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Fierce Discord thunders, and the hills reply Hoarse echoing-trembles earth, and shakes the From host to host gigantic Terror strides, [sky. And darts chill horror through the bravest
breast: Grim Death amid the ranks in triumph rides, And calls Hell's hungry bloodhounds to the
feast. Dissolved are Honour's, Friendship’s, Nature's ties; See, by the brother's sword the brother dies! , See, mute with horror, writhed with anguish, there
Bent o'er his murder'd son the gory sireLooking some dreadful thought in stern despair ; Then with self vengeance on the corse expire!
Here fell Revenge around Turns her keen eye to find her hated foe; Full at his heart she drives the desperate blow,
And turns thé' envenom'd weapon in the wound. Wide Desolation o'er the weeping plains,
Rushing with wasteful sway,
Sweeps the rich product of the year away.
· Sights of horror, sounds of woe, Mark the dire progress of the victor foe! The harden'd soldier looks relentless on, And shouts triumphant o'er the expiring groan. There, from his snowy waste and frozen skies,
The ravening Russian eagle flies, And swiftly shooting from his airy way
Pounces on his trembling prey...
The Polish peasant sees the flames invade
Where whilom to his nut-brown maid
He told his tales of love,
Staggering with age and care;
And pining in his fond embrace,
To God ascend the lays
In sounds of sacred praise,
To pay the solemn vow,
In heavenly bowers above,
Then back with horror starts. ' . There Superstition sits in idol state, To kneeling trembling crowds denouncing fate, Far beaming rays her flaming brows infold; Her beauteous outside gorgeous all with gold: Her inward form, by art in vain conceald, To his keen eye the fiend of hell reveald. Now in dread majesty sublime she stands, And wields the three-fork'd thunder in her hands;
Now to thick shades and cheerless gloom retires,
Sighs of sorrow, sullen moans,
Doleful shrieks, and dying groans, And hell's own horrors fill the affrighted fane.
Swords, axes, racks bestrew the purpled floor;
A madding rout around
REV, H. MOORE.
No terrors haunt the well concerting mind Sayst thou, when March unchains the midnight
When the full blast, as Alp-descending Po
When from each bursting cloud the arrowy flame
No terrors haunt thee!-Lo, 'tis Winter's reign:
Still art thou proof ?-In sleep I see thee laid : Dreams, by the past inspired, thy sleep invade. Houseless and drear a plain expands in view : There travels one like him thy fury slew : Couch'd in the brake, a ruffian from his den Starts forth, and acts thy bloody deed again : Like thine his mien, like thine his iron stare Fix'd in defiance on the vault of air. Lo! as secure he quits the unplunder'd dead, Wide-weltering seas of fire before him spread; With frenzied step he hurries to the shore, Shrieks, plunges headlong, and is seen no more! · Thou wakest, and smilest in scorn!-Has Hea
ven no dart Potent to reach that adamantine heart? Yes. He, whose viewless gales the forest bend, Whose feeblest means attain the mightiest end,