Ode, on the Fourteenth of July

The red arm of slaughter is stretch'd o'er the plain, But Liberty springs from the blood of the slain; Base tyranny trembles, and cruelty fails, As bright to the world she her standard unveils; To the earth's utmost verge shall her power extend, And her smile the hard reign of oppression shall end.

On this day remember the black fabric fell, By tyrants invented, curst emblem of hell; Where hid from the light, and confin'd from the air, Consum'd the pale victims of frantic despair; Where anguish, unpitied, was heard to complain, And innocence suffer'd the wheel and the chain.

'Tis past, and on adament records shall stand The day that shed light on the gloom of the land, While gratitude loudly to fame shall proclaim, With heart proudly swelling, each patriot name, Who, fearless of danger, rush'd on to secure That Freedom which Heaven decrees shall endure.

Who fall in this cause, are translated on high, Where glory prepares them rewards in the sky; The turf which enwraps them, shall oft be bedew'd With the tears of the beauteous, the brave, and the good; Sensibility breathing her incense divine, Round their urns shall th' laurel unfading entwine.

Thy cause, sacred freedom, shall ever succeed, While patriots have bosoms to feel and to bleed; Not a tear-drop for self shall e'er rush to their eye, For their Country they fight, and for Liberty die; Pursue then, ye heroes, the glorious plan, Which gives to the People the true Rights of Man.