The Poetical Works of James Gates Percival | ||
[Day-star of Liberty! dawn on our sky]
Day-star of Liberty! dawn on our sky;
Day-star of Liberty! kindle thy light;
Dawn on the plains where the Polanders lie
Slumbering in slavery, buried in night.
Day-star of Liberty! kindle thy light;
Dawn on the plains where the Polanders lie
Slumbering in slavery, buried in night.
Day-star of Liberty! bright are thy rays;
Day-star of Liberty! clear is thy beam:
Dawn on our hills with thy ruddiest blaze,
Shine through the forest and brighten the stream.
Day-star of Liberty! clear is thy beam:
Dawn on our hills with thy ruddiest blaze,
Shine through the forest and brighten the stream.
Wake from his slumber the high-hearted Pole,
Point him to freedom, and summon him on;
Spirit him up in his vengeance to roll
Backward the Russ and the Cossack of Don.
Point him to freedom, and summon him on;
Spirit him up in his vengeance to roll
Backward the Russ and the Cossack of Don.
Shine on the tombs where our heroes are laid,—
Heroes, who died for their country, and hurled
Solyman's legions in crowds to the dead,—
Heroes, who rescued from Mahmoud the world.
Heroes, who died for their country, and hurled
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Heroes, who rescued from Mahmoud the world.
Hark! Sobieski has called from his tomb:
“Think of our glory,—no longer be slaves;
Summon the merciless Russ to their doom,—
O let the fields they have robbed be their graves!”
“Think of our glory,—no longer be slaves;
Summon the merciless Russ to their doom,—
O let the fields they have robbed be their graves!”
Poles, will you sleep when your demigod calls?
Poles, will you bend to the yoke of the Czar?
Think of Suwarrow,—of Prague's mouldering walls;
Raise freedom's flag, sound the trumpet of war.
Poles, will you bend to the yoke of the Czar?
Think of Suwarrow,—of Prague's mouldering walls;
Raise freedom's flag, sound the trumpet of war.
Vengeance! to arms! Sobieski! the word;
Vengeance! to arms! on, ye Polanders, on!
Hurl from your plains, with the might of your sword,
Backward the Russ and the Cossack of Don.
Vengeance! to arms! on, ye Polanders, on!
Hurl from your plains, with the might of your sword,
Backward the Russ and the Cossack of Don.
The Poetical Works of James Gates Percival | ||