Hark! hark! in the howl of the wind

The shout of the battle-the clang of their drums→→→
The horsemen are met, and the shock of the fight
Is the blast, that disbranches the wood.

Behold from the clouds of their power

The lightning-the lightning is lanced at our sires,
And the thunder that shakes the broad pavement of Heaven,
And the darkness that shadows the day!

Ye Souls of our Fathers be brave!

Ye shrunk not before the invaders on earth,
Ye trembled not then at their weapons of fire,
Brave Spirits ye tremble not now!

We gaze on your warfare in hope, We send up our shouts to encourage your arms! Lift the lance of your vengeance O Fathers! with force, For the wrongs of your country strike home!

Remember the land was your own

When the Sons of Destruction came over the seas,
That the old fell asleep in the fullness of days
And their children wept over their graves.

Till the Strangers came into the land

With tongues of deceit and with weapons of fire,
Then the strength of the people in youth was cut off,
And the father wept over his son.

It thickens-the tumult of fight,
Loud and louder the blast of the battle is heard-
Remember the wrongs that your country endures,
Remember the fields of your fame.

Joy joy for the Strangers recoil-
They give way-they retreat to the land of their life!
Pursue them! pursue them! remember your wrongs
Let your lances be drunk with their wounds.

The Souls of your wives shall rejoice

As they welcome you back to

your

Islands of Bliss,

th for

e!

And the breeze that refreshes the toil-throbbing brow
Waft thither the song of your praise.

END.

Briftol: Printed by Biggs and Co. St. Auguftine's-Back.