The day that sees Warsaw’s cathedral glow
With endless ensigns ravished from the foe,—
Her women lifting their fair hands with thanks,
Her pious warriors kneeling in their ranks,
The scutcheoned walls of high heraldic boast,
The odorous altar’s elevated host,
The organ sounding through the aisle’s long glooms,
The mighty dead seen sculptured o’er their tombs;
(John, Europe’s saviour—Poniatowski’s fair
Resemblance—Kosciusko’s shall be there;)