"CALL NOT THE ROYAL SWEDE UNFORTUNATE"

          CALL not the royal Swede unfortunate,
          Who never did to Fortune bend the knee;
          Who slighted fear; rejected steadfastly
          Temptation; and whose kingly name and state
          Have "perished by his choice, and not his fate!"
          Hence lives He, to his inner self endeared;
          And hence, wherever virtue is revered,
          He sits a more exalted Potentate,
          Throned in the hearts of men. Should Heaven ordain
          That this great Servant of a righteous cause                10
          Must still have sad or vexing thoughts to endure,
          Yet may a sympathising spirit pause,
          Admonished by these truths, and quench all pain
          In thankful joy and gratulation pure.
                                                              1809.

"LOOK NOW ON THAT ADVENTURER WHO HATH PAID"

          LOOK now on that Adventurer who hath paid
          His vows to Fortune; who, in cruel slight
          Of virtuous hope, of liberty, and right,
          Hath followed wheresoe'er a way was made
          By the blind Goddess,--ruthless, undismayed;
          And so hath gained at length a prosperous height,
          Round which the elements of worldly might
          Beneath his haughty feet, like clouds, are laid.
          O joyless power that stands by lawless force!
          Curses are 'his' dire portion, scorn, and hate,             10
          Internal darkness and unquiet breath;
          And, if old judgments keep their sacred course,
          Him from that height shall Heaven precipitate
          By violent and ignominious death.
                                                              1809.

"IS THERE A POWER THAT CAN SUSTAIN AND CHEER"

          Is there a power that can sustain and cheer
          The captive chieftain, by a tyrant's doom,
          Forced to descend into his destined tomb--
          A dungeon dark! where he must waste the year,
          And lie cut off from all his heart holds dear;
          What time his injured country is a stage
          Whereon deliberate Valour and the rage
          Of righteous Vengeance side by side appear,
          Filling from morn to night the heroic scene
          With deeds of hope and everlasting praise:--                10
          Say can he think of this with mind serene
          And silent fetters? Yes, if visions bright
          Shine on his soul, reflected from the days
          When he himself was tried in open light.
                                                              1809.

"AH! WHERE IS PALAFOX? NOR TONGUE NOR PEN"

          AH! where is Palafox? Nor tongue no pen
          Reports of him, his dwelling or his grave!
          Does yet the unheard-of vessel ride the wave?
          Or is she swallowed up, remote from ken
          Of pitying human nature? Once again
          Methinks that we shall hail thee, Champion brave,
          Redeemed to baffle that imperial Slave,
          And through all Europe cheer desponding men
          With new-born hope. Unbounded is the might
          Of martyrdom, and fortitude, and right.                     10
          Hark, how thy Country triumphs!--Smilingly
          The Eternal looks upon her sword that gleams,
          Like his own lightning, over mountains high,
          On rampart, and the banks of all her streams.
                                                              1810.

"IN DUE OBSERVANCE OF AN ANCIENT RITE"

          IN due observance of an ancient rite,
          The rude Biscayans, when their children lie
          Dead in the sinless time of infancy,
          Attire the peaceful corse in vestments white;
          And, in like sign of cloudless triumph bright,
          They bind the unoffending creature's brows
          With happy garlands of the pure white rose:
          Then do a festal company unite
          In choral song; and, while the uplifted cross
          Of Jesus goes before, the child is borne                    10
          Uncovered to his grave: 'tis closed,--her loss
          The Mother 'then' mourns, as she needs must mourn;
          But soon, through Christian faith, is grief subdued;
          And joy returns, to brighten fortitude.
                                                              1810.

FEELINGS OF A NOBLE BISCAYAN AT ONE OF THOSE FUNERALS

          YET, yet, Biscayans! we must meet our Foes
          With firmer soul, yet labour to regain
          Our ancient freedom; else 'twere worse than vain
          To gather round the bier these festal shows.
          A garland fashioned of the pure white rose
          Becomes not one whose father is a slave:
          Oh, bear the infant covered to his grave!
          These venerable mountains now enclose
          A people sunk in apathy and fear.
          If this endure, farewell, for us, all good!                 10
          The awful light of heavenly innocence
          Will fail to illuminate the infant's bier;
          And guilt and shame, from which is no defence,
          Descend on all that issues from our blood.
                                                              1810.

ON A CELEBRATED EVENT IN ANCIENT HISTORY

          A ROMAN Master stands on Grecian ground,
          And to the people at the Isthmian Games
          Assembled, He, by a herald's voice, proclaims
          THE LIBERTY OF GREECE:--the words rebound
          Until all voices in one voice are drowned;
          Glad acclamation by which air was rent!
          And birds, high-flying in the element,
          Dropped to the earth, astonished at the sound!
          Yet were the thoughtful grieved; and still that voice
          Haunts, with sad echoes, musing Fancy's ear:                10
          Ah! that a 'Conqueror's' words should be so dear:
          Ah! that a 'boon' could shed such rapturous joys!
          A gift of that which is not to be given
          By all the blended powers of Earth and Heaven.
                                                              1810.

UPON THE SAME EVENT

          WHEN, far and wide, swift as the beams of morn
          The tidings past of servitude repealed,
          And of that joy which shook the Isthmian Field,
          The rough Aetolians smiled with bitter scorn.
          "'Tis known," cried they, "that he, who would adorn
          His envied temples with the Isthmian crown,
          Must either win, through effort of his own,
          The prize, or be content to see it worn
          By more deserving brows.--Yet so ye prop,
          Sons of the brave who fought at Marathon,                   10
          Your feeble spirits! Greece her head hath bowed,
          As if the wreath of liberty thereon
          Would fix itself as smoothly as a cloud,
          Which, at Jove's will, descends on Pelion's top."
                                                              1810.

THE OAK OF GUERNICA
SUPPOSED ADDRESS TO THE SAME

          OAK of Guernica! Tree of holier power
          Than that which in Dodona did enshrine
          (So faith too fondly deemed) a voice divine
          Heard from the depths of its aerial bower--
          How canst thou flourish at this blighting hour?
          What hope, what joy can sunshine bring to thee,
          Or the soft breezes from the Atlantic sea,
          The dews of morn, or April's tender shower?
          Stroke merciful and welcome would that be
          Which should extend thy branches on the ground,             10
          If never more within their shady round
          Those lofty-minded Lawgivers shall meet,
          Peasant and lord, in their appointed seat,
          Guardians of Biscay's ancient liberty.
                                                              1810.

INDIGNATION OF A HIGH-MINDED SPANIARD

          WE can endure that He should waste our lands,
          Despoil our temples, and by sword and flame
          Return us to the dust from which we came;
          Such food a Tyrant's appetite demands:
          And we can brook the thought that by his hands
          Spain may be overpowered, and he possess,
          For his delight, a solemn wilderness
          Where all the brave lie dead. But, when of bands
          Which he will break for us he dares to speak,
          Of benefits, and of a future day                            10
          When our enlightened minds shall bless his sway;
          'Then', the strained heart of fortitude proves weak;
          Our groans, our blushes, our pale cheeks declare
          That he has power to inflict what we lack strength to bear.
                                                              1810.