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1. O sacred Truth! thy triumph ceased, a while,
And Hope, thy sister, ceased with thee to smile,
When leagued Oppression poured to Northern wars
Her whiskered pandoors and her fierce hussars,
Waved her dread standard to the breeze of morn,
Pealed her loud drum, and twanged her trumpet-horn;
Tumultuous horror brooded o'er her van,



Presaging wrath to Poland-and to man!

Warsaw's last champion from her height surveyed, Wide o'er the fields, a waste of ruin laid,

O Heaven! he cried,—my bleeding country save!
Is there no hand on high to shield the brave?
Yet, though Destruction sweep those lovely plains,
Rise, fellow-men! our country yet remains !
By that dread name we wave the sword on high!
And swear for her to live with her to die!

He said, and on the rampart heights arrayed
His trusty warriors, few, but undismayed.
Firm-paced and slow, a horrid front they form,
Still as the breeze, but dreadful as the storm.
Low murmuring sounds along their banners fly,
Revenge or death-the watchword and reply;
Then pealed the notes omnipotent to charm,
And the loud tocsin tolled their last alarm !-

4. In vain, alas! in vain, ye gallant few!
From rank to rank your volleyed thunder flew ;
Oh! bloodiest picture in the book of Time,
Sarmatia fell, unwept, without a crime;



Found not a generous friend, a pitying foe,
Strength in her arms, nor mercy in her woe!

Dropped from her nerveless grasp the shattered spear, Closed her bright eye, and curbed her high career:— Hope, for a season, bade the world farewell,

And Freedom shrieked-as KOSCIUSKO fell!

The sun went down, nor ceased the carnage there,
Tumultuous murder shook the midnight air—
On Prague's proud arch the fires of Ruin glow,
His blood-dyed waters murmuring far below.
The storm prevails, the rampart yields a way,
Bursts the wild cry of horror and dismay!
Hark! as the smouldering piles with thunder fall,
A thousand shrieks for hopeless mercy call!
Earth shook-red meteors flashed along the sky,
And conscious Nature shuddered at the cry!

Departed spirits of the mighty dead!
Ye that at Marathon and Leuctra bled,

Friends of the world! restore your swords to man,
Fight in her sacred cause, and lead the van!

Yet for Sarmatia's

tears of blood atone,

And make her arm

puissant as your own! Freedom's cause return

Oh! once again to

The patriot TELL the BRUCE of Bannockburn.


SUMMARY.-Truth is here apostrophised by the poet on the downfall of Poland after a gallant struggle. Hope is represented as the sister of Truth, and both are said to be grieved at the result. The last defence of Warsaw was led by Kosciusko, who fell a victim to his love of country. He arrayed his little army, who were not dismayed although few in number, but their efforts were all in vain. Poland, which is here described as Sarmatia, was overpowered, and Freedom is represented as shrieking at her fall. The fifth verse contains a striking picture of the horrors of war, when fire and bloodshed are let loose upon the land. In the last verse the poet again uses the figure of apostrophe with fine effect in his appeals to the departed spirits of the mighty dead.

Leagued Oppression-In 1772, Prussia, Austria, and Russia dismembered Poland, and divided the greater portion of it among themselves. A small part was reserved for Poland, but a second dismemberment took place in 1793, when the three allied powers divided the remaining provinces between them; and what remained of Poland was finally divided between these countries in 1795.

Pandoors.--Hungarian foot-soldiers, in the Austrian service, so called from Pandur, a village in Hungary, where they were at first raised.

Poland-Lay to the east of Prussia.

Warsaw The capital of Poland, on the River Vistula.

Warsaw's Champion-General Kosciusko, who, in 1795, heading a small body of patriots, made a stand for the liberties of his illfated country,

Tocsin-A public alarm-bell,

Sarmatia-Anciently comprised Tartary in Asia, Russia, Prussia, and Poland. Here it is put for Poland alone.

