 | Poems (1791) |  |
VII.
Wake, wake, the kettle-drum, prolong
The swelling trumpet's silver song,
And let the kindred accents pass
Thro' the horn's meandring brass.
Arise—The patriot muse invites to war,
And mounts Bellona's brazen car;
While Harmony, terrific maid!
Appears in martial pomp array'd:
The sword, the target, and the lance
She wields, and as she moves, exalts the Pyrrhic dance.
Trembles the earth, resound the skies—
Swift o'er the fleet, the camp she flies
With thunder in her voice and lightning in her eyes.
The gallant warriours engage
With inextinguishable rage,
And hearts unchil'd with fear;
Fame numbers all the chosen bands
Full in the front fair Vict'ry stands,
And Triumph crowns the rear.
The swelling trumpet's silver song,
And let the kindred accents pass
Thro' the horn's meandring brass.
Arise—The patriot muse invites to war,
And mounts Bellona's brazen car;
While Harmony, terrific maid!
Appears in martial pomp array'd:
The sword, the target, and the lance
She wields, and as she moves, exalts the Pyrrhic dance.
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Swift o'er the fleet, the camp she flies
With thunder in her voice and lightning in her eyes.
The gallant warriours engage
With inextinguishable rage,
And hearts unchil'd with fear;
Fame numbers all the chosen bands
Full in the front fair Vict'ry stands,
And Triumph crowns the rear.
CHORUS.
The Gallant warriours, &c. &c. | Poems (1791) | |