BOOK I.

The Swede I sing, by Heaven ordain'd to save

His country's glories from a Danish grave,

Restore her laws, her Papal rites efface,

And fix her freedom on a lasting base.

Celestial Liberty! by whom impell'd

From early youth fair honour's path he held;

By whose strong aid his patient courage rose

Superior to the rushing tide of woes,

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And at whose feet, when Heaven his toils repaid,

His brightest wreaths the grateful hero laid:

Me too assist; with thy inspiring beam

Aid my weak powers, and bless my rising theme!

Stockholm to Christiern bow'd her captive head;

By Treachery's axe her slaughter'd senate bled,

And her brave chief was numbered with the dead.

Piled with her breathless sons, th' uncultured land

With daily ravage fed a wasteful band;

And ruthless Christiern, wheresoe'er be flew,

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