Then soon returning to your native isle,
May love and beauty hail you with their smile;
For you may conquest weave th’ undying wreath,
And fame and glory’s voice the song of rapture breathe!
Ah! when shall mad ambition cease to rage?
Ah! when shall war his demon-wrath assuage?
When, when, supplanting discord’s iron reign,
Shall mercy wave her olive-wand again?
Not till the despot’s dread career is closed,
And might restrain’d and tyranny deposed!