When the keen axe remorseless laid
The woods of E DGECOMBE low,
Lest now their leafy skreen should aid
The approaches of the foe;

Astonish'd from their dark retreats
The frantic Dryads rove,
And E CHO shrieks of woe repeats
Through all the wasted grove:

" Must we," they cry, " so long who dwelt
" On this wave-cinctur'd steep,
" Who each rude blast unshrinking felt
" That heaves the A TLANTIC deep,

" Must we forsake these solemn shades
" To distant regions driven,
" Or view expos'd our forest glades
" To every beam of heaven? —

" But ah! what horrid scenes are these! —
" L O B OURBON 's hostile train
" Here spread their canvas to the breeze,
" And darken half the main:

" B RITANNIA 's bloody cross no more
" Aloft triumphant flies,
" For see by this insulted shore
" The G ALLIC lilies rise!

" Speed then, oh speed your eager toil!
" And on this lofty steep
" Tear every sapling from the soil
" And launch them on the deep.

" To you we sisters of the wood
" At once our charge resign,
" Ye sea-green daughters of the flood,
" Old O CEAN 's N EREID line.

" So shall they to this threaten'd place
" A barrier firm extend,
" And shores their shade was wont to grace,
" Their thunder shall defend."