Page:The Spirit of the Nation.djvu/133

Rh The lightning, in that stormy hour

When forth defiance rolls,

May change the poles of Saxon pow'r,

And melt the links our long, long show'r

But rusted round our souls.

II.

To bear the wrongs we can redress!

To make a thing of time

The tyranny we can repress—

Eternal by our dastardness!

Were crime—or worse than crime.

And we, whose best—and worst was shame,

From first to last, alike,

May take, at length, a loftier aim,

And struggle, since it is the same

To suffer—or to strike.

III.

What hatred of perverted might

The cruel hand inspires,

That robs the linnet's eye of sight,

To make it sing both day and night!

Yet thus they robb'd our sires,

By blotting out the ancient lore,

Where every loss was shone.

Up with the flag! we stand before

The Saxons of the days of yore,

In Saxons of our own.

IV.

Denial met our just demands!

And hatred met our love!

Till now, by Heaven, for grasp of hands,

We'll give them clash of battle brands,

And gauntlet 'stead of glove.

And may the Saxon stamp his heel

Upon the coward's front,

Who sheathes his own unbroken steel,

Until for mercy tyrants kneel,

Who forced us to the brunt.