Amidst the nations, evermore in arms,
Be thou a haven, safe from all alarms;
Alone immoveable 'midst ruins stand,

The' unfailing hope of every failing land:
To thee for refuge kings enthroned repair;
Slaves flock to breathe the freedom of thine air.
Hither, from chains and yokes, let exiles bend
Their footsteps; here the friendless find a friend;
The country of mankind shall Britain be,

The home of peace, the whole world's sanctuary."

The pageant fled; 't was but a dream: he woke, And found himself beneath the Druid-oak, Where first the phantom on his vigil broke.

Around him gleam'd the morn's reviving light;

But distant trumpets summon'd to the fight,

And Falkland slept among the slain at night.

THE PATRIOT'S PASS-WORD.

On the achievement of Arnold de Winkelried, at the battle of Sempach, in which the Swiss insurgents secured the freedom of their country, against the power of Austria, in the fourteenth century.

"MAKE way for liberty!" he cried, Made way for liberty, and died.

In arms the Austrian phalanx stood,

A living wall, a human wood;

A wall,—where every conscious stone

Seem'd to its kindred thousands grown,

A rampart all assaults to bear,

Till time to dust their frames should wear:

A wood,-like that enchanted grove*,

In which with fiends Rinaldo strove,
Where every silent tree possess'd

A spirit imprison'd in its breast,

Which the first stroke of coming strife
Might startle into hideous life :

So still, so dense, the Austrian stood,
A living wall, a human wood.

Impregnable their front appears,

All-horrent with projected spears,

Whose polish'd points before them shine,
From flank to flank, one brilliant line,

Bright as the breakers' splendours run

Along the billows to the sun.

Opposed to these, a hovering band

Contended for their father-land;

Peasants, whose new-found strength had broke

From manly necks the' ignoble yoke,

→ Gerusalemme Liberata, canto xviii.

And beat their fetters into swords,

On equal terms to fight their lords,

And what insurgent rage had gain'd,
In many a mortal fray maintain'd.
Marshall'd once more, at freedom's call
They came to conquer or to fall,

Where he who conquer'd, he who fell,
Was deem'd a dead or living Tell;
Such virtue had that patriot breathed,
So to the soil his soul bequeath'd,
That wheresoe'er his arrows flew,
Heroes in his own likeness grew,
And warriors sprang from every sod,
Which his awakening footstep trod.

And now the work of life and death Hung on the passing of a breath;

The fire of conflict burn'd within,

The battle trembled to begin;

Yet while the Austrians held their ground,

Point for assault was nowhere found;

Where'er the' impatient Switzers gazed,
The' unbroken line of lances blazed;

That line 't were suicide to meet,

And perish at their tyrants' feet:

How could they rest within their graves To leave their homes the haunts of slaves? Would they not feel their children tread, With clanking chains, above their head?

It must not be; this day, this hour
Annihilates the invader's power;
All Switzerland is in the field,

She will not fly, she cannot yield,
She must not fall; her better fate

Here gives her an immortal date.

Few were the numbers she could boast,

Yet every freeman was a host,

And felt as 't were a secret known,

That one should turn the scale alone,