Page:The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero) - Volume 1.djvu/513

Rh Lo! there Rebellion rears her ghastly head,

And glares the Nemesis of native dead;

Till Indus rolls a deep purpureal flood,

And claims his long arrear of northern blood.

So may ye perish!—Pallas, when she gave

Your free-born rights, forbade ye to enslave.

"Look on your Spain!—she clasps the hand she hates,

But boldly clasps, and thrusts you from her gates.

Bear witness, bright Barossa! thou canst tell

Whose were the sons that bravely fought and fell.