No Spartan tube, no Attic shell, No lyre Aeolian I awake; 'Tis liberty's bold note I swell, Thy harp, Columbia, let me take! See gathering thousands, while I sing, A broken chain exulting bring, And dash it in a tyrant's face, And dare him to his very beard, And tell him he no more is

Fair the face of orient day, Fair the tints of op'ning rose; Butfairer still my Delia dawns, More lovely far her beauty shows. Sweet the lark's wild warbled lay, Sweet the tinkling rill to hear; But, Delia, more delightful still, Steal thine accents on mine ear. The flower-enamour'd busy bee The rosy banquet loves to

Daughter of Chaos' doting years, Nurse of ten thousand hopes and fears, Whether thy airy, insubstantial shade (The rights of sepulture now duly paid) Spread abroad its hideous form On the roaring civil storm, Deafening dinand warring rage Factions wild with factions wage; Or under-ground, deep-sunk, profound, Among the demons of the earth, With groans

Dweller in yondungeon dark, Hangman of creation! mark, Who in widow-weeds appears, Laden with unhonour'd years, Noosing with care a bursting purse, Baited with many a deadly curse? Strophe View the wither'd Beldam's face; Can thy keen inspection trace Aughtof Humanity's sweet, melting grace? Note that eye, 'tis rheum o'erflows; Pity's flood there never rose,

Afar the illustrious Exile roams, Whom kingdoms on this day should hail; Aninmate in the casual shed, On transient pity's bounty fed, Haunted bybusy memory's bitter tale! Beasts of the forest have their savage homes, But He, who should imperial purple wear, Owns not the lapof earth where rests his royal head! His wretched refuge,

Oppress'd with grief, oppress'd with care, A burden more than I can bear, I setme down and sigh; O life! thou art a galling load, Along a rough, a weary road, To wretches such as I! Dim backward as I cast my view, What sick'ning scenes appear! What sorrows yet may pierce me through, Too