Page:Fears in Solitude - Coleridge (1798).djvu/25

 With bleeding wounds; forgive me, that I cherish'd One thought, that ever bless'd your cruel foes! To scatter rage and trait'rous guilt Where Peace her jealous home had built; A patriot race to disinherit Of all that made their stormy wilds so dear, And with inexpiable spirit To taint the bloodless freedom of the mountaineer.— O France! that mockest heav'n, adult'rous, blind, And patriot only in pernicious toils! Are these thy boasts, champion of human kind: To mix with kings in the low lull of sway, Yell in the hunt, and share the murd'rous prey; T' insult the shrine of liberty with spoils From freemen torn; to tempt and to betray!

The sensual and the dark rebel in vain, Slaves by their own compulsion! In mad game They burst their manacles, and wear the name Of freedom graven on a heavier chain!