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Then slaves to no ferond chief, no despot unseen,
We love the brave monarch who fights by our side
And, eager to be where our hero has been,
Pursue his high footsteps through victory's tide!
Thus one sires o'er the white head of Carpathus soatd,
And humbled the crescent on Thracia's plains
Bade the might of Propontis bow low to their sword,
And crush'd the vain pride of the warrior Danes.
O'er Germany rich with the spoils of the East
We triumph'd, and planted the bounds of our sway,
Where the columns of old Boleslaus are placed,
Now beaming with trophies, more glorious than they:
Beyond where the streams of Borysthenes wander,
O'er Volga our progress of glory we held;
We pass'd by the shrines of the stern Alexander,
And the North-wind enthroned in his palace beheld.
Oe'r the dark waves of Danube our standards have flown,
O'er oceans congeal'd by the Boreal star,
And the masterless tribes of Melotes, o'erthrown,
Have proved the sore ills of Sarmatia's war!
Who shall now lead the sons to the deeds of their sires?
By whom shall our standard again be unfurl'd?
Oh Liberty! smile on each monarch's desires,
And humble thy brown to the prayers of the world.
And freedman aids with the might of his plea;
Since her future protector the universe loves,
And those smilest to hear her demand him of thee:
To the first brave Jagellon in glory allied,
May he prove the last Sigismund doubly his sire!
Oh! 'tis just in the power of the future he hide
Its truths from the bard, when he swaps the
full lyre!
All hail, Ladislaus! whom Poland obeys,
The hope of the wants the belov'd of the sky:
Her strata of warriors their thunder-peals raise,
And her people in army to the plaudits reply;
thousand bright lances are waving to meet thee,
Hill, valley, and forest with victory ring;
to Vistula mounts from the waters to greet thee,
And the proud head of Carpathus bows to his king.
, what shall they deeds be, when festive November
Shall pass, and restore thee to conquest and fight
How thy soul teems with deeds for all time to remember
And already on victory's height!
Thy spirit flies forward its new fame to meet,
And the spring-smiles of luxury court thee in vain –
With wisdom's slow victory skill'd to defeat,
Or from thy swift host, like a sea, on the plain.
Thus the sons of Jagellon once blossom'd in glory,
The dread and the praise of the foe they subdued,
While the youth, catching fire at each warrior story,
The dazzling exploits of his ancestors view'd,
Till envy, eclips'd by his merits alone,
Grew tired with success, and exhausted by fame,
Till he flew o'er the heights that his father had flown,
And left but to follows the
and from grandure bequeath'd,
Glory and Peace their twin laurels entwine;
For thy brow, like thy sire's, is with victory wreath'd,
And thy ancestor's milder effulgence is thine.
The smiles of success shall but shew thee more fair,
And affliction but root thee more deep in the vale;
For Poland hath pray'd, and her patriot prayer
Is stamp'd by the fates with eternity's seal!
Lib. IV. Od. XVIII
Quotannis Kal. Janȕ D. Virginis caput coronaturus.
Siderum saoros imitata vultus, &c.
Those, whose cup and eye of fire
Imitate the starry choir,
Left thy graceful head on high
Daughter of the genial sky.
Wake! the Zephyr calls thee forth,
He has chased the rigid North;
Snow, and closed, and wintry war
Fleet before his joyous car.
Deem not with thy circlet fair
To adorn some maiden's hair;
Too divinely pure art thou
For unconsecrated brow:
Round no mortal charms to twine,
Those best fitted for a shrine;
Thou shalt bind the locks that flow
O'er Round the virgin's brow of snow.
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Identifier: | JB/110/067/003 "JB/" can not be assigned to a declared number type with value 110.
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1823-11-08 |
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110 |
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067 |
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003 |
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correspondence |
4 |
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recto |
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172 |
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36057 |
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