If they rule, it shall be o'er our ashes and graves; But we've smote them already with fire on the

waves,

And new triumphs on land are before us.

To the charge!-Heaven's banner is o'er us.

This day shall ye blush for its story,

Or brighten your lives with its glory.

Our women, Oh, say, shall they shriek in despair,

Or embrace us from conquest with wreaths in their

hair?

Accursed may his memory blacken,

If a coward there be that would slacken

Till we've trampled the turban and shown ourselves worth

Being sprung from and named for the godlike of earth.

Strike home, and the world shall revere us

As heroes descended from heroes.

Old Greece lightens up with emotion

Her inlands, her isles of the Ocean;
Fanes rebuilt and fair towns shall with jubilee ring,
And the Nine shall new-hallow their Helicon's spring:
Our hearths shall be kindled in gladness,

That were cold and extinguish'd in sadness;

Whilst our maidens shall dance with their whitewaving arms,

Singing joy to the brave that deliver'd their charms, When the blood of yon Musulman cravens

Shall have purpled the beaks of our ravens.

THE LOVER TO HIS MISTRESS

ON HER BIRTH-DAY.

Ir any white-wing'd Power above

IF

My joys and griefs survey,

The day when thou wert born, my loveHe surely bless'd that day.

I laugh'd (till taught by thee) when told
Of Beauty's magic powers,
That ripen'd life's dull ore to gold,
And changed its weeds to flowers.

THE LOVER TO HIS MISTRESS.

My mind had lovely shapes pourtray'd;

But thought I earth had one

Could make ev'n Fancy's visions fade
Like stars before the sun?

I gaz'd, and felt upon my lips

Th' unfinish'd accents hang:

One moment's bliss, one burning kiss,
To rapture chang'd each pang.

And though as swift as lightning's flash

Those tranced moments flew,

Not all the waves of time shall wash
Their memory from my view.

89

90

THE LOVER TO HIS MISTRESS.

But duly shall my raptured song,
And gladly shall my eyes,

Still bless this day's return, as long

As thou shalt see it rise.