II.

When France in wrath her giant-limbs uprear'd, And with that oath, which smote air, earth, and sea, Stamp'd her strong foot and said she would be free, Bear witness for me, how I hoped and fear'd! With what a joy my lofty gratulation Unaw'd I sang, amid a slavish band; And when to whelm the disenchanted nation, Like fiends embattled by a wizard's wand. The Monarchs march'd in evil day, And Britain join'd the dire array, Though dear her shores and circling ocean, Though many friendships, many youthful loves, Had swoll'n the patriot emotion, And flung a magic light o'er all her hills and groves; Yet still my voice, unalter'd, sang defeat To all that brav'd the tyrant-quelling lance, And shame too long delay'd and vain retreat! For ne'er, O Liberty! with partial aim I dimm'd thy light or damp'd thy holy flame; But bless'd the paeans of deliver'd France, And hung my head and wept at Britain's name.