Ode to Eloquence Heard ye those loud-contending waves, That shook Cecropia's pillar'd state? Saw ye the mighty, from their graves, Look up, and tremble at her fate? Who shall calm the angry storm? Who the mighty task perform, And bid the raging tumult cease? See the son of Hermes rise, With siren tongue, and speaking eyes, Hush the noise, and soothe to peace! See the olive branches, waving O'er Ilissus' winding stream, Their lovely limbs the Naiads laving, The Muses smiling by, supreme! See the nymphs and swains advancing, To harmonious measures dancing: Grateful Io Paeans rise To thee, O Power! who can inspire Soothing words — or words of fire, And shook thy plumes in Attic skies! Lo! from the regions of the north, The reddening storm of battle pours, Rolls along the trembling earth, Fastens on the Olynthian towers. "Where rests the sword? — where sleep the brave? Awake! Cecropia's ally save From the fury of the blast: Burst the storm of Phocis' walls! Rise! or Greece for ever falls; Up! or Freedom breathes her last." The jarring states, obsequious now, View the patriot's hand on high; Thunder gathering on his brow, Lightning flashing from his eye. Borne by the tide of words along, One voice, one mind, inspire the throng: "To arms! to arms! to arms!" they cry; "Grasp the shield, and draw the sword; Lead us to Philippi's lord; Let us conquer him, or die!" Ah, Eloquence! thou wast undone; Wast from thy native country driven, When Tyranny eclipsed the sun, And blotted out the stars of heaven! When Liberty from Greece withdrew, And o'er the Adriatic flew To where the Tiber pours his urn — She struck the rude Tarpeian rock, Sparks were kindled by the stroke — Again thy fires began to burn! Now shining forth, thou madest compliant The conscript fathers to thy charms, Roused the world-bestriding giant, Sinking fast in Slavery's arms. I see thee stand by Freedom's fane, Pouring the persuasive strain, Giving vast conceptions birth: Hark! I hear thy thunder's sound Shake the Forum round and round, Shake the pillars of the earth! First-born of Liberty divine! Put on Religion's bright array: Speak! and the starless grave shall shine The portal of eternal day! Rise, kindling with the orient beam, Let Calvary's hill inspire the theme, Unfold the garments roll'd in blood! Oh, touch the soul — touch all her chords With all the omnipotence of words, And point the way to heaven — to God! |
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