Ode on the Report of the Death of General Kosciusko

Ah! is the noble Patriot dead,
That glorious Pole, who, wisely brave,
Oft for his country fought and bled,
And strove her liberties to save: -
Oft, in the blazing front, he dared
The miscreant Russians, undeterred
By their ferocious vassal bands;
And, ardent for his country's weal,
Bathed in their lives his conquering steel,
And gore of slaves defiled his hands.

Plain, in the simple dignity
Of Man, no gorgeous garb he wore -
Dressed like the humble peasantry,
Which still endeared their General more -
With them he every toil sustained,
And whilst one ray of Hope remained,
He urged them FREEDOM to defend;
But, soon, the HERO wounded lies,
Fell Tyranny secures his prize,
And leads in chains his country's friend.

O may the rumour be untrue,
And KOSCIUSKO see, again,
Fair Freedom's banners meet his view,
And rouze to noble deeds his men:
May Despotism, in his grasp,
Convulsed with an expiring gasp,
Yield his dark soul to endless Night -
May Freedom's light on Poland shine,
And every virtue there combine,
That can the Patriot's mind delight.