Thou to whom its fires are given,
Joyously thy car hath roll’d
Where the conqueror’s pass’d of old;
And the festal sun that shone
O’er three hundred triumphs gone,[377]
Makes thy day of glory bright
With a shower of golden light.
Now thou tread’st th’ ascending road
Freedom’s foot so proudly trode;
While, from tombs of heroes borne,