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ON THE STAR OF “ THE LEGION OF HONOUR.”
(FROM THE FRENCH.]
Like lava roll’d thy stream of blood,
Before thee rose, and with thee grew,
One tint was of the sunbeam's dyes;
Star of the brave! thy ray is pale,
[FROM THE FRENCH.]
1. FAREWELL to the Land, where the gloom of my Glory Arose and o'ershadow'd the earth with her nameShe abandous me now-but the page of her story, The brightest or blackest, is fill'd with my fame. I have warr’d with a world' which vanquish'd me only When the meteor of Conquest allured me too far; I have coped with the nations which dread me thus lonely, The last single Captive to millions in war!
2. Farewell to thee, France ! when thy diadem crown'd me, I made thee the gem and the wonder of earth, But thy weakness decrees I should leave as I found thec, Decay'd in thy glory, and sunk in thy worth. Oh! for the veteran hearts that were wasted In strife with the storm, when their battles were wonThen the Eagle, whose gaze in that moment was blasted, Had still soar'd with eyes fix'd on victory's sun!
3. Farewell to thee, France !--but when Liberty rallies Once more in thy regions, remember me thenThe violet still grows in the depth of thy valleys; Though wither’d, thy tear will unfold it againYet, yet, I may baffle the hosts that surround us, And yet may thy heart leap awake to my voiceThere are links which miust break in the chain that has
Then turn thee and call on the Chief of thy choice !
WRITTEN ON A BLANK LEAF OF " THE
PLEASURES OF MEMORY."
ABSENT or present, still to thee,
My friend, what magic spells belong ! As all can tell, who share, like me,
In turn thy converse, and thy song. But when the dreaded hour shall come
By Friendship ever deem'd too nigh, And “ MEMORY” o'er her Druid's tomb
Shall weep that aught of thee can die, How fondly will She then repay
Thy homage offer'd at her shrine, And blend, while ages roll away, Her name immortally with thine !
April 19, 1812.
ROUSSEAU-Voltaire-our Gibbon_and de Staël -
(10) Leman! these names worthy of thy shore,
Thy shore of names like these! wert thou no more, Their memory thy remembrance would recall: To them thy banks were lovely as to all,
But they have made them lovelier, for the lore
Of mighty minds doth hallow in the core. Of human hearts the ruin of a wall
Where dwelt the wise and wond'rous; but by thee How much more, Lake of Beauty! do we feel,
In sweetly gliding o'er thy crystal sea,
Which of the heirs of immortality