From the French
Star
of the brave!—whose beam hath shed Such
glory o’er the quick and dead— Thou
radiant and adored deceit! Which
millions rush’d in arms to greet,— Wild
meteor of immortal birth! Why
rise in Heaven to set on Earth?
Souls
of slain heroes form’d thy rays; Eternity
flash’d through thy blaze; The
music of thy martial sphere Was
fame on high and honour here; And
thy light broke on human eyes, Like
a volcano of the skies.
Like
lava roll’d thy stream of blood, And
swept down empires with its flood; Earth
rock’d beneath thee to her base, As
thou didst lighten through all space; And
the shorn Sun grew dim in air, And
set while thou wert dwelling there.
Before
thee rose, and with thee grew, A
rainbow of the loveliest hue Of
three bright colours, each divine, And
fit for that celestial sign; For
Freedom’s hand had blended them, Like
tints in an immortal gem.
One
tint was of the sunbeam’s dyes; One,
the blue depth of Seraph’s eyes; One,
the pure Spirit’s veil of white Had
robed in radiance of its light: The
three so mingled did beseem The
texture of a heavenly dream.
Star
of the brave! thy ray is pale, And
darkness must again prevail! But,
oh thou Rainbow of the free! Our
tears and blood must flow for thee. When
thy bright promise fades away, Our
life is but a load of clay.
And
Freedom hallows with her tread The
silent city of the dead; For
beautiful in death are they Who
proudly fall in her array; And
soon, oh Goddess! may we be For evermore with them or thee! |
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