And thus while 'round the various accents broke,
In louder tone a lip of sorrow spoke.

"Farewell! for ever now farewell,

"Where my fond soul once joy'd to rove!
"Ye fields! where gentlest pleasures dwell,
"And O ye seats of happiest Love!
"Each genial grove, each haunted stream
"Nurse of my song, and of my song the theme,
"Farewell!-O ye no more are mine,
"The tort'ring chains your ruin'd Lord confine!

"No more with free step shall I tread
"The smooth Savannah's velvet green;
"The Loves and Pleasures all are fled
"That bore me to the blissful scene.
"All, all are fled! oh sad and heavy loss!
"And Zara weeps, unpitied and unknown;
"Shall tears and griefs my Zara's soul engross?
"O she was form'd for love and love alone.

"Now haply shall the dear maid roam,
"Her check distain'd with many a tear,
"That cheek where Beauty's choicest bloom
"Lent lustre to the soul sincere.

"She now shall roam, dear mindful maid,

"The lone vales wild, the dreary woods among,
"And court, with sorrowing step, the deepest shade;
"Or at the ev'ning hour,
"Beneath the cypress bow'r,

"Pour, all reclin'd, her sweetest saddest song;
"And there to weeping maids relate
"The mournful stories of our fate:

"But ah, no art shall move her stubborn grief,

"The maids shall tell-but vain the tried relief

"How oft in yonder wood

My hand the shaggy forms subdued;
"Or in the wild waves nigh

46 My little bark outbray'd the angry sky; "And she herself, the sorrowing Nymph, shall tell "How oft beneath mine arm have bled "The savage troop, and how the warrior fell, "And join'd with yelling groan the nations of the dead. "But hence the light and trifling strain! "The listless voice of praise how vain!

"For now what boots it that my martial care "Form'd her brave youths, and gave them to the war? "What boots it now? for me remains

"A death inglorious, or the servile chains,

"Me, who can boast my spear

"Fix'd Malgru to his fate, and fill'd his sons with fear.

"And shall not the big sounds of war again

"Wake my fond heart, and shall my spear
Leap to new life no more? Must dull Despair
"Waste my sad length of hours away,
"Shut from the eye of Pleasure and the Day?
"Perish the thought, or to the wretch remove
"That dreams away the soul of life in vain!
"Whose heart ne'er felt the luxury of Love,
"Nor fear'd of Infamy the pain.

"O cursed, cursed hour! when first my spear
"Fell faithless to its Lord. O cursed hour!
"When Vict'ry's spirit, hov'ring near,
"Fled from my call, and the sad courted power.
"Of Death, unheedful to my cry,

"Lowr'd stern a sullen frown, and pass'd contemp

"tuous by.

"Still let my foes encrease the galling chain,

"The warrior's soul unfetter'd shall remain,

"Smile at each wound, each torture calmly bear, "And only curse the cruel chance of war: "Now let them lead me to the fires of fate, "Where round, in horrid shew, the furies wait, "No lab'ring sigh my secret pain shall speak, "No stealing tear disgrace my manlier cheek; "Forbad to conquer, and forbad to bleed,

"I ask but Death, and court no other meed.

The warrior ceas'd-the Lord of Light again
Stretch'd his proud ray along th' empurpled plain:
Fell the sad sounds, tho' still to Pity's ear

The murmuring winds the sorrowing accents bear;
There the Muse caught her artless strains of woe,
And bade them still in native measures flow;
And there, tho' fate the warrior's brow had crown'd
With baleful leaves, and wreath'd her cypress round,
Firm to herself, and steady to the truth,

The Muse, impartial, bless'd the hapless youth;
She bade his name with their's inscrib'd to lie,

That lov'd with Fame to live, that dar'd with Glory die.

HARK to the loud and dismal sound!
That bursting from the glooms around,
Scattering wide the saddest fear,

Assaults, in troubled cry, the startling ear!
And now each short but dreary pause between,
From the deep bosom of the silent shade
What spiry flames with frequent force are seen,
Flashing their liveliest horrors on the glade?

O say! what rude and clamorous breath
Rent with mad shriek the neighbouring sky?
What fiery columns, flaming high,
Enrich the radiant air with deadly state?
Ah me! it was the voice of Death,
It is the fire of Fate.

Some hapless youth, whom Glory never led,
By Fortune's smile, and Victory's palm unblest,
Yet one who scorn'd the flow'ry bed of rest,
A warrior youth, that lov'd to tread
With firm foot on th' embattled plain
The bloody dews of War, whom cruel Fate
Averse beheld, nor with the sainted slain,
Nor yet with those whose happier heads await
The conqu'ring wreaths, enroll'd his mighty name,
By laurel'd Death unown'd, and living Fame :
Him, hapless youth, has dire Defeat

Borne captive to her drear retreat,

And now while Vengeance, with remorseless hand,
Leads the lost wretch amid' the torturing band,
(Nor yet shall pains the secret spirit bare)
A fallen victim to the chance of war,
Such his sad fate, and so the Gods require,

He mounts with step unforc'd the deadly fire.

But hark! again the mingled sound
Of shouts and shrieks around,

Hollow and fearful echoes through the vale;
And ah! amid the ling'ring cry,
Where 'round the griesly chiefs in triumph lie,
Hear how, in awful voice, the destin'd head

To the sad pyre by funeral Passions led,

Pours long its dying sound, and loads the passing gale..

"Ye conquering chiefs! ye leaders of your train! "Who as ye lie, embath'd in bliss along, "Mark with exulting eye our warriors slain, "To you I call-O hear th' indignant song! "What tho' by happier chance, or by the pow'r "Of kinder Gods that bless your genial skies, "Ye boast the victories of the present hour "Have giv❜n you to the noblest heights of fame, "Some vengeful and some bloody morn shall rise, "And sink you low again to death, defeat, and shame.

"Then, O my spirit! wand'ring blest around, "Point thou the shaft, and aid the fatal blow, "Then fix, with joy, the deep inglorious wound "That marks, with baser scar, the abject foe! "O then be thine the pleasurable sound, "The yell of battle, and the murderous cry, "The forc'd dull groans of Death, and shrieks of Agony!

"Nor boast, proud Chiefs! a fated victory won
"By forms unseen, and virtues not your own!
"No aid I ask'd, and now no loss deplore,
"Firm, from myself, I call the generous store,
"The sense inflexible to pain,

"The mighty mind, impatient of controul,
"The stern resolve, the fix'd disdain,

"And all the manlier powers that feed a warrior's soul.

"And say, ye fathers of the fight!

"Ye whose high bosoms labour'd for the deed, Say, saw ye not amid' the battle bleed "Your sons of prowess, and your chiefs of might? "Say, felt not then your ranks unusual fear, "While your arm'd nations crowded on the plain,