Still, in that hour, the warrior wish'd to strew Self-gather'd laurels on a self-sought grave; But Charles' protecting genius hither flew, The monarch's friend, the monarch's hope, to save. 19. Trembling, she snatch'd him [10] from th' unequal strife, In other fields the torrent to repel; For nobler combats, here, reserv'd his life, To lead the band, where godlike FALKLAND [11] fell. 20. From thee, poor pile! to lawless plunder given, While dying groans their painful requiem sound, Far different incense, now, ascends to Heaven, Such victims wallow on the gory ground. 21. There many a pale and ruthless Robber's corse, Noisome and ghast, defiles thy sacred sod; O'er mingling man, and horse commix'd with horse, Corruption's heap, the savage spoilers trod. 22. Graves, long with rank and sighing weeds o'erspread, Ransack'd resign, perforce, their mortal mould: From ruffian fangs, escape not e'en the dead, Racked from repose, in search for buried gold. 23. Hush'd is the harp, unstrung the warlike lyre, The minstrel's palsied hand reclines in death; No more he strikes the quivering chords with fire, Or sings the glories of the martial wreath. [iii] 24. At length the sated murderers, gorged with prey, Retire: the clamour of the fight is o'er; Silence again resumes her awful sway, And sable Horror guards the massy door. 25. Here, Desolation holds her dreary court: What satellites declare her dismal reign! Shrieking their dirge, ill-omen'd birds resort, To flit their vigils, in the hoary fane. 26. Soon a new Morn's restoring beams dispel The clouds of Anarchy from Britain's skies; The fierce Usurper seeks his native hell, And Nature triumphs, as the Tyrant dies. 27. With storms she welcomes his expiring groans; Whirlwinds, responsive, greet his labouring breath; Earth shudders, as her caves receive his bones, Loathing [12] the offering of so dark a death. 28. The legal Ruler [13] now resumes the helm, He guides through gentle seas, the prow of state; Hope cheers, with wonted smiles, the peaceful realm, And heals the bleeding wounds of wearied Hate. 29. The gloomy tenants, Newstead! of thy cells, Howling, resign their violated nest; [iv] Again, the Master on his tenure dwells, Enjoy'd, from absence, with enraptured zest. 30. Vassals, within thy hospitable pale, Loudly carousing, bless their Lord's return; Culture, again, adorns the gladdening vale, And matrons, once lamenting, cease to mourn. 31. A thousand songs, on tuneful echo, float, Unwonted foliage mantles o'er the trees; And, hark! the horns proclaim a mellow note, The hunters' cry hangs lengthening on the breeze. 32.