The Poetical Works of Ebenezer Elliott Edited by his Son Edwin Elliott ... A New and Revised Edition: Two Volumes |
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A SONG IN EXILE. |
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 | The Poetical Works of Ebenezer Elliott |  |
A SONG IN EXILE.
Yes, with groans my lyre is strung;
Tears, from Poland's ruin wrung,
Flow in music from my tongue,
Poland's tears and Liberty's.
Tears, from Poland's ruin wrung,
Flow in music from my tongue,
Poland's tears and Liberty's.
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England saw our setting sun!
Britons! was it wisely done?
You gave Warsaw to the Hun!
Why not London, Englishman?
Britons! was it wisely done?
You gave Warsaw to the Hun!
Why not London, Englishman?
Lo! while Russia's iron tread,
Where we fell or whence we fled,
Shakes the dust of Poland's dead!
Europe trembles guiltily!
Where we fell or whence we fled,
Shakes the dust of Poland's dead!
Europe trembles guiltily!
Tyrant! twice we overthrew
Hordes of thine, to tyrants true!
Twice we smote and twice we slew,
Recreant France! thy conquerors.
Hordes of thine, to tyrants true!
Twice we smote and twice we slew,
Recreant France! thy conquerors.
Yet, with us was Europe sold;
Gaul's delay, and England's gold,
Frighted France and Britain cold,
Bribed the Goth to purchase her.
Gaul's delay, and England's gold,
Frighted France and Britain cold,
Bribed the Goth to purchase her.
Poland fell—and they may fall,
Crush'd on Freedom's funeral pall;
But the Lord is Lord of all;
Thou, O Father, tremblest not!
Crush'd on Freedom's funeral pall;
But the Lord is Lord of all;
Thou, O Father, tremblest not!
Hopeless, homeless, do we roam?
Be Revenge our hope and home!
Thoughts that quench, in gory foam,
Moscow's fiery funeral!
Be Revenge our hope and home!
Thoughts that quench, in gory foam,
Moscow's fiery funeral!
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By Polonia's gory sod!
Dig thou wide, Polonia's God,
Dig thou deep, where freemen trod,
Russia's grave and Tyranny's.
Dig thou wide, Polonia's God,
Dig thou deep, where freemen trod,
Russia's grave and Tyranny's.
| The Poetical Works of Ebenezer Elliott | |