ODE.

OH! shame to thee, Land of the Gaul! Oh! shame to thy children and thee! Unwise in thy glory, and base in thy fall, How wretched thy portion shall be! Derision shall strike thee forlorn,

A mockery that never shall die; The curses of Hate, and the hisses of Scorn Shall burthen the winds of thy sky; And, proud o'er thy ruin, for ever be hurl'd The laughter of Triumph, the jeers of the World!

Oh! where is thy spirit of yore,

The spirit that breathed in thy dead,
When gallantry's star was the beacon before,
And honour the passion that led?
Thy storms have awaken'd their sleep,
They groan from the place of their rest,
And wrathfully murmur, and sullenly weep,
To see the foul stain on thy breast;

For where is the glory they left thee in trust?
'Tis scatter'd in darkness, 'tis trampled in dust!

Go, look through the kingdoms of earth,
From Indus, all round to the Pole,

And something of goodness, of honour, and worth,
Shall brighten the sins of the soul :

But thou art alone in thy shame,

The world cannot liken thee there; Abhorrence and vice have disfigur'd thy name Beyond the low reach of compare ; Stupendous in guilt, thou shalt lend us through time A proverb, a bye-word, for treach'ry and crime!

While conquest illumin'd his sword,

While yet in his prowess he stood,

Thy praises still follow'd the steps of thy Lord,
And welcom'd the torrent of blood;
Tho' tyranny sat on his crown,

And wither'd the nations afar,

Yet bright in thy view was that Despot's renown,
Till Fortune deserted his car;

Then, back from the chieftain thou slunkest away
The foremost to insult, the first to betray!

Forgot were the feats he had done,

The toils he had borne in thy cause;
Thou turned'st to worship a new rising sun,
And waft other songs of applause;
But the storm was beginning to lour,
Adversity clouded his beam;

And honour and faith were the brag of an hour,
And loyalty's self but a dream :-

To him thou hadst banish'd thy vows were restor❜d;
And the first that had scoff'd, were the first that ador'd!

What tumult thus burthens the air?

What throng thus encircles his throne?

'Tis the shout of delight, 'tis the millions that swear
His sceptre shall rule them alone.
Reverses shall brighten their zeal,

Misfortune shall hallow his name,

And the world that pursues him shall mournfully feel How quenchless the spirit and flame

That Frenchmen will breathe, when their hearts are on fire, For the Hero they love, and the chief they admire!

Their hero has rushed to the field;

His laurels are cover'd with shade

But where is the spirit that never should yield,
The loyalty never to fade!

In a moment desertion and guile

Abandon'd him up to the foe;

The dastards that flourish'd and grew in his smile,
Forsook and renounced him in woe;

And the millions that swore they would perish to save, Beheld him a fugitive, captive, and slave!

The Savage all wild in his glen

Is nobler and better than thou;

Thou standest a wonder, a marvel to men,
Such perfidy blackens thy brow!
If thou wert the place of my birth,

At once from thy arms would I sever;
I'd fly to the uttermost parts of the earth,
And quit thee for ever and ever;

And thinking of thee in my long after-years,
Should but kindle my blushes and waken my tears.

Oh! shame to thee, Land of the Gaul!

Oh! shame to thy children and thee!
Unwise in thy glory and base in thy fall,
How wretched thy portion shall be!
Derision shall strike thee forlorn,

A mockery that never shall die;
The curses of Hate and the hisses of Scorn
Shall burthen the winds of thy sky;

And, proud o'er thy ruin, for ever be hurl'd

The laughter of Triumph, the jeers of the World!

NAPOLEON'S FAREWELL.

FROM THE FRENCH. }

FAREWELL to the land where the gloom of my glory
Arose and o'ershadowed the earth with her name-
She abandons me now,-but the page
of her story,

The brightest or blackest, is filled with my fame.
I have warred with a world which vanquished 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!

Farewell to thee, France!-when thy diadem crowned me, I made thee the gem and the wonder of earth,

But thy weakness decrees I should leave as I found thee, Decayed 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 soared with eyes fixed on victory's sun!

Farewell to thee, France!-but when Liberty rallies
Once more in thy regions, remember me then-
The violet still grows in the depth of thy valleys;
Though withered, thy tears will unfold it again—
Yet, yet, I may baffle the hosts that surround us,
And yet may thy heart awake to my voice-

There are links which must break in the chain that has bound u
Then turn thee and call on the chief of thy choice!

TO NAPOLEON.

(FROM THE FRENCH.)

All wept, but particularly Savary, and a Polish officer who had been exalted from the ranks by Bonaparte. He clung to his master's knees, wrote a letter to Lord Keith, entreating permission to accompany him, even in the most menial capacity, which could not be admitted. »

MUST thou go, my glorious chief,
Severed from thy faithful few?
Who can tell thy warrior's grief,
Maddening o'er that long adieu?
Woman's love, and friendship's zeal,
Dear as both have been to me-
What are they to all I feel,

With a soldier's faith for thee?

2.

Idol of the soldier's soul!

First in fight, but mightiest now:
Many could a world controul;
Thee alone no doom can bow.
By thy side for years I dared
Death; and envied those who fell,
When their dying shout was heard,
Blessing him they served so well.