1.5 



SON OF THE STRANGER. 



Son of the stranger, whence and wher«. 

 With thine eyes of fierce despair ? 

 Whither bent, and \Yho art thou ? — 

 The dog- star's gloom is on thy brow ! 



Camest thou from Moslem's soil. 

 Where liberty is bondsman's coil ? 

 Where Freedom was, but is not now ?^ 

 The stamp of Fame is on thy brow ! 



Stranger, bringest thoii from far 

 The blade whose flash was seen in war ? 

 An arm that, nerv'd 'gainst tyrants' vow. 

 Own' St the briofht manhood of thv brow ? 



Wilt thou stand by freedom's cause. 

 Despite the Muscovite's applause ? 

 And wilt thou hail avenging w'ar 

 With thy patriot heart — from far ? 



Thy Father Land ! Whence camest thou 

 Poland's glory plumes thy brow ! 

 Doubly dear thy clime to me — 

 A curse on Calmuc tyranny ! 



Thy words are few — thou speakest not — 

 Has England Poland's throes forgot ? 

 Will martial France — that victim state — 

 Not say to thee — " Arise ! Awake !" 



Alas for Freedom and her sons. 

 Whose glory midnights Wellington's : 

 Alas for bald-head tyranny — 

 The heartless pride of victory. 



Where are your vagrant Caesars now — 

 The chiefs of Greece, with laurelled brow? 

 All shrunk into a shameful pass — 

 Not thine — not thine — Leonidas ! 



No : thine should ever seem to be 

 The heaven below of victory. 

 Cambyses never tried his hand 

 In war upon old Parga's strand. 

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