 | Contributions to a Ballad History of England and the States Sprung from Her |  |
THE TRICOLOR.
A CRY FOR EUROPEAN FREEDOM. 1855.
When will the nations be up once more,
With a shout that shall ring from shore to shore,
And Europe's despots go down before
The flaunt of our flag—the Tricolor?
Palsied and hagridden Europe seems,
Tranced and tortured in evil dreams,
But hard she breathes and turns her o'er;
Let her wake to the flap of the Tricolor!
The render of chains—the Tricolor,
The planter of rights—the Tricolor,
Oh that the people's ranks once more
Were flaunting onward the Tricolor!
With a shout that shall ring from shore to shore,
And Europe's despots go down before
The flaunt of our flag—the Tricolor?
Palsied and hagridden Europe seems,
Tranced and tortured in evil dreams,
But hard she breathes and turns her o'er;
Let her wake to the flap of the Tricolor!
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The planter of rights—the Tricolor,
Oh that the people's ranks once more
Were flaunting onward the Tricolor!
Frenchmen, ground 'neath a despot's heel,
When will you turn on the girdling steel?
Paris, will it be long before
St. Antoine's up for the Tricolor?
Mutterers by the thrice-freed Seine,
When will your barricades rise again?
When will your Marseillaise once more
Be thundered out 'neath the Tricolor?
‘Eighty-nine's’ flag—the Tricolor,
‘Thirty's’ banner—the Tricolor,
When will ‘Forty-eight's’ ranks once more,
Conquer a crown 'neath the Tricolor?
When will you turn on the girdling steel?
Paris, will it be long before
St. Antoine's up for the Tricolor?
Mutterers by the thrice-freed Seine,
When will your barricades rise again?
When will your Marseillaise once more
Be thundered out 'neath the Tricolor?
‘Eighty-nine's’ flag—the Tricolor,
‘Thirty's’ banner—the Tricolor,
When will ‘Forty-eight's’ ranks once more,
Conquer a crown 'neath the Tricolor?
Shall not Naples' Bourbon hear
A shout that shall smite him white with fear?
Shall not Sicily strike once more,
Armed and ranked, for the Tricolor?
Freedom yet shall make her home
In a proud Milan, and a priestless Rome,
And Florence shall yet take heart once more
For her old free life, 'neath the Tricolor.
Mazzmi's banner—the Tricolor,
Garibaldi's colours—the Tricolor,
The South's republics shall live once more,
Chainless again 'neath the Tricolor.
A shout that shall smite him white with fear?
Shall not Sicily strike once more,
Armed and ranked, for the Tricolor?
Freedom yet shall make her home
In a proud Milan, and a priestless Rome,
And Florence shall yet take heart once more
For her old free life, 'neath the Tricolor.
Mazzmi's banner—the Tricolor,
Garibaldi's colours—the Tricolor,
The South's republics shall live once more,
Chainless again 'neath the Tricolor.
How long will Cliquot befool and lie;
Nor fear that his Berliners' hour is nigh?
Brandenburgh oaths will serve no more,
When Prussia takes to the Tricolor.
For another March will the dotard wait?
For the vengeance that's due for ‘Forty-eight?’
To Potsdam shall he not fly once more,
Hunted forth by the Tricolor?
The righter of wrongs—the Tricolor,
The smiter of thrones—the Tricolor,
Let Potsdam's pedant grow wise before
His Prussians take to the Tricolor!
Nor fear that his Berliners' hour is nigh?
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When Prussia takes to the Tricolor.
For another March will the dotard wait?
For the vengeance that's due for ‘Forty-eight?’
To Potsdam shall he not fly once more,
Hunted forth by the Tricolor?
The righter of wrongs—the Tricolor,
The smiter of thrones—the Tricolor,
Let Potsdam's pedant grow wise before
His Prussians take to the Tricolor!
Darkly St. Stephen's tower looks down
On lowering brows in Vienna's town,
On lips that mutter yet more and more
Of days that shall come with the Tricolor.
Austrians, when will the glad time come
When German thoughts must no more be dumb,
When Hapsburg and Croat will fly before
The shouts that herald the Tricolor?
