Chapter 424

'Tis distance lends enchantment to the view, And robes the mountain in its azure hue.

Line 359.

O Heaven! he cried, my bleeding country save.

Line 381.

Hope for a season bade the world farewell, And Freedom shrieked as Kosciusko fell!

* * * * *

O'er Prague's proud arch the fires of ruin glow, His blood-dyed waters murmuring far below.