I. <br />Ye batter down the lion's den, <br />But yet the lordly beast g'oes free; <br />And ye shall hear his roar again, <br />From mountain height, from lowland glen, <br />From sandy shore and reedy fen-- <br />Where'er a band of freeborn men <br />Rears sacred shrines to liberty. <br /> <br />II. <br /> <br />The serpent scales the eagle's nest, <br />And yet the royal bird, in air, <br />Triumphant wins the mountain's crest, <br />And sworn for strife, yet takes his rest, <br />And plumes, to calm, his ruffled breast, <br />Till, like a storm-bolt from the west, <br />He strikes the invader in his lair. <br /> <br />III. <br /> <br />What's loss of den, or nest, or home, <br />If, like the lion, free to go;-- <br />If, like the eagle, wing'd to roam, <br />We span the rock and breast the foam, <br />Still watchful for the hour of doom, <br />When, with the knell of thunder-boom, <br />We bound upon the serpent foe! <br /> <br />IV. <br /> <br />Oh! noble sons of lion heart! <br />Oh! gallant hearts of eagle wing! <br />What though your batter'd bulwarks part, <br />Your nest be spoiled by reptile art-- <br />Your souls, on wings of hate, shall start <br />For vengeance, and with lightning-dart, <br />Rend the foul serpent ere he sting! <br /> <br />V. <br /> <br />Your battered den, your shattered nest, <br />Was but the lion's crouching-place;-- <br />It heard his roar, and bore his crest, <br />His, or the eagle's place of rest;-- <br />But not the soul in either breast! <br />This arms the twain, by freedom bless'd, <br />To save and to avenge their race!<br /><br />William Gilmore Simms<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sumter-in-ruins/
