When hostile elements with rage
resound,
And fury blindly fans wars
lurid flame,-
When in the strife of party quarrel
drowned,
The voice of justice no regard
can claim,-
When crime is free, and impious
hands are found
The sacred to pollute, devoid
of shame,
And loose the anchor which the state
maintains,-
No subject there we find for joyous
strains.
But when a nation, that its flocks
still feeds
With calm content, nor others
wealth desires
Throws off the cruel yoke neath
which it bleeds,
Yet, een in wrath,
humanity admires,-
And, een in triumph, moderation
heeds,-
That is immortal, and our
song requires.
To show thee such an image now is
mine;
Thou knowest it well, for all thats
great is thine!
© e-libr.com
feedback