Page:Zinzendorff and Other Poems.pdf/93

Of mutilated kings, who glean'd their meat
'Neath Agag's table, add the name of Rome.
—Turn Austria! iron-brow'd and stern of heart,
And on his monument, to whom thou gav'st
In anger, battle, and in craft a bride,
Grave Austerlitz, and fiercely turn away.
—As the rein'd war-horse snuffs the trumpet-blast,
Rouse Prussia from her trance with Jena's name,
And bid her witness to that fame which soars
O'er him of Macedon, and shames the vaunt
Of Scandinavia's madman.
                                            From the shades
Of letter'd ease, Oh Germany! come forth
With pen of fire, and from thy troubled scroll
Such as thou spread'st at Leipsic, gather tints
Of deeper character than bold romance
Hath ever imag'd in her wildest dream,
Or history trusted to her sibyl-leaves.
—Hail, lotus crown'd! in thy green childhood fed,
By stiff-neck'd Pharaoh, and the shepherd kings,
Hast thou no tale of him who drench'd thy sands
At Jaffa and Aboukir? when the flight
Of rushing souls went up so strange and strong
To the accusing Spirit?
                                      Glorious Isle!
Whose thrice enwreathed chain, Promethean like
Did bind him to the fatal rock, we ask
Thy deep memento for this marble tomb.
—Ho! fur-clad Russia! with thy spear of frost,
Or with thy winter-mocking Cossack's lance,
Stir the cold memories of thy vengeful brain,
And give the last line of our epitaph.