The energies of thy despair!
No!—when thy chain, O Bruce! is cast
O’er thy land’s charter’d mountain-blast,
Then in my yielding soul shall die
The glorious faith of Liberty!”
“Wild hopes! o’er dreamer’s mind that rise!”
With haughty laugh the Conqueror cries,
(Yet his dark cheek is flush’d with shame,
And his eye fill’d with troubled flame;)
“Vain, brief illusions! doom’d to fly