Maxioms by Thomas Campbell
The prophet's mantle, ere his flight began,
Dropt on the world--a sacred gift to man.
The prophet's mantle, ere his flight began,
Dropt on the world--a sacred gift to man.
'Twas sung, how they were lovely in their lives,
And in their deaths had not divided been.
'Twas sung, how they were lovely in their lives,
And in their deaths had not divided been.
Hope for a season bade the world farewell,
And Freedom shrieked as Kosciusko fell!
. . . read more
Hope for a season bade the world farewell,
And Freedom shrieked as Kosciusko fell!
. . . .
O'er Prague's proud arch the fires of ruin glow.
To bear is to conquer our fate.
To bear is to conquer our fate.