Bohemia's dream—the Tricolor,
Proud Hungary's hope—the Tricolor,
Lombardy's heart is strong once more,
As she flushes and thinks of the Tricolor
On lowering brows in Vienna's town,
On lips that mutter yet more and more
Of days that shall come with the Tricolor.
Austrians, when will the glad time come
When German thoughts must no more be dumb,
When Hapsburg and Croat will fly before
The shouts that herald the Tricolor?
Bohemia's dream—the Tricolor,
Proud Hungary's hope—the Tricolor,
Lombardy's heart is strong once more,
As she flushes and thinks of the Tricolor
Gagged and fettered by cowl and crown,
Hungary crouches, Cossacked down:
Pesth, how long will it be before
Your walls shall fling out the Tricolor?
Kossuth watches and waits afar;
In the leash are Honved and fierce hussar
Guyon, the Austrian squares, once more
Will thunder through, with the Tricolor.
The Magyar's thought—the Tricolor,
The Hapsburg's terror—the Tricolor,
When will Klapka's hussars once more
Spur to the charge for the Tricolor?
Hungary crouches, Cossacked down:
Pesth, how long will it be before
Your walls shall fling out the Tricolor?
Kossuth watches and waits afar;
In the leash are Honved and fierce hussar
Guyon, the Austrian squares, once more
Will thunder through, with the Tricolor.
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The Hapsburg's terror—the Tricolor,
When will Klapka's hussars once more
Spur to the charge for the Tricolor?
That order reigns that trod down souls
When Diebitsch butchered Grokow's Poles;
Shall not that order be rent once more
When Warsaw raises the Tricolor?
Poland, how we hunger to hear
Your thunder-tramp and your lancers' cheer,
When the snow-white eagle streams once more
To the charge, by the side of the Tricolor!
Kosciusko's standard—the Tricolor,
Dombrowski's banner—the Tricolor,
Oh that your pennons were launched once more
On the Russian squares, for the Tricolor!
When Diebitsch butchered Grokow's Poles;
Shall not that order be rent once more
When Warsaw raises the Tricolor?
Poland, how we hunger to hear
Your thunder-tramp and your lancers' cheer,
When the snow-white eagle streams once more
To the charge, by the side of the Tricolor!
Kosciusko's standard—the Tricolor,
Dombrowski's banner—the Tricolor,
Oh that your pennons were launched once more
On the Russian squares, for the Tricolor!
Northward, each despot looks afar
For the help of each tyrant's prop—the Czar,
But westward the Cossack spurs no more
Again to trample the Tricolor.
For at home for him the Western swords
Have carved out work for his swarming hordes,
And conquering Europe shakes no more
At the frowns of the foe of the Tricolor.
Alma's colours—the Tricolor,
The Tchernaya's flag—the Tricolor,
Calmuck and Tartar have learned once more
To fly from the flap of the Tricolor.
For the help of each tyrant's prop—the Czar,
But westward the Cossack spurs no more
Again to trample the Tricolor.
For at home for him the Western swords
Have carved out work for his swarming hordes,
And conquering Europe shakes no more
At the frowns of the foe of the Tricolor.
Alma's colours—the Tricolor,
The Tchernaya's flag—the Tricolor,
Calmuck and Tartar have learned once more
To fly from the flap of the Tricolor.
In each despot's halls is a nameless dread,
A haunting terror at board and bed;
Tyrants listen from shore to shore,
For the cry that shall come with the Tricolor.
The nations gagged, and blinded, and bound,
Harken too for the stormy sound,
The sound that to rend and to loose once more,
Shall conquering come with the Tricolor.
Freer of thought—the Tricolor,
Looser of lips—the Tricolor,
Souls and tongues shall be fettered no more
When thrones go down 'neath the Tricolor.
A haunting terror at board and bed;
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For the cry that shall come with the Tricolor.
The nations gagged, and blinded, and bound,
Harken too for the stormy sound,
The sound that to rend and to loose once more,
Shall conquering come with the Tricolor.
Freer of thought—the Tricolor,
Looser of lips—the Tricolor,
Souls and tongues shall be fettered no more
When thrones go down 'neath the Tricolor.
| Contributions to a Ballad History of England and the States Sprung from Her | |