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An Ode, Written October, 1819, Before The Spaniards Had Recovered Their Liberty

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Arise, arise, arise!
There is blood on the earth that denies ye bread;
Be your wounds like eyes
To weep for the dead, the dead, the dead.
What other grief were it just to pay?
Your sons, your wives, your brethren, were they;
Who said they were slain on the battle day?

Awaken, awaken, awaken!
The slave and the tyrant are twin-born foes;

Be the cold chains shaken
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7/24/2021 9:55:53 PM # 1.0.0.663