lie,
it only gs, the fatal hour,
your blood shall, with incessant cry,
awake at st, th' unsparing power;
as from the cliff, with thundering course,
the snowy ruin smokes along
with doubling speed and gathering force,
till deep it, crushing, whelms the cottage in the vale;
so vengeance' arm, ensanguin'd, strong,
shall with resistless might assail,
usurping brunswick's pride shall y,
and stewart's wrongs and yours, with tenfold weight repay.
perdition, baleful child of night!
rise and revehe injured right
of stewart's royal race
Birthday Ode For 31st December, 1787(3/5)