The Rhode Island Republican

From the Bangor Republican,

POLAND.

The noblest blood in human veins,
The Russian foe has shed;
And cover'd all Samatia's plain,
With multitudes of dead.

Weep not, ye Brave, shed not a tear,
For Poland's slaughter'd band;
For Fame their glorious deeds shall bear
To earth's remotest strand,

And weep for those who live to bow
Beneath the Russian yoke;
Weep for Sarmatia's hopes laid low;
Weep, for her strength is broke.

Weep, for the Tyrant's banner waves
O'er vanquish'd Warsaw's walls;
Weep, for the hireling Tartar slaves
Are feasting in her halls.

Weep, for Europe's Tyrants shout,
While patriots clank their chains:
"Again are FREEDOM'S fires put out,
And DESPOTISM reigns?"

Weep, England, weep, thy wreaths are shorn,
Which lately deck'd thy brow;
Weep, for thy laurels all are torn;
Thy palms are faded now.

When hapless Poland stretch'd her hands
To Albion's sons for aid;
Where were her many warlike bands,
In hostile steel array'd?

And where has Gallia's spirit flown?
Where are her noble sons,
Who hurl'd a Despot from his throne?
Why sleep her valiant ones?

But why lament? the strife is pass'd;
Our hopes for Poland fly,
Like scatter'd leaves, when Autumn's blast
Sweeps o'er the azure sky.

Yet, let not Russia's Monarch boast;
For soon the time may be,
When, all his power forever lost,
Sarmatia will be FREE!

MARO.