English

Lift up our country's banner high,
And fling abroad its gorgeous sheen,
Unrol its stripes upon the sky,
And let its lovely stars be seen!
Blood — blood is on its spangled fold!
Yet from the battle comes it not;
But all the waters oceans hold
Cannot wash out the guilty spot.

Up, freemen! up; determine, do
What Justice claims, what freemen may;
What frowning heav'n demands of you,
While yet its mutt'ring thunders stay: —
That ye, forever from this soil,
Bid S LAVERY'S with'ring blight depart,

Where shade was once, the dead oak lies in state
and will no longer with the whirlwinds sway.
And now they say: Behold, the tree was great!

Still, here and there, up in the tree-top stay
the little bird's-nests that the springtimes leave.
Behold, the tree was good! the people say.

Each one commends and each one cuts. At eve
each goes away with heavy bundle bound.
In the air a plaint. . . . I hear a black-cap grieve,

that's looking for a nest, she'll ne'er have found.

A PASTORAL .

IN THE MANNER OF CUNNINGHAM .

See! rob'd in new beauties, young May cheers the lawn!
Ye virgins! how charming her air,
Haste! cull her fresh flow'rets dew drooping at dawn,
And chaplets entwine for your hair!
Yes! weave the gay garland! each moment improve!
Youth's pleasures, like Spring, fleet away!
Life has its soft season — that season is Love .

SENT TO MISS D. OF LINSTED, WITH A WHIP MADE OF A RHINOCEROS'S SKIN

Ere modest Virtue lost her way
Among the dissipated gay,
Few modes were used for travel;
Unknown to whip, or spur, or boot,
Each hardy Briton trudged on foot,
Through mud, bog, dust, and gravel.

'Twas then the fair, as story tells,
(Ah! how unlike our modern belles!)
Knew neither coach nor saddle;
No female Phaetonians then
Surpassed the boldest of our men
In gesture, look, and straddle.

But formed by Nature's artless hand,

A galloping in the far distance
(it may be ...?),
that cometh, that o'er the plain rusheth
with pace all a-tremble and swift.

A plain like a desert, unending,
all ample, all arid, monotonous;
stray shadows of birds there bewildered,
that glide arrow-swift on their way;

Naught else. These wee creatures are fleeing
some horrible thing that approaches;
but what it may be or whence coming,
not earth and not heaven doth know.

A galloping in the far distance
now louder,

Assembled at thy high command,
Before thy face, Great King! we stand;
The voice that marshall'd ev'ry star,
Has call'd thy people from afar.

First bow our hearts beneath thy sway,
Then, give thy growing empire way,
O'er wastes of sin — o'er fields of blood,
Till, like the rose, the desert bud.

Our pray'rs assist, accept our praise,
Our hopes revive, our courage raise,
Our counsels aid, and oh! impart
The single eye — the faithful heart.

To L. A. T.

What curled and scented sun-girls, almond-eyed,
 With lotos-blossoms in their hands and hair,
 Have made their swarthy lovers call them fair,
With these spent strings, when brutes were deified,
And Memnon in the sunrise sprang and cried,
 And love-winds smote Bubastis, and the bare
 Black breasts of carven Pasht received the prayer
Of suppliants bearing gifts from far and wide!
This lute has out-sung Egypt; all the lives
 Of violent passion, and the vast calm art

And sky and earth revealed themselves to sight:
the grey earth gasping in the quivering light;
the sky o'ershadowed, tragic and undone:
amid the mute commotion, gleaming white,
a house shone forth and in a flash was gone;
like to an eye, stretched wide in direful fright,
that swiftly oped and shut in the inky night.

INHALES-OWEN CHURCHYARD, ON MISS ANNE POWEL .

Here, here she lies, a budding rose,
Blasted before its bloom,
Whose innocence did sweets disclose
Beyond that flower's perfume.
To those who for her death are grieved,
This consolation's given;
She's from the storms of life relieved
To shine more bright in heaven.

I know: the valley sound I heard erstwhile
was not the pacing steed of mounted knight:
it was the rain, that beat in furious might
against the gutter, from the dripping tile.

But on and on along the bank, where laves
the stream, I saw the knights of chivalry pass;
I saw the shining brightness of cuirass,
I saw the shadow gallop o'er the waves.

When then the wind had ceased, I heard no more
the sound of galloping, no longer quaked
at flights remote, seen in the dubious gleam;