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ODES AND SONGS. 91
But list, that wo-waked note! Its echoes onward float,
Like tempest's sound: Of death—despair it tells ! It nearer, deeper swells, As 'twere some demon's yells,
In darkness bound.
On to the battle field !
Grasp virtue's sword and shield ;
Contend like men; Quail not when demons shriek : Let terror blanch no cheek ! Bid freedom's watchword speak
From mount and glen !
Here at her altar swear Your country's ark to tear
From despot's hand: Midst drunkard hosts be brave— Your holy birthright save ! Roll back that hellish wave
Which sweeps the land J |
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19 SONG.
LIFT NOT THE WINE-CUP.
Look not thou upon the wine when it is red.—proverbs.
O
! soft sleep the hills in their sunny repose, In the lands of the south where the vine gaily grows; And blithesome the hearts of the vintagers be, In the grape purple vales, in the Isles of the sea :
And fair is the wine when its splendor is poured 'Mid silver and gold round the festival board,
When the magic of music awakes in its power, And wit gilds the fast falling sands of the hour: |
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