William McCarty, comp. The American National Song Book. 1842.
Ode to the Spirit of KosciuskoDavid Macbeth Moir (17981851)
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Unwept and unlamented die?—
Shall he, whom bonds could not enthral,
Who plann’d, who fought, who bled for all,
Unconsecrated lie?
Without a song, whose fervid strains
Might kindle fire in patriot veins!—
Ordains to thee a brighter lot;
While earth—while hope endures, thy name,
Pure, high, unchangeable, the same,
Shall never be forgot;
’Tis shrined amid the holy throng;
’Tis woven in immortal song!—
The ardent poet of the free,
Has painted Warsaw’s latest day,
In colours that resist decay,
In accents worthy thee;
Thy hosts on battle-field array’d,
And in thy grasp the patriot blade!
And sacred should his relics be,
Whose course no selfish aims bedim;
Who, spotless as the seraphim,
Exerts his energy,
To make the earth by freemen trod,
And see mankind the sons of God!
Through thy devoted country’s night,
The latest of a freeborn line,
With all that purity to shine,
Which makes a hero bright;
With all that lustre to appear,
Which freemen love and tyrants fear.
Which broke before its cause was won!
Thou, to no sordid fears betray’d,
Mid desolation undismay’d,
Wert mighty, though undone;
No terrors gloom’d thy closing scene,
In danger and in death serene!
And left the blotted lands beneath,
In purer, happier realms to dwell;
With Wallace, Washington, and Tell,
Thou sharest the laurel wreath—
The Brutus of degenerate climes!
A beacon-light to other times!