Page:The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero) - Volume 4.djvu/298

260 Oh! my own beauteous land! so long laid low,

So long the grave of thy own children's hopes,

When there is but required a single blow

To break the chain, yet—yet the Avenger stops,

And Doubt and Discord step 'twixt thine and thee,

And join their strength to that which with thee copes;

What is there wanting then to set thee free,

And show thy beauty in its fullest light?

To make the Alps impassable; and we,

Her Sons, may do this with one deedUnite.