And their pennons wave by the mountain-stream,
And their plumes to the glad wind float.
“Cease awhile, clarion! &c.
“I am here with my heavy chain!
And I look on a torrent sweeping by,
And an eagle rushing to the sky,
And a host to its battle-plain!
Cease awhile, clarion! &c.
“Must I pine in my fetters here?
With the wild wave’s foam, and the free bird’s flight,