XI. THE VICTORY. HARK, how the church-bells, with redoubling peals, Stun the glad ear! Tidings of joy have come, Good tidings of great joy! Two gallant ships Met on the element, they met, they fought A desperate fight. Good tidings of great joy! Old England triumphed! Yet another day Of glory for the ruler of the waves! For those who fell ('twas in their country's cause), They have their passing paragraphs of praise, There was one, who died In that day's glory, whose obscurer name 'Twas in the list of slaughter, — and thanked God The sound was not familiar to mine ear. But it was told me after, that this man Was one whom lawful violence had forced Which he had known, - O God! and of the hour It came, and merciful the ball of death Now lies at rest. He ocean-deep Be Thou her comforter, Who art the widow's friend! Man does not know She gazed upon her children, and beheld His image who was gone. O God! be thou, WESTBURY, 1798. XII. HISTORY. THOU chronicle of crimes! I'll read no more; For I am one who willingly would love His fellow-kind. O gentle Poesy! Receive me from the court's polluted scenes, I spake, when, lo! There stood before me, in her majesty, Clio, the strong-eyed Muse. Upon her brow And Philip at his beads, alike inspire Strong anger and contempt, hast thou not risen With nobler feelings, with a deeper love For freedom? Yes: if righteously thy soul Loathes the black history of human crimes Thy song, and it shall teach thee, boy! to raise WESTBURY, 1798. XIII. WRITTEN IMMEDIATELY AFTER READING THE SPEECH OF ROBERT EMMET, ON HIS TRIAL AND CONVICTION FOR HIGH TREASON, "LET no man write my epitaph; let my grave Emmet, no! No withering curse hath dried my spirit up, Worthy, if impious I withheld it now, *These were the words in his speech: "Let there be no inscription upon my tomb; let no man write my epitaph: no man can write my epitaph. I am here ready to die. I am not allowed to vindicate my character; and, when I am prevented from vindicating myself, let no man dare to calumniate me. Let my character and my motives repose in obscurity and peace, till other times and other men can do them justice. Then shall my character be vindicated; then may my epitaph be written. I HAVE DONE." Here in free England shall an English hand Oh! to thine own misfortune and to ours, Justice hath done her unrelenting part, If she in truth be Justice who drives on, So young, so glowing for the general good, Oh, what a lovely manhood had been thine, When all the violent workings of thy youth Had passed away, hadst thou been wisely spared, Left to the slow and certain influences Of silent feeling and maturing thought! How had that heart, that noble heart, of thine, Which even now had snapped one spell, which beat With such brave indignation at the shame And guilt of France, and of her miscreant lord, |