Bounds o'er the buoyant wave, and climbs the applauding shore.
So, towering Alp! from thy majestic ridge
Young Freedom gazed on Lodi's blood-stain'd Bridge;
Saw, in thick throngs, conflicting armies rush,
Ranks close on ranks, and squadrons squadrons crush;
Burst in bright radiance through the battle's storm,
Waved her broad hands, display'd her awful form;
Bade at her feet regenerate nations bow,
And twin'd the wreath round Buonaparte's brow.
—Quick with new lights, fresh hopes, and alter'd zeal,