Chapter LXIV

Say, how shall he regain it, when 'twas giv'n
With broken vow, apostatizing breath?
How stand erect, how look to the bright Heav'n,
Cloth'd in the darkness of that moral death?
Her rights down trod, her star-lit banner rent,
O! where could Freedom find an armament?
How gather, in their glory and their pride,
Her own grey father-band, who, for her, nobly died.