A Wreath Of Sonnets (8/14)
Where tempests roar and nature is unkind:
Such was our land since Samo's rule had passed
With Samo's spirit - now an icy blast
Sweeps o'er his grave reft from the nation's mind.
Our fathers' bickerings let Pepin bind
His yoke upon us, then came thick and fast
Bloodstained revolts and wars, the Turk at last -
With woes our history is deeply lined.
Our age of glory needs must disappear
When deeds of valour ceased in our past state
And triumphs that our songs could celebrate.
The flowers on our Parnassus shyly rear
Their heads - the flowers that have been spared by fate:
They were all fed on many a plaint and tear.
