"No, never shall my eye-lids sleep, "But a long weary Vigil keep, "Till Vengeance, with her sword of fire, "Shall bid the caitiff wretch expire, "That dar'd with flame unholy move "And win a warrior's destin'd Love. "And she, the perjur'd Nymph, shall feel, "Howe'er she force the tear to flow, "Howe'er in artful guise she veil "Her alter'd faith and broken vow, "That stubborn Justice holds secure "The heart from Beauty's witching lure, "And arms the hand in awful state, "Th' avenging Minister of Fate. "And hear, ye Matron-Spirits, hear! "O by your chastest Loves I swear, "That she shall mount the lustral fame, "Dishonour to her mother's name. "But can that Maid of artless mien, "Of open front, and soul serene, "So mild, so gentle, and so young, "Can she deceive, whose raptur'd ear "So joy'd my simple tale to hear, "Then bless'd the magic of my tongue? "But Love was all the magic there, "In thoughtless words of passion drest "My tale could please the peerless fair, "And win admission to her breast. "Can she, whose heart alone could beat "To Pleasure pure, and genuine Love, "By studied arts of forc'd Deceit "Inconstant, faithless, perjur'd prove? "No, never shall the thought unkind "In all the pride and bloom of youth, 66 By every stream, by every grove, "Of broken vows unkind complain, 66 May fondly wish, in glad return, "By laughing hours and pleasures borne, "That now the Nymph would haste to wear "(It was her Moluck's hand that wove) More had he sung, but from the neighb'ring glade, THE WAR SONG. ODE IV. WHEN shall break, ye ye Sons of War, The long sleep of the battle-bow? When shall your jav'lins give to flow Curst, and unburnt upon their native plain ? Now by the plumed head no more Scowl with their baleful pinions on our shore, And from her vengeful bow, With many a fatal blow, Flung swift th' envenom'd shaft where Oglu's champions stood. The Indians, in a manner similar to the Romans, believe in good and evil Genii.They have their Angels to protect, and their Dæmons and Giants to molest them. But they are all in subjection to their three superior Deities. There then we saw, with surest feet, Of those, whom Fate refus'd to lead Warriors, and Priests, and bards belov'd of Heav'n) And the thin notes that float upon the air. Rush forth, and strike with thrilling dread To deal the destinies around From the long Jav'lin, and the bounding bow, While Shame pursues them close, and waves her bloody vest. VOL. VI, * See the Song of Defeat and Captivity. cc Such are the forms that fleet before mine eyes; They beckon to the war, And lead our hero-troop where Freedom lies: That 'round our warriors wait, And swell the beating heart, and arm the desperate hand. "Heroes! ye who lately trod, "Call aloud, in solemn sound, "Revenge; revenge the hoarser echos 'round "Redouble quick in martial mood. "Arise! where once your fathers stood, "And from many a warrior-row "Flung the spear, and bent the bow. "The souls of War and Vengeance to the meed "Bravely fight and nobly die, "Such shall escape the shadowy realms of Night, "Shall live in Rutren's Hall, and breathe a better sky. "But you, to whom your fate shall give Again to fight, again to live, "Shall deeply drink your Country's praise; "And ev'ry sainted Bramin 'round, "In words of more than mortal sound, "Shall deck each honour'd name with hallow'd lays. |