FREEDOM IN MISFORTUNE.

I

SWEET Freedom! slow may be thy step and sad,
Long the dark day, and strong the evil fate,
The glory of thy face no longer glad,

And Friendship false, and Enmity elate;

Yet still I love thee, Dear Unfortunate!

Fair Mourner! fair, as when thine eye

All-beautiful, as in thy high estate;

looked proud;

Yes! dear, as when thy joyous laugh was loud,

And round thy beauty knelt a fond, admiring crowd.

II.

The love, that found thy smiles delicious food, Should prize the grateful nurture of thy tears, With tender skill contrive thy grief some good, And hold the word of kindness to thy fears. O happy Mourner! whom true Love reveres And makes as blest as thou canst bear to be; Thy sadness charms, thy helplessness endears ; Yes! kinder feel the storms that howl o'er thee, Than the soft summer air that breathes on Tyranny.

III.

Look up, sweet Freedom! let not Sorrow find

Its open book too dreadful for thy view;
Majestic Student! gather up thy mind,
And read the bitter volume bravely through.
Nought writ therein will startle thee as new:
Alas! too learned in the lore of Woe

Thy life has been; this lesson adds but few
To former pains; a little more to know

Is toil thy mighty mind can safely undergo.

148

FREEDOM IN MISFORTUNE.

IV.

Immortal Freedom! let not Sorrow die

Without the peace a useful life must lend;
Its healing virtue to thy hurts apply,

And thank the freedom of the rough, kind friend.
Yes! dear affliction shall in glory end;

Thy life its happiest day has yet to see,

When the fond hearts that feel it sweet to spend Their love upon the woe that hallows thee, Shall triumph in thy joy, imperial Liberty!

R. Matthison and Co., Printers, Edgbaston-street, Birmingham.