BOOK THE TENTH.
373
There, elevate, the Martial Maiden stood.
Her brow unhelmed, and floating on the wind
Her long dark locks. The silent troops around 70
Stood thickly throng'd, as o'er the fertile field
Billows the ripen'd corn. The passing breeze
Bore not a murmur from the numerous host,
Such deep attention held them. She began.
Her brow unhelmed, and floating on the wind
Her long dark locks. The silent troops around 70
Stood thickly throng'd, as o'er the fertile field
Billows the ripen'd corn. The passing breeze
Bore not a murmur from the numerous host,
Such deep attention held them. She began.
"Glory to those who in their country's cause 75
Fall in the field of battle! Citizens,
I stand not here to mourn these gallant men,
Our comrades, nor with vain and idle phrase
Of pity and compassion, to console
The friends who loved them. They, indeed, who fall 80
Beneath Oppression's banner, merit well
Our pity; may the God of Peace and Love
Be merciful to those blood-guilty men
Who came to desolate the realm of France,
To make us bow the knee, and crouch like slaves, 85
Before a tyrant's footstool! Give to these,
Fall in the field of battle! Citizens,
I stand not here to mourn these gallant men,
Our comrades, nor with vain and idle phrase
Of pity and compassion, to console
The friends who loved them. They, indeed, who fall 80
Beneath Oppression's banner, merit well
Our pity; may the God of Peace and Love
Be merciful to those blood-guilty men
Who came to desolate the realm of France,
To make us bow the knee, and crouch like slaves, 85
Before a tyrant's footstool! Give to these,
"And
