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That fervent energy must spread,
Till despotism's towers be overthrown;
Liberty stands alone!
Accomplish thy design;
Freely on all men shine ;
LESSON CXCI.--SHAKSPEARE.CHARLES SPRAGUR.
Then Shakspeare rose ! -
His daring hand he flings,
And lo! a new creation glows !
Madness, with his frightful scream,
Avarice, with his blade and beam, 10 Hatred, blasting with a glance,
Remorse, that weeps, and Rage, that roars,
Mirth, his face with sunbeams lit,
Arm in arm with fresh-eyed Wit,
From the feudal tower pale Terror rushing,
Where the prophet bird's wail
Dies along the dull gale,
Then broken-hearted sinks to rest, Beneath the bubbling wave that shrouds her maniac breast.
Young Love, with eye of tender gloom,
Now drooping o'er the hallowed tomb, 5
Where his plighted victims lie,
Where they met, but met to die :-
Through the dewy arbor peeping,
Where beauty's child, the frowning world forgot, 10
To youth's devoted tale is listening,
Rapture on her dark lash glistening,
Thus rise the phantom throng,
Obedient to their master's song,
For other worlds war's great one sighed in vain,-
Earth and her tribes his mystic wand obey; 20 Old ocean trembles, thunder cracks the skies,
Air teems with shapes and tell-tale spectres rise :
Time yields his trophies up, and death restores 25 The mouldered victims of his voiceless shores.
The fireside legend, and the faded page,
To scourge bold vice, and start the generous tear; 30 With pictured folly gazing fools to shame,
And guide young Glory's foot along the path of fame.
LESSON CXCII.-SPEECH OF RIENZI TO THE ROMANS.-Miss
The bright sun rises to his course, and lights 5 A race of slaves! He sets, and his last beam
Falls on a slave : not such as, swept along
By the full tide of power, the conqueror leads
Of petty tyrants, feudal despots ; lords, 5 Rich in some dozen paltry villages,
Strong in some hundred spearmen-only great
Cries out against them. But this very day,
Was struck,-struck like a dog, by one who wore
Nor lifted up his voice in servile shouts,
And suffer such dishonor? Men, and wash not
I had a brother once, a gracious boy,
Of sweet and quiet joy," there was the look
That gracious boy! Younger by fifteen years, 25 Brother, at once, and son ! " He left my side,
A summer bloom on his fair cheeks,-a smile
The corse, the mangled corse, and then I cried 30 For vengeance !-Rouse, ye Romans!—Rouse, ye slaves Have
brave sons? Look in the next fierce brawl To see them die. Have ye fair daughters ? Look To see them live, torn from your arms, distained,
Dishonored ; and, if ye dare call for justice,
That sat on her seven hills, and from her throne
Was greater than a king! And once again, 40 Hear me, ye walls, that echoed to the tread
Of either Brutus! once again I swear,
LESSON CXCIII. SAME SUBJECT.- -Thomas Moore. “ Romans ! look round you,-on this sacred place
There ince stood shrines, and gods, and godlike men, What see you now.? what solitary trace
Is left of all that made Rome's glory then ? 5 The shrines are sunk, the sacred mount bereft
Even of its name,-and nothing now remains
To whet our pangs and aggravate our chains !
What visitation hath there come from God,
Here, on our great forefathers' glorious graves ? 15 It cannot be,-rise up, ye mighty dead,
If we, the living, are too weak to crush
Till all but Romans at Rome's tameness blush !
Happy Palmyra ! in thy desert domes,
For the stork's brood, superb Persepolis !
Have left no embers,-no half-living trace,25 No slaves, to crawl around the once proud spot,
Till past renown in present shame's forgot;
If lone and lifeless through a desert hurled,
Would wear more true magnificence than decks
Through every spot her princely Tiber laves,
That earth engenders,—tyrants and their slaves ! 35 And we,-oh! shame,—we, who have pondered o'er
The patriot's lesson, and the poet's lay;
Tracking our country's glories all the way,
And ghastly, on her mouldering sepulchre !
But this is past,—too long have lordly priests
And priestly lords led us, with all our pride
Dragged to the shrine, with faded garlands tied. 5 "Tis o'er,—the dawn of our deliverance breaks !
Up from his sleep of centuries awakes
And sends his voice through ages yet to come,
LESSON cxciv.-GUSTAVUS VASA TO THE SWEDES.—Brooke
years, 5 Aloof hath held invasion from
And in one hour give up to infamy
Die all first!
Now from my soul Ijoy, I joy my friends, 15 To see ye feared ; to see that even your foes
Do justice to your valor !—There they are,
And oh! when † look around and see you here, 20 Of number short, but prevalent in virtue,
My heart swells high, and burns for the encounter.
Matched to the virtue of a single arm
His fields from fire, his infants from the sword,
Let us on!