<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=539516" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Ode to M E R C Y</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">S T R O P H E.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">O THOU, who sit'st a smiling Bride <br> By Valour's arm'd and awful Side, <br>Gentlest of Sky-born Forms, and best ador'd: <br> Who oft with Songs, divine to hear, <br> Win'st from his fatal Grasp the Spear, <br>And hid'st in Wreaths of Flow'rs his bloodless Sword! <br> Thou who, amidst the deathful Field, <br> By Godlike Chiefs alone beheld, <br>Oft with thy Bosom bare art found, <br>Pleading for him the Youth who sinks to Ground: <br> See, Mercy, see, with pure and loaded Hands, <br> Before thy Shrine my Country's Genius stands, <br>And decks thy Altar still, tho