THE

LOVE OF OUR COUNTRY.

Εἷς οἰωνὸς ἄριτος, ἀμύνεσθαι περὶ πάτρης. Hom.

Who fights his Country's battle,
Does in his bosom feel a golden omen
Of victory.

YE souls illustrious, who in days of yore With peerless might the British target bore; Who, clad in wolf-skin, from the scythed car Frown'd on the iron brow of mailed war; Who dar'd your rudely-painted limbs oppose To Chalybean steel and Roman foes:

And ye of later age, though not less fame,

In tilt and tournament, the princely game

Of Arthur's barons, wont, by hardiest sport,
To claim the fairest guerdon of the court;
Say, holy Shades, did e'er your gen'rous blood
Roll through your faithful sons in nobler flood,
Than late, when George bade gird on ev'ry thigh
The myrtle-braided sword of Liberty a?

Say, when the high-born Druid's magic strain
Rous'd, on old Mona's top, a female train

To madness, and with more than mortal rage
Bade them, like furies, in the fight engage;

Frantic when each unbound her bristling hair,
And shook a flaming torch, and yell'd in wild despair;

Or when, in Cressy's plain, the sable might

Of Edward dar'd four monarchs to the fight;

Say, holy Shades, did patriotic heat

In your big hearts with quicker transport beat

Than in your Sons, when forth like storms they pour'd,

2 Vide Αρμοδία μέλος.

In Freedom's cause, the fury of the sword; ..
Who rul❜d the main, or gallant armies led,..

With Hawke who conquer'd, or with Wolfe who bled?

Poor is his triumph, and disgrac'd his name,
Who draws the sword for empire, wealth, or fame:
For him though wealth be blown on ev'ry wind,
Though Fame announce him mightiest of mankind,
Though twice ten nations crouch beneath his blade,
Virtue disowns him, and his glories fade:
For him no pray'rs are pour'd, no peans sung,
No blessings chaunted from a nation's tongue :
Blood marks the path to his untimely bier;

The curse of widows, and the orphan's tear,
Cry to high Heav'n for vengeance on his head :...
Alive detested, and accurst when dead.....

Indignant of his deeds, the Muse who sings

Th' undaunted truth, and scorns to flatter kings,

с

Shall shew the Monster in his hideous form,

And mark him as an earthquake, or a storm.A

Not so the patriot Chief, who dar'd withstand The base invader of his native land;

Who made her weal his noblest, only end;

Rul'd, but to serve her; fought, but to defend ;;

"Her voice in council, and in war her sword; "Lov'd as her father, as her God ador'd ;"; Who, firmly virtuous, and severely brave,.. Sunk with the freedom that he could not save! On worth like his the Muse delights to wait, Reveres alike in triumph or defeat;

Crowns with true glory, and with spotless fame, i And honours PAOLI'S more than Frederick's name. Here let the Muse withdraw the blood-stain'd veil, And shew the boldest sons of public zeal:

Lo! SYDNEY, bending o'er the block! his mien,

His voice, his hand, unshaken, clear, serene:

Yet no diffuse harangue, declaim'd aloud,
To gain the plaudit of a wayward crowd;
No specious vaunt death's terrors to defy,
Still death delaying, as afraid to die;

But sternly silent down he bow'd, and prov'd
A calm, firm martyr to the cause he lov❜d.
Unconquer'd patriot! form'd by ancient lore

The love of ancient freedom to restore;
Who nobly acted what he boldly thought,

And seal'd, by death, the lesson that he taught.
Dear is the tie, that links the anxious sire

To the fond babe that prattles round his fire; Dear is the love, that prompts the grateful youth His sire's fond cares and drooping age to sooth:

Dear is the brother, sister, husband, wife;

Dear all the charities of social life:

Nor wants firm friendship holy wreaths to bind

In mutual sympathy the faithful mind: