26
“Up, up—away! I heard the words of power,
Those secret vows that seal a nation's doom,
Bid the red flame burst forth at midnight hour,
And make the unconscious slumberer's bed his tomb;
Spare not the babe—the rose-leaf of a day—
But shred the sapling, like the oak, away.
I heard the curse! My soul is sick with gloom:
Wake, chieftains, wake! avert the hour of dread!”
And with that warning voice the guardian-angel fled.
Those secret vows that seal a nation's doom,
Bid the red flame burst forth at midnight hour,
And make the unconscious slumberer's bed his tomb;
Spare not the babe—the rose-leaf of a day—
But shred the sapling, like the oak, away.
I heard the curse! My soul is sick with gloom:
Wake, chieftains, wake! avert the hour of dread!”
And with that warning voice the guardian-angel fled.
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