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    The pure laurels of Washington yet will be green In the realms where the Inca and Spaniard have reigned ; And the Andes will look down on one happy scene Of glory redeemed , and of freedom regained .

    And Hellas—dear Hellas 1—the same brilliant standard From Eurotas to Dirce ere long will be thrown Abroad in those winds , which for ages have squandered Their sweet breath on the flag of the despot alone . No more shall the Greek , in degenerate terror , Brook the scourge and the chain from the fear of the sword ^ No more shall the free wave of Salamis mirror The colours that tell of an Ottoman lord !

    In vain may the bands of the Orient environ The hosts of a nation with glory on fire ;—No slave will unhallow the death-land of Byron , No freeman forget the last notes of his lyre i And thou too , Riego ! how fond was the dream , That thy blood would cement up a half-fallen throne—That the hearts of the race thou didst rise to redeem

    Only caught the proud pulses of hope from thy own I Thy patriot-sword may be sheathed for a while , But it yet will be drawn by a patriot ' s hand , And the spirit of Freedom will look down and smile , As she waves her bright wing o ' er a tyrantless land I

    Over Spain ' s Imndred hills , and her beautiful valleys , The cry t ) f Deliverance yet will be heard ; And the serf in her huts , and the slave in her galleys , Will feel their hearts leap at the paradise-word , Forbic | it , that any unhallowed Alliance

    Should hold the crushed nations for ever in thrall—That the yew should long bid their imperial defiance To the reason , the faith , and the glory of all ! No , Mankind will yet wake to a loftier duty , Than that which enjoins them to sink into slaves ; And their eyes will be opened , though late , to the beauty Of Truth that ennobles , of Freedom that saves !

    Thy first steps , lovel y Liberty 1 sometimes may falter—But thy march will not cease , nor thy banner be furled * Till thy conquering hand shall have reared a proud altar To the God of the Free , o ' er the thrones of a world 1 Vrediton , 1826 ,

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    Sir , In noticing my Sonnet , written iu Burbage Wood , * you were pleased to make a kind of inquiry , whether I might not be a " a direct descendant of " Dare , ( my namesake , ) " the quick-witted patriot of olden time . " -h

    Why not ? If a mind that all knowledge would know Of ages elapsed and of ages to come ; If thoughts that with freedom and liberty glow , That man may be one , and the wide earth a home :

    * Vide Mon . Repos . XIX . 423 . t Vide Mon . Repos . XX . 393 .

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    46 Poetry . —To the Author of the Critical SgnopsUfor Jitlffi 1824 .

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    TO THE AUTHOR OF THE CRITICAL SYNOPSIS OF THE MONTHLY REPOSITORY FOR JULY . 1824 .

• Citation
  • Monthly Repository (1806-1838) and Unitarian Chronicle (1832-1833), Jan. 2, 1826, page 46, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse.ac.uk/periodicals/mruc/issues/vm2-ncseproduct2544/page/46/