Page:Poems - Sayers (1792).djvu/58
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To cleave the father's and the lover's breast,
These are the only joys a Saxon feels.—
God of my fathers, strike the fell destroyers,
Blunt, blunt their steel, benumb their hardy sinews,
Pour out their tide of life, that peace again
May bless my country.
These are the only joys a Saxon feels.—
God of my fathers, strike the fell destroyers,
Blunt, blunt their steel, benumb their hardy sinews,
Pour out their tide of life, that peace again
May bless my country.
CHORUS.
E'en the gods themselves,
Who dwell above in happiness and glory,
Delight in shining arms and fierce encounter;
From fair Valhalla's courts they rush with joy
To meet each other with their brandish'd blades,
And mix in sportive fight; when battle tires,
Again they seek the feast, and quaff again
From gold-encircled horn the amber mead.
Such is their happy life; and can'st thou wonder
That man should imitate the gods? that man
Who dwell above in happiness and glory,
Delight in shining arms and fierce encounter;
From fair Valhalla's courts they rush with joy
To meet each other with their brandish'd blades,
And mix in sportive fight; when battle tires,
Again they seek the feast, and quaff again
From gold-encircled horn the amber mead.
Such is their happy life; and can'st thou wonder
That man should imitate the gods? that man
Should