And oh, fair France! though now the traveller sees Thy three-striped banner fluctuate on the breeze;[177] Though martial songs have banished songs of love, And nightingales desert the village grove, [178] 615 Scared by the fife and rumbling drum's alarms, And the short thunder, and the flash of arms; That cease not till night falls, when far and nigh, Sole sound, the Sourd [Gg] prolongs his mournful cry! [179] --Yet, hast thou found that Freedom spreads her power 620 Beyond the cottage-hearth, the cottage-door: All nature smiles, and owns beneath her eyes Her fields peculiar, and peculiar skies. Yes, as I roamed where Loiret's waters glide Through rustling aspens heard from side to side, 625 When from October clouds a milder light Fell where the blue flood rippled into white; Methought from every cot the watchful bird Crowed with ear-piercing power till then unheard; Each clacking mill, that broke the murmuring streams, 630 Rocked the charmed thought in more delightful dreams; Chasing those pleasant dreams, [180] the falling leaf Awoke a fainter sense [181] of moral grief; The measured echo of the distant flail Wound in more welcome cadence down the vale; 635 With more majestic course the water rolled, And ripening foliage shone with richer gold. [182] --But foes are gathering--Liberty must raise Red on the hills her beacon's far-seen blaze; Must bid the tocsin ring from tower to tower!-- 640 Nearer and nearer comes the trying hour! [183] Rejoice, brave Land, though pride's perverted ire Rouse hell's own aid, and wrap thy fields in fire: Lo, from the flames a great and glorious birth; As if a new-made heaven were hailing a new earth! [184] 645 --All cannot be: the promise is too fair For creatures doomed to breathe terrestrial air: Yet not for this will sober reason frown Upon that promise, not the hope disown; She knows that only from high aims ensue 650 Rich guerdons, and to them alone are due. [185] Great God! by whom the strifes of men are weighed In an impartial balance, give thine aid To the just cause; and, oh! do thou preside Over the mighty stream now spreading wide: [Hh] 655 So shall its waters, from the heavens supplied In copious showers, from earth by wholesome springs, Brood o'er the long-parched lands with Nile-like wings! And grant that every sceptred child of clay Who cries presumptuous, "Here the flood shall stay," [186] 660 May in its progress see thy guiding hand, And cease the acknowledged purpose to withstand; [187] Or, swept in anger from the insulted shore, Sink with his servile bands, to rise no more! [188]