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Turn'd to the setting sun her bright array,
And hung her trophies o'er the couch of day.
Holland,— whose hardy sons roll'd back the sea, To build the halcyon-nest of liberty, — Shameless abroad the enslaving flag unfurl'd, And reign'd a despot in the younger world.
Denmark, — whose rovinghordes, in barbarous times, Fill'd the wide north with piracy and crimes, • Awed every shore, and taught their keels to sweep O'er every sea, the Arabs of the deep, — Embark'd, once more to western conquest led By RoUo's spirit, risen from the dead.
Gallia, — who vainly aim'd, in depth of night, To hurl old Rome from her Tarpeian height, (But lately laid, with unprevented blow. The thrones of kings, the hopes of freedom low,)
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