
On yonder ancient stile,
Two lovers paused awhile :
EDMUND, the monarch of the dale,
All-conscious of his powers ; ELLA, the lily of the vale,
The rose of AUBURN's bowers !
In airy Love's delightful bands
He held her heart in vain ; The Nymph denied her willing hands
To HYMEN's awful chain.
“ Ah! why,” said he, our bliss delay!
“ Mine Ella! why so cold ? “ Those who but love from day to day,
“ From day to day grow old.
“ The bounding arrow cleaves the sky,
- Nor leaves a trace behind; “ And single lives like arrows fly,
- They vanish thro' the wind.
“ In wedlock's sweet endearing lot
“ Let us improve the scene, “ That some may be, when we are not,
“ To tell—that we have been."
“ 'Tis now,” replied the village Belle,
“ Saint Mark's mysterious eve;