For, sore dismayed, through storm and shade His child he did discover:-- One lovely hand she stretched for aid, And one was round her lover. "Come back! Come back!" he cried in grief, "Across this stormy water: And I'll forgive your Highland chief, My daughter!--O my daughter!" 'T was vain: the loud waves lashed the shore, Return or aid preventing: The wafers wild went o'er his child, And he was left lamenting. T. Campbell. CCXIV. FALL OF WARSAW. O! sacred Truth! thy triumph ceased awhile, And Hope, thy sister, ceased with thee to smile, When leagued Oppression poured to Northern wars Her whiskered pandours and her fierce hussars, Waved her dread standard to the breeze of morn, Pealed her loud drum, and twanged her trumpet horn; Tumultuous horror brooded o'er her van, Presaging wrath to Poland--and to man! Warsaw's last champion from her heights surveyed, Wide o'er the fields a waste of ruin laid-- O Heaven! he cried, my bleeding country save! Is there no hand on high to shield the brave? Yet, though destruction sweep these lovely plains, Rise, fellow-men! our country yet remains! By that dread name, we wave the sword on high, And swear for her to live!--with her to die! He said; and on the rampart heights arrayed His trusty warriors, few, but undismayed; Firm paced and slow, a horrid front they form, Still as the breeze, but dreadful as the storm; Low, murmuring sounds along their banners fly,-- "Revenge, or death!"--the watchword and reply; Then pealed the notes, omnipotent to charm, And the loud tocsin tolled their last alarm! In vain, alas! in vain, ye gallant few! From rank to rank your volleyed thunder flew;-- O! bloodiest picture in the book of Time, Sarmatia fell, unwept, without a crime; Found not a generous friend, a pitying foe, Strength in her arms, nor mercy in her woe! Dropped from her nerveless grasp the shattered spear, Closed her bright eye, and curbed her high career. Hope for a season bade the world farewell, And Freedom shrieked, as Kosciusko fell! 0 righteous Heaven! ere Freedom found a grave, Why slept the sword, omnipotent to save?