University of Virginia Library


121

SONG.

[O'er Polonia's plains of glory]

O'er Polonia's plains of glory,
Freedom tower'd—a stately tree;
From all storms, a sky of branches
Shelter'd mine and shelter'd me.
Underneath the tree of ages,
Many a merry song sung we;
Carved his rind, and kiss'd his shadow;
Oh, we loved the glorious tree!
Now, alas! no sky of branches
Shelters mine and shelters me!
Now, alas! the tree of Poland
Low is fall'n, as low can be!
And, as on Euphrates' waters,
When the mournful moonbeam slept,
Israel's wanderers, sad for Zion,
With the weeping willows wept,
So we mourn, and, all unheeded,
Make our roof the unpillar'd sky;
So we roam, and friendless, hopeless,
Shed the tear of memory.