Classic Poem

Long look'd-for comes at last . — Th' unfreezing pole
Beaks her bald eagle , and awakes to soul!
O'er trackless wilds, with snow-surmounting feet,
Roads to bought blows, the furry veteransbeat;
But arm'd for stipend , not allied , but paid ,
The moving market , sells its martial aid .
So modern prudence , waging war by tale ,
O'er sense of praise bids sense of price prevail;
Nor fame, nor faith, nor vengeance, move supply ,
For glorious subsidy we live, and die.
Bribes battling bribes , embroil each bleeding coast,
And he, who buys his valour, triumphs most.
O! soul of Peter ! now sustain thy fame ;
No venal muster mock'd thy dreaded name ;
From death's dark hall, to days dimm'd prospect rise,
O'er thy chang'd country roll thy guardian eyes .
Round the flow legions , gleam thy aweful shade ,
With Dantzic 's bloody banners , high display'd:
March 'em to meet French fire , there, quench'd before ,
And tread it out, in blood , to blaze no more.