My heart has sighed in secret, when I thought That the dark tide of time might one day close, England, o'er thee, as long since it has closed On Egypt and on Tyre: that ages hence, From the Pacific's billowy loneliness, Whose tract thy daring search revealed, some isle Might rise in green-haired beauty eminent, And like a goddess, glittering from the deep, Hereafter sway the sceptre of domain From pole to pole; and such as now thou art, 10 Perhaps NEW-HOLLAND be.

For who shall say What the OMNIPOTENT ETERNAL ONE, That made the world, hath purposed! Thoughts like these, Though visionary, rise; and sometimes move A moment's sadness, when I think of thee, My country, of thy greatness, and thy name, Among the nations; and thy character,-- Though some few spots be on thy flowing robe,-- Of loveliest beauty: I have never passed Through thy green hamlets on a summer's morn, 20 Nor heard thy sweet bells ring, nor seen the youths And smiling maidens of thy villages, Gay in their Sunday tire, but I have said, With passing tenderness--Live, happy land, Where the poor peasant feels his shed, though small, An independence and a pride, that fill His honest heart with joy--joy such as they Who crowd the mart of men may never feel! Such, England, is thy boast.

When I have heard The roar of ocean bursting 'round thy rocks, 30 Or seen a thousand thronging masts aspire, Far as the eye could reach, from every port Of every nation, streaming with their flags O'er the still mirror of the conscious Thames,-- Yes, I have felt a proud emotion swell That I was British-born; that I had lived A witness of thy glory, my most loved And honoured country; and a silent prayer Would rise to Heaven, that Fame and Peace, and Love And Liberty, might walk thy vales, and sing 40 Their holy hymns, while thy brave arm repelled Hostility, even as thy guardian cliffs Repel the dash of that dread element Which calls me, lingering on the banks of Thames, On to my destined voyage, by the shores Of Asia, and the wreck of cities old, Ere yet we burst into the wilder deep With Gama; or the huge Atlantic waste With bold Columbus stem; or view the bounds Of field-ice, stretching to the southern pole, 50 With thee, benevolent, lamented Cook! Tyre be no more! said the ALMIGHTY voice: But thou too, Monarch of the world,[173] whose arm Rent the proud bulwarks of the golden queen Of cities, throned upon her subject seas, ART THOU TOO FALL'N?
The whole earth is at rest: "They break forth into singing:" Lebanon Waves all his hoary pines, and seems to say, No feller now comes here; HELL from beneath 60 Is moved to meet thy coming; it stirs up The DEAD for thee; the CHIEF ONES of the earth, Tyre and the nations, they all speak and say-- Art thou become like us! Thy pomp brought down E'en to the dust! The noise of viols ceased, The worm spread under thee, the crawling worm To cover thee! How art thou fall'n from heaven, Son of the morning! In thy heart thou saidst, I will ascend to Heaven; I will exalt My throne above the stars of God! Die--die, 70 Blasphemer! As a carcase under foot, Defiled and trodden, so be thou cast out! And SHE, the great, the guilty Babel--SHE Who smote the wasted cities, and the world Made as a wilderness--SHE, in her turn, Sinks to the gulf oblivious at the voice Of HIM who sits in judgment on her crimes! Who, o'er her palaces and buried towers, Shall bid the owl hoot, and the bittern scream; And on her pensile groves and pleasant shades 80 Pour the deep waters of forgetfulness.
On that same night, when with a cry she fell, (Like her own mighty idol dashed to earth,) There was a strange eclipse, and long laments Were heard, and muttering thunders o'er the towers Of the high palace where his wassail loud Belshazzar kept, mocking the GOD OF HEAVEN, And flushed with impious mirth; for BEL had left With sullen shriek his golden shrine, and sat, With many a gloomy apparition girt, 90 NISROCH and NEBO chief, in the dim sphere Of mooned ASTORETH, whose orb now rolled In darkness:--They their earthly empire mourned; Meantime the host of Cyrus through the night Silent advanced more nigh; and at that hour, In the torch-blazing hall of revelry, The fingers of a shadowy hand distinct Came forth, and unknown figures marked the wall, Searing the eye-balls of the starting king: Tyre is avenged; Babel is fall'n, is fall'n! 100 Bel and her gods are shattered! PRINCE, to thee Called by the voice of God to execute His will on earth, and raised to Persia's throne, CYRUS, all hearts pay homage.

Touched with tints Most clear by the historian's magic art, Thy features wear a gentleness and grace Unlike the stern cold aspect and the frown Of the dark chiefs of yore, the gloomy clan Of heroes, from humanity and love 110 Removed: To thee a brighter character Belongs--high dignity, unbending truth-- Yet Nature; not that lordly apathy Which confidence and human sympathy Represses, but a soul that bids all hearts Smiling approach.

We almost burn in thought To kiss the hand that loosed Panthea's chains, And bless him with a parent's, husband's tear, Who stood a guardian angel in distress To the unfriended, and the beautiful, 120 Consigned a helpless slave.