The New Hampshire Gazette

Poetry.
The Spanish Patriot's Song.

Hark! I hear ye those sounds that the winds on their pinions,
Exultingly roll from the shore to the sea;
With a voice that resounds through the boundless dominions,
'Tis Columbia calls on her sons to be free.
Behold on yon summits where Heaven has thron'd her,
How she starts from her proud inaccessible seat:
With nature's impregnable ramparts around her,
And the cataract's thunder and foam at her feet.
In the breeze of the mountain her loose locks are shaken,
While the soul-stirring notes of the warrior's song :
From the rock to the valley re-echo "Awaken!
Awaken ye hearts who have slumbered too long."
Yes, despots! too long did your tyranny hold us,
In a vassalage vile ere its weakness was known;
Till we learned that the links of the chain that controul'd us,
Were forg'd by the fears of its captives alone.
That spell is destroy'd, and no longer availing,
Despised as detested—pause well 'ere ye dare
To cope with a people whose spirit and feeling,
Is roused by REMEMBRANCE and steeled by DESPAIR.
Go tame the wild torrent—or stem with a straw
The proud surges that sweep o'er the strand that confines them ;
But presume not again to give freemen a law,
Nor think with the chains they have broken to bind them.
To hearts that the spirit of Liberty flashes,
Resistance is idle, and numbers a dream ;
They burst from control as the mountain stream rushes,
From its fetters of ice in the warmth of the beam.