ODE TO LIBERTY.

W

STROPHE.

Ho shall awake the Spartan fife,

And call in solemn sounds to life,

The youths, whose locks divinely spreading,

Like vernal hyacinths in sullen hue,

At once the breath of fear and virtue shedding, Applauding Freedom lov'd of old to view? What new Alcaeus', fancy-blest,

Shall sing the sword, in myrtles drest,

'Alluding to that beautiful fragment of Alcæus.

Εν Μυρίς κλαδι το ξιφος φορήσω,

Ωσπερ Αρμόδιος και Αρισογείτων,
Φιλίαθ ̓ Αρμοδι επω Τεθνηκας,

Νησοις δ' εν Μακαρων Σε φασιν ειναι

Εν μυρίς κλαδι το ξίφος φορησω,
Ωσπερ Αρμόδιος και Αρισογείλων,
Οτ' Αθηναίης εν θυσίαις,

Ανδρα Τυραννον ιππαρχον εκαινείην.
Αει Σφων κλέος εσσείαι κατ' αιαν,
Φίλλαθ' Αρμοδί', και Αρισογείτων.

D

At Wisdom's shrine awhile its flame concealing, (What place so fit to seal a deed renown'd?)

Till she her brightest lightnings round revealing,

It leap'd in glory forth, and dealt her prompted wound!

O goddess, in that feeling hour,

When most its sounds would court thy ears,
Let not my shell's misguided pow'r'

E'er draw thy sad, thy mindful tears.

No, Freedom, no, I will not tell

How Rome, before thy weeping face,

With heaviest sound, a giant-statue, fell,

Push'd by a wild and artless race

From off its wide ambitious base,

When Time his northern sons of spoil awoke,
And all the blended work of strength and grace,
With many a rude repeated stroke,

And many a barb'rous yell, to thousand fragments

broke.

EPODE.

Yet, ev'n where'er the least appear'd,
Th' admiring world thy hand rever'd;

2 Μη μη ταυλα λεγωμες, α Δακρυον ήγαγε Δηοι.

Callimach. Υμιος εις Δημητρα.

Still 'midst the scatter'd states around,
Some remnants of her strength were found;
They saw, by what escap'd the storm,

How wondrous rose her perfect form;

How in the great the labour'd whole,
Each mighty master pour'd his soul!
For
sunny Florence, seat of art,

Beneath her vines preserv'd a part,

Till they3, whom Science lov'd to name,
(O who could fear it?) quench'd her flame.
And lo, an humbler relic laid

In jealous Pisa's olive shade!

See small Marino joins the theme,
Tho' least, not last in thy esteem:
Strike, louder strike th' ennobling strings
To those', whose merchant sons were kings;
To him, who, deck'd with pearly pride,
In Adria weds his green-hair'd bride;
Hail port of glory, wealth, and pleasure,
Ne'er let me change this Lydian measure:
Nor e'er her former pride relate,
To sad Liguria's' bleeding state.

3 The family of the Medici.

s The Venetians.

7 Genoa.

4 The little republic of San Marino.
• The Doge of Venice.

Ah no! more pleas'd thy haunts I seek,
On wild Helvetia's mountains bleak:
(Where, when the favour'd of thy choice,
The daring archer heard thy voice;
Forth from his eyrie rous'd in dread,
The rav'ning eagle northward fled.)
Or dwell in willow'd meads more near,
With those to whom thy stork is dear:
Those whom the rod of Alva bruis'd,
10 refus'd!

Whose crown a British queen'

The magic works, thou feel'st the strains,

One holier name alone remains;

The perfect spell shall then avail,

Hail nymph, ador'd by Britain, hail!

ANTISTROPHE.

Beyond the measure vast of thought,

The works, the wizzard Time has wrought!

8 Switzerland.

9 The Dutch, amongst whom there are very severe penalties for those who are convicted of killing this bird. They are kept tame in almost all their towns, and particularly at the Hague, of the arms of which they make a part. The common people of Holland are said to entertain a superstitious sentiment, that if the whole species of them should become extinct, they should lose their liberties.

10 Queen Elizabeth.

The Gaul, 'tis held of antique story,
Saw Britain link'd to his now adverse strand",

No sea between, nor cliff sublime and hoary,
He pass'd with unwet feet thro' all our land.
To the blown Baltic then, they say,

The wild waves found another

way,

Where Orcas howls, his wolfish mountains rounding; Till all the banded west at once 'gan rise,

A wide wild storm e'en nature's self confounding, With'ring her giant sons with strange uncouth surprise.

This pillar'd earth so firm and wide,

By winds and inward labours torn,

In thunders dread was push'd aside,

And down the should'ring billows born.

And see, like gems, her laughing train,

The little isles on ev'ry side,

Mona1, once hid from those who search the main, Where thousand elfin shapes abide,

"This tradition is mentioned by several of our old historians. Some naturalists too have endeavoured to support the probability of the fact by arguments drawn from the correspondent disposition of the two opposite coasts. I do not remember that any poetical use has been hitherto made of it.

12 There is a tradition in the Isle of Man, that a mermaid becoming enamoured of a young man of extraordinary beauty,