Iv

Proud Remnant was he of a fearless Race, Who stood and flourished face to face With their perennial hills;--but Crime, Hastening the stern decrees of Time, Brought low a Power, which from its home Burst, when repose grew wearisome; And, taking impulse from the sword, And, mocking its own plighted word, Had found, in ravage widely dealt, Its warfare's bourn, its travel's belt!