Heavens! can no ray of foresight pierce the leads
And mystic metaphysics of your heads,
To show the self-same grave, Oppression delves
For Poland’s rights, is yawning for yourselves!
See, whilst the Pole, the vanguard aid of France,
Has vaulted on his barb and couched the lance,
France turns from her abandoned friends afresh,[88]
And soothes the Bear that prowls for patriot flesh,
Buys, ignominious purchase! short repose,
With dying curses and the groans of those