Page:The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero) - Volume 3.djvu/425

Rh II.

As clouds from yonder sun receive

A deep and mellow dye,

Which scarce the shade of coming eve

Can banish from the sky,

Those smiles unto the moodiest mind

Their own pure joy impart;

Their sunshine leaves a glow behind

That lightens o'er the heart.

THY DAYS ARE DONE.

I.

days are done, thy fame begun;

Thy country's strains record

The triumphs of her chosen Son,

The slaughters of his sword!

The deeds he did, the fields he won,

The freedom he restored!

II.

Though thou art fall'n, while we are free

Thou shalt not taste of death!

The generous blood that flowed from thee

Disdained to sink beneath:

Within our veins its currents be,

Thy spirit on our breath!

III.

Thy name, our charging hosts along,

Shall be the battle-word!