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When eve thy azure book expands,
He sees in starry letters bright, The work of thy eternal hands ;
Great Sovereign of etherial light. With heaven's effulgent type, serene
The beauteous rainbow's cheering ray, Imprint upon his soul the scene
That opens in celestial day.
Is lock'd in death's cold icy chase ;
That hurls the vicious from thy face. And oh! when thy last trump shall sound,
And bid the slumbering dust arise ; May he be in the columns found,
That form the pages of the skies.
XXIII. LIBERTY TO ATHENS,
AN ODE, BY DR. PERCIVAL.
Around the lofty Parthenon ;
In days departed long and gone ;
Pours down its light around those tow'rs, And once again the Greeks arise,
As in their country's noblest hours ; Their swords are girt in virtue's cause,
Minerva's sacred hill is free0! may she keep her equal laws,
While man shall live, and time shall be. The pride of all her shrines went down ;
The Goth, the Frank, the Turk, had reft The laurel from her civic crown ;
Her helm by many a sword was cleft: She lay among the ruins low
Where grew the palm, the cypress rose ; And, crush'd and bruis'd by many a blow,
She cowerd beneath her savage foes ; But now again she springs from earth,
Her loud, awakening trumpet speaks ; She rises in a brighter birth,
And sounds redemption to the Greeks.
It is the classic jubilee-
Their servile years have roll'd away; The clouds that hover'd o'er them flee,
They hail the dawn of freedom's day; From Heaven the golden light descends,
The times of old are on the wing, And glory there her pinion bends,
And beauty wakes a fairer spring; The hills of Greece, her rocks, her waves,
Are all in triumph's pomp arrayed; A light that points their tyrants' graves, Plays round each bold Athenian's blade. The Parthenon, the sacred shrine,
Where wisdom held her pure abode : The hill of Mars, where light divine
Proclaim'd the true, but unknown God; Where justice held unyielding sway,
And trampled all corruption down, And onward took her lofty way
To reach at truth's unfading crown: The rock, where liberty was full,
Where eloquence her torrents roll'd, And loud, against the despot's rule,
A knell the patriot's fury toll'd: The stage whereon the drama spake,
In tones that seem'd the words of heav'n, Which make the wretch in terror shake, As by avenging furies driv'n: The groves and gardens, where the fire Of wisdom, as a fountain, burn'd, And every eye, that dar'd aspire
To truth, has long in worship turn'd: The halls and porticos, where trod
The moral sage, severe, unstain'd, And where the intellectual god
In all the light of science reign'd: The schools, where rose in symmetry
The simple, but majestic pile, Where marble threw its roughness by,
To glow, to frown, to weep, to smile, Where colours made the canvas live,
Where music roll'd her flood along, And all the charms that art can give,
Were blent with beauty, love and song; The port from whose capacious womb
Her navies took their conquering road, The heralds of an awful doom
To all, who would not kiss her rod;
On these a dawn of glory springs,
These trophies of her brighter fame ; Away the long-chain'd city flings
Her weeds, her shackles, and her shame; Again her ancient souls awake,
Harmodious bares anew his sword; Her sons in wrath their fetters break, And freedom is their only lord.
First we'll pledge the shrouded dead;
Let us pledge them with a tear!
Be their slumbers sweet and blest,
O'er their lonely place of rest.
Let us pledge our early hours—
O'er our being's faded flowers?
Let us pledge our countless foes,
Be their hatred what it may;
None are left who wish us well
On this wide and dreary earth ; Let our spirits proudly swell,
As we plege each other's worth.
In the dance and festival ;
And have proved them worthless all!
Till we found it ralueless; We have worn it but to prove
'Tis not that of happiness. We have studied woman's heart,
We have sunned us in her smile, We have burst her bonds apart,
For we found her vain and vile. Fill the goblet full and high,
There is pleasure on each brow; By our strong and mystic lie
Let us pledge each other now! When the grass shall o'er mo grow,
Thou wilt pledge my memory ; And if thou art first to go,
I will do the same for thee.