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Untitled Article
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Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software. The text has not been manually corrected and should not be relied on to be an accurate representation of the item.
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She saw the Cross dishonour'd , and the fires Of Christian temples quencb'd in Christian , blood ; And yet she felt not ! or her only thought Was how to crush , by secret , cruel arts , The spirit calling for revenge on Greece !
Oh ! England , Queen of Ocean—once belov'd By all who worship'd Freedom—once belie v'd By all , who sigh'd to serve her ; thou hast lost What kingdoms can't repay thee—gen ' rous Fame !
Thy virtue has departed—^ -thy proud deeds Are wither ed in the taint of selrish hopes , And martyrs to that cause , which once was thine , Die , breathing curses on thy broken faith ;—For thou hast leagu ed with barb ' ro us foes of mind .
And Monarchs jealous of the manly soul , To blast the fairest lands of all the earth With the dark curse of ignorance and chains ! Oh ! England , Queen of Ocean , conquest-crown'd ! Remember Babylon with all her pride—Her merchant-princes , and her purple
state—Remember Babylon ! where Mammon rul'd , And his rich shrines flashed boundless splendour round , Where , sullenly , the desert-bird reigns now ! T .
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SONG . [ Frotoi the Calcutta Journal , No . 208 . ] False Love ' s like a rose bud ; While fresh with spring dew 'Tis sweet in its fragrance And bright in its hue ; But in Summer ' s red sun-beam Its loveliness Hies , In the dark blights of autumn , It withers , —it dies . —
False Love ' s like a rainbow Which glitters on high , As a seraph ' s bright path In his own native sky ; It may cheer , for a moment , But clouds come again , And the brief glories vanish , Midst darkness and rain .
The rose bud I gather'd , Is wither'd and dead ;—The rainbow I worship'd In tempests hath fled . — BERNARD WYCLIFFE
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NAPOLEON , [ From the Calcutta Journal , No . 221 . 1 And art thou gone—thou Victini of the Rock , Where late imprisoned , as in felon cage They chained to awful rest thy giant
rage , And fetter'd thee to death ? Dread Mover of the World , That bade it tremble at the scathing shock Of meteor-prowess , quenchless and
unstayed ; Till fearful Monarchs leagued them , and unfurl'd JThe flags of gather'd nations , to upbraid Fhee , with their crushed ambition !—All alone .
Like thy loved Eagle , toweringly on high , Thou wert the mark of millions : —Mighty One ! Thou saw ' st embattled Europe as it rose , With but one awful aim—to work thy close : —
Thou wert not seen to quail at danger nigh , Tho * sceptred foemen , with imperial pride , Stalk'd threat ' ning to the fight , with myriads at their side . They came and crushed thee : there was joy , And riot mirth and triumph ; for the Powers
That singly sunk before thee , or in towers High citadell'd afar , sat fearfully , Waiting thy very glance ., that frown'd but to destroy : ¦—Yes , there was merriment , and boastings
high , For each now nerved his soul , to look on thee , And face for once his dreaded Enemy!—And then rose insult , —such as dastards weak
Are wont upon the fetter'd foe to wreak : — They cast thy rival name from out the roll Of regal brotherhood :- —oh—this were well ! Twerc meet to blot that name—to tear
the scroll Where it shone best and brightest , to expel Thine honours from the field , where their poor deeds Were , in the Earth ' s wide scene , but slothful weeds , . And thou , the Monarch Oak . —Yet worse —for then , To tear thy image from the love of men ,
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432 Poetry . r ^ Song , —* Napoleon ^
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Citation
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Monthly Repository (1806-1838) and Unitarian Chronicle (1832-1833), July 2, 1822, page 432, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse.ac.uk/periodicals/mruc/issues/vm2-ncseproduct2514/page/40/
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