Prague-properly Praga, a suburb of Warsaw, on the right bank of the Vistula. This place has no connection with Prague

the capital of Bohemia. Marathon-A plain in Greece. It lay to the north-east of Athens. Here the Athenians, under their celebrated leader, Miltiades, completely routed a very superior force of the Persians, B.C. 490. Leuctra-Lay to the west of Thebes, in Greece. It was noted for the complete overthrow of the Lacedemonians by the Thebans, under Epaminondas.

Car-nage, slaughter.
Curbed, checked, restrained.
Om-nip-o-tent, all-powerful.
Pa-tri-ot, lover of his country.

Pre-sag-ing, forecasting.
Pu-is-sant, strong, powerful.
Ram-part, wall for defence.
Triumph, victory.


When was Poland overthrown? By whom? Who led the defence? What was his fate? When was he overcome? Give in your own words the substance of his address

to his soldiers. What happened after nightfall? In what way does the poet speak of truth? Hope? Freedom? Who are apostrophised in the last verse?

EXERCISES.-1. Parse and analyse-A thousand shrieks for hopeless mercy call.

2. Adjectives are formed from nouns by adding id, ile, ine, ish, which mean "belonging to;" as liquor, liquid; infant, infantile; canis (a dog), canine; Scot. Scottish. In the same way make adjectives from the following-sap, host, serpent, England. Make interrogative sentences to show the use of these words.

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[SAMUEL ROGERS (b. 1763, d. 1855) was the son of a London banker. In company with his father he carried on the banking business for some years. He began to write at an early age, and in 1792 he published his most famous work, the "Pleasures of Memory." In the following year his father died, leaving him an ample fortune. In 1822 he published his longest poem, "Italy," after which he wrote very little. His poems are marked by great refinement, which was characteristic of the man.]

1. If thou should'st ever come to Modena,
Stop at a palace near the Reggio Gate,
Dwelt in of old by one of the Orsini.
Its noble gardens, terrace above terrace,
And rich in fountains, statues, cypresses,
Will long detain you; but, before you go,
Enter the house-prithee, forget it not,
And look awhile upon a picture there.
'Tis of a lady in her earliest youth;
She sits inclining forward, as to speak,
Her lips half open, and her finger up,

As though she said "Beware!"-her vest of gold,
Broidered with flowers, and clasped from head to foot,
An emerald stone in every golden clasp ;

And on her brow, fairer than alabaster,
A coronet of pearls. But then her face,
So lovely, yet so arch, so full of mirth,
The overflowings of an innocent heart,
It haunts me still, though many a year has fled,
Like some wild melody! Alone it hangs
Over a mouldering heirloom, its companion
An oaken chest, half-eaten by the worms.

2. She was an only child; from infancy
The joy, the pride of an indulgent sire,
Her mother dying of the gift she gave―

The precious gift, what else remained to him?
The young Ginevra was his all in life.
Still, as she grew, for ever in his sight,
She was all gentleness, all gaiety,

Her pranks, the favourite theme of every tongue.
But now the day was come, the day, the hour;
And in the lustre of her youth she gave
Her hand, with her heart in it, to Francesco.

3. Great was the joy; but at the bridal feast, When all sat down, the bride was wanting thereNor was she to be found! Her father cried, ""Tis but to make a trial of our love !"


And filled his glass to all; but his hand shook,
And soon from guest to guest the panic spread;
"Twas but that instant she had left Francesco,
Laughing and looking back, and flying still,
Her ivory tooth imprinted on his finger.
But now, alas! she was not to be found,
Nor from that hour could anything be guessed,
But that she was not!

Weary of his life, Francesco flew to Venice, and forthwith Flung it away in battle with the Turk. Orsini lived; and long might'st thou have seen An old man wandering as in quest of something, Something he could not find he knew not what. When he was gone, the house remained awhile Silent and tenantless-then went to strangers.

5. Full fifty years were passed and all forgot,
When on an idle day, a day of search
'Mid the old lumber in the gallery,

That mouldering chest was noticed; and 'twas said
By one as young, as thoughtless as Ginevra,


Why not remove it from its lurking place?"
'Twas done as soon as said; but on the way
It burst-it fell; and, lo! a skeleton;
With here and there a pearl, an emerald stone,

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