. Poetical works of James Montgomery . those slumberers. quit their bed. For the glen that gave them birthHides their ashes in its womb : Oh ! tis venerable earth, Freedoms cradle, freedoms tomb. Then on every side begun That unutterable fight;Never rose the astonishd sun On so horrible a sight. Once an eagle of the rock(Twas an omen of our fate) Stoopd, and from my scatterd flockBore a lambkin to his mate. While the parents fed their young,Lo ! a cloud of vultures lean, By voracious famine stung, Wildly screaming, rushd between Fiercely fought the by multitudes opprest, Ti
. Poetical works of James Montgomery . those slumberers. quit their bed. For the glen that gave them birthHides their ashes in its womb : Oh ! tis venerable earth, Freedoms cradle, freedoms tomb. Then on every side begun That unutterable fight;Never rose the astonishd sun On so horrible a sight. Once an eagle of the rock(Twas an omen of our fate) Stoopd, and from my scatterd flockBore a lambkin to his mate. While the parents fed their young,Lo ! a cloud of vultures lean, By voracious famine stung, Wildly screaming, rushd between Fiercely fought the by multitudes opprest, Till their little ones were slain,Till they perishd on their nest. More unequal was the fray Which our band of brethren Avaged ;More insatiate oer their prey Gauls remorseless vultures rao-ed. In innumerable waves Swoln with fury, grim with blood,Headlong rolld the hordes of slaves, And engulfd us with a flood. In the whirli)ool of that flood. Firm in fortitude the eternal rocks we stood In the cataract of the Rhine VOL. Till by tenfold force assaild, In a hurricane of fire,When at length our phalanx faild, Then our couratje blazed the higher. Broken into feeble bands, Fighting in disseverd parts,Weak and weaker grew our hands, Strong and stronger still our hearts. Fierce amid the loud alarms, Shouting in the foremost fray,Children raised their little arms In their countrys evil day. On their countrys dying bed Wives and husbands ponrd their breath;Many a youth and maiden bled, Married at thine altar, Death.* Wildly scatterd oer the plain, ^ Bloodier still the battle grew:— O ye spirits of the slain, Slain on those your prowess slew ! Who shall now your deeds relate ? Ye that fell, unwept, unknown ;Mourning for your countrys fate, But rejoicing in your own ! Virtue, valour, nought availd With so merciless a foe ;When the nerves of heroes faild. Cowards then could strike a blow. Cold and keen the assassins bladeSmote the father to the ground ; Through the infants
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