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elegiac ode.
Yields to the thunder of applause,
Which sweeps the vaulted heaven;
Whilst ye immortal Nine!
With busy fingers twine
From ever-living plants fair chaplets for his shrine!
Which sweeps the vaulted heaven;
Whilst ye immortal Nine!
With busy fingers twine
From ever-living plants fair chaplets for his shrine!
Where was the generous flush of youth?
On Vassall's cheek it glow'd!
Where thy pure dictates, manly Truth?
From Vassall's lips they flow'd!
Honour, unsafe, but noble guest,
Sate proudly thron'd in Vassall's breast!
His gleaming faulchion wav'd on high,
Like the red meteor in the sky,
Glar'd terror on the startled eye:
Yet often o'er his prostrate foe,
His British arm withheld the blow,
On Vassall's cheek it glow'd!
Where thy pure dictates, manly Truth?
From Vassall's lips they flow'd!
Honour, unsafe, but noble guest,
Sate proudly thron'd in Vassall's breast!
His gleaming faulchion wav'd on high,
Like the red meteor in the sky,
Glar'd terror on the startled eye:
Yet often o'er his prostrate foe,
His British arm withheld the blow,
