ODE
TO
LIBERTY
.
BY
MR.
HUDSON
.
THE
sable
queen
of
shades
retires
,
Encircled
with
her
fading
fires
;
Yok'd
to
her
iron
car
,
the
dragons
fly
,
With
slow
wing
blackening
many
a
league
of
sky
.
Go
,
melancholy
goddess
,
go
,
Nurse
of
despondency
and
woe
.
'Tis
time
:
the
cock's
shrill
clarion
calls
The
dawn
,
and
strikes
the
prowling
wolf
with
fear
,
And
bids
the
phantoms
disappear
,
That
glimmer
'midst
yon
mouldering
walls
:
They
startle
at
the
sound
,
And
gliding
o'er
the
trackless
ground
,
Loth
,
to
their
marble
mansions
haste
away
.
No
more
their
livid
lightnings
play
:
The
terrors
of
aërial
tumults
cease
,
Hush'd
to
serenity
and
smiling
peace
.
For
,
lo
!
in
heaven's
ambrosial
bowers
,
Wak'd
by
the
stationary
hours
,
Parent
of
day
,
the
morn
unveils
her
eyes
,
And
vermeil
blushes
streak
the
orient
skies
:
How
nature
triumphs
at
the
sight
,
Renew'd
in
all
her
beauty
bright
!
Her
fragrant
groves
their
incense
yield
;
The
zephyrs
,
from
her
humid
stores
,
diffuse
The
sweetness
of
mellifluous
dews
;
And
pleasure
paints
the
lillied
field
.
Here
,
gilt
with
splendid
rays
,
The
spires
and
lofty
turrets
blaze
;
There
the
canals
reflect
a
pleasing
gleam
;
While
dancing
down
the
pebbly
stream
The
silver
radiance
chears
the
feather'd
throng
,
Woods
,
hills
,
and
dales
re-echo
with
their
song
.
Thus
,
like
the
morn
,
will
fairest
Freedom
come
,
In
majesty
divine
,
With
dawning
glory
to
disperse
the
gloom
Of
dire
Oppression
;
and
illume
the
mind
To
darkness
and
despondency
confin'd
.
Arise
,
O
Liberty
!
'tis
thine
The
charms
of
nature
to
refine
;
With
blooming
hope
and
harmony
to
please
,
To
crown
with
plenty
,
and
to
bless
with
ease
,
To
light
up
awful
Virtue's
living
ray
,
And
pour
the
flood
of
intellectual
day
.
Place
me
in
Afric's
desert
lands
,
Where
Thirst
sits
gaping
on
the
sands
;
If
there
auspicious
Freedom
fix
her
seat
,
'Midst
burning
blasts
,
I'll
hail
the
rude
retreat
;
Soon
shall
the
wild
,
more
polish'd
grown
,
Admire
new
beauties
,
not
her
own
:
Sage
Industry
shall
dig
the
well
Capacious
,
yawning
many
a
fathom
deep
;
While
lowing
herds
,
and
bleating
sheep
,
Stand
frequent
in
the
cooling
cell
:
Soon
shall
the
mantling
vine
Be
taught
around
the
palm
to
twine
;
And
social
arts
the
stranger
Naiads
wake
,
That
sleep
beneath
the
distant
lake
,
Curious
to
view
young
Commerce
gayly
roam
,
And
bring
full
harvests
to
his
barren
home
.
Place
me
beneath
the
gelid
zone
,
Near
winter's
adamantine
throne
,
Where
farthest
ocean
foams
with
icy
roar
Along
the
bleak
,
inhospitable
shore
:
If
Freedom
to
the
smoky
dome
With
fur-cloath'd
mortals
deign
to
roam
;
Thro'
snowy
wastes
the
dome
I'll
seek
:
What
hinders
to
enjoy
the
freezing
year
!
For
Property
will
there
appear
;
And
chearful
Health
,
with
rosy
cheek
,
Pursue
the
panting
prey
;
Or
,
mindful
of
the
lengthen'd
day
,
Sit
chaunting
on
the
mountain's
chrystal
brow
,
Where
hanging
torrents
shine
below
;
Nor
will
Cimmerian
Sleep
forget
to
bring
Safe
slumbers
,
waving
at
his
downy
wing
.
Come
then
,
Celestial
,
let
thy
wish'd
return
This
happier
clime
serene
;
This
happier
clime
,
if
Rome
thy
absence
mourn
,
No
more
with
smiles
of
pleasure
entertains
,
Nor
Baia's
groves
,
nor
rich
Campania's
plains
:
Heartless
we
view
the
splendid
scene
Of
turrets
,
and
the
painted
green
;
Heartless
the
music
of
the
groves
we
hear
,
As
when
,
new
harness'd
out
by
Wrath
and
Fear
,
Night's
chariot
moves
in
storms
;
and
thunders
hurl'd
Roll
their
broad
terrors
round
the
groaning
world
.