Soaring from the mortal cage,
Only subject of your rage,
Baffled Tyrants;-" weep forlorn,
"Break the scourge, your rage we scorn,—
"Mars, receive our votive breath,-
"Give us Freedom, give us Death."
God of Armies hear.
When the bones on earth shall lie,
Weltering to the Summer's sky;
Tho' no sepulture they find,
Tho' they whiten in the wind;
Yet, exult not, haughty foe,
Deem them not a sight of woe:
On the field they shall remain,
Trophies of the glorious slain.
God of Armies hear,
Strains of war let clarions sing,
Let the shouts of battle ring;
Let the volley'd weapons fly,
Dust of combat dim the sky;
In the dread conflicting hour,
Freedom, let me own thy power;
Freedom, take my parting breath,
Godlike trance, ennobled death!
God of Armies hear.
Freedom, now, revives, tho' late,
Maid divine, to wed with Fate ;-
For the nuptial pomp-around
Banners wave, and trumpets sound,
Veins of men libations pour,
Sacred to the genial hour:
Be their offspring Death,.or Life,
Lead me to the generous strife.
God of Armies hear.
'Mid the din of mortal harms,
Fold me, Freedom, in thine arms :
Let me in thy lap be laid,
When the final debt is paid.—
Still, the foe, possest with dread,
Shall confess A MAN lies dead :-
Valiant Helots, never yield—
Follow, follow, to the field.
God of Armies hear.
I, Lars, once of Greece the pride,
For whom so many suitors sigh'd,
Now aged grown, at Venus' shrine
The Mirror of my youth resign:
Since what I am, I will not see,
And what I was, I cannot be.
WOULD you the fairy regions see,
Hence to the green woods run with me;
From mortals safe, the live long night,
There countless feats the fays delight.
Where burns the glow-worm's lamp so blue,
One gives each flower its proper hue;
While, near, his busy huswife weaves
Ribands of grass, and mantling leaves;
Some teach young plants with grace to move,
Some lead the woodbine to her love,
Some strew the shores with shells and sand,
While others pilot weeds from land;
By moon-light these their labours free,
Then follow me, follow me,
And the chaffer's bugle our guide shall be.
* Sung by a Spirit in the SYLPH.
YE mountain-forests proudly wave,
Your shades have nurs'd the good, the brave,
And stretch'd o'er many a patriot grave
Its solitary canopy.
Ages have roll'd, and suns gone down,
Helvetia, o'er thy high renown,
Since Freedom spurn'd all other crown
Than Nature's hoary diadem.
Hide, Valour, now thy blighted fame!
When o'er thy cliffs the Spoiler came,
With banners red, and arms of flame,
And clarions shouting hollowly;
Then o'er thy glacier-summits cold
The trumpet-knell of Freedom toll'd!
Where glory now thy chiefs of old
To stem the tide of slavery?
Victor so long-to arms! to arms!
Hands that the pulse of Freedom warms
Again thro' carnage and alarms
Unfurl the flag of victory.
Ye patriot legions charge-repel→
Fall freemen as your fathers fell!
Here shall your blood's impetuous swell
Proclaim your glorious ancestry!
-Victor no more!-yield, Valour, yield
Thy sacred arms and shatter'd shield,
And humbled on thy chosen field,
Await the chains of tyranny.-
-Master of Fate!-Thy laurels hide,
No glory beams where Freedom died:
Tear from the Gallic standards wide
The insulted crest of Liberty.
Beneath that sign, in ages rude,
Hath many a band of freemen stood,
O'er hills of ice and fields of blood,
To charge the invading ravager!
They fought they fell-ye sons of fame, You blush not for your country's shame; Could not your deeds and victor name Redeem her holy solitudes ?
What echoing plain, what mountain hoar, Heard not your storm of battle roar?— That trump is hush'd-to sound no more, That led the free to victory!
Yet, Freedom, o'er thy lost abode, Which many a godlike foot hath trode, What heart shall trace thy trophied road, Nor burn to 'venge thy destiny!
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