To the River Boyne in Ireland

Proud ever be thy waves, immortal stream,
That bore in Freedom's animating sight
Her consecrated Hero to the fight,
Himself an Army — the oppressor's dream
To guilty fears awakening! — cherish'd theme
Of grateful homage, and the Bard's delight,
Upon whose glowing tablets, clear and bright,
Are stamp'd the Patriot Chiefs: alas, they beam
No more in living rivals of their fame
(Illustrious conflict!); but the mask of these
Wild Anarchy assumes, in colours dress'd
That cheat the public faith, and with a name
Of " human rights " the shallow ear can please,
Till havock reigns, and mercy is a jest.
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