VI.
And beside her a Knight the great Bayard had loved,
"Without fear or reproach," lifts her Banner on high;
He stands in the vanguard, majestic, unmoved,
And a thousand firm souls, when that Chieftain is nigh,
Vow, "'tis easy to die!"
VII.
Their swords have gone forth on the fetterless air!
The world's breath is hushed at the conflict! before
Gleams the bright form of Freedom with wreaths in her hair--
And what though the chaplet be crimsoned with gore,
We shall prize her the more!
VIII.
And while Freedom lures on with her passionate eyes
To the height of her promise, the voices of yore,
From the storied Profound of past ages arise,
And the pomps of their magical music outpour
O'er the war-beaten shore.
IX.
Then gird your brave Empress, O! Heroes, with flame
Flashed up from the sword-points that cover her breast,
She is guarded by Love, and enhaloed by Fame,
And never, base Foe! shall your footsteps be pressed
Where her dead Martyrs rest!