⎩
"Away with vain regrets, and useless tears!
One labour more, one final task appears;
From all my joys with calmness to depart,
The last brave effort of a hero's heart:
The smiles of partial Conscience to enjoy,
Since erring Hope no longer can decoy,
And, high on Resolution's pinions borne,
Look down on fate, and all its evils scorn.
Yes—o'er my head whatever sun may roll,
Scorch'd at the line, or freezing at the pole,
Still will I guard, untired, some righteous cause,
Still shield some country's violated laws;
And many a joy, that Christiern cannot taste,
Shall cheer Gustavus thro' misfortune's waste.
Enough for me, with honour to perform
My destined course, and face the allotted storm;
That done, who will may snatch the wreath of fame:
Oblivion, close for ever on my name!
The souls of heroes shall frequent my stone,
In torrents buried, or with moss o'ergrown,
And, while all else forget me, shall proclaim
To kindred spirits their Gustavus' name.
"Ye faithful warriors, fearless hearts, farewell!
Who fought with me, and for your country fell!
O'er your cold dust I wept not; hurrying war
Forbade all pause.—Yet, oh! whatever star,
⎧
⎨
⎩
"Thou too, farewell! my country! since in vain
I strove to snatch thee from the eternal chain;
Thou, of whose glory future tongues shall tell,
Mother of kings and heroes—fare thee well!
What human thought and prudence could sustain,
For thee I proved, and proved that all was vain;
And could my single toils protection give,
Armies might sleep, and Stenon yet might live.
⎧
⎨
⎩