Where human fiends on midnight errands walk,
And bathe in brains the murderous tomahawk,
There shall the flocks on thymy pasture stray,
And shepherds dance at Summer's opening day;
Each wandering genius of the lonely glen
Shall start to view the glittering haunts of men,
And silent watch, on woodland heights around,
The village curfew as it tolls profound.

In Libyan groves, where damned rites are done,
That bathe the rocks in blood, and veil the sun,
Truth shall arrest the murderous arm profane,

Wild Obi flies-the veil is rent in twain.

Where barbarous hordes on Scythian mountains roam,

Truth, Mercy, Freedom, yet shall find a home;
Where'er degraded Nature bleeds and pines,
From Guinea's coast to Sibir's dreary mines,
Truth shall pervade th' unfathomed darkness there,
And light the dreadful features of despair.-
Hark! the stern captive spurns his heavy load,
And asks the image back that Heaven bestowed.
Fierce in his eye the fire of valor burns,
And, as the slave departs, the man returns.

Oh! sacred Truth! thy triumph ceased a while,
And HOPE, thy sister, ceased with thee to smile,

When leagued Oppression poured to Northern wars

Her whiskered pandoors and her fierce hussars,
Waved her dread standard to the breeze of morn,

Pealed her loud drum, and twanged her trumpet horn;
Tumultuous Horror brooded o'er her van,

Presaging wrath to Poland-and to man!

Warsaw's last champion from her height surveyed,
Wide o'er the fields, a waste of ruin laid,—
Oh Heaven! he cried, my bleeding country save!--
Is there no hand on high to shield the brave?
Yet, though destruction sweep these lovely plains,
Rise, fellow-men! our country yet remains!
By that dread name, we wave the sword on high!
And swear for her to live!-with her to die!

He said, and on the rampart-heights arrayed
His trusty warriors, few, but undismayed;
Firm-paced and slow, a horrid front they form,
Still as the breeze, but dreadful as the storm;
Low murmuring sounds along their banners fly,
Revenge, or death,-the watchword and reply;
Then pealed the notes, omnipotent to charm,
And the loud tocsin tolled their last alarm !—
In vain, alas! in vain, ye gallant few!

From rank to rank your volleyed thunder flew :

"HOPE, for a season, bade the world farewell.
And Freedom shriek'd Las Kosciusko fell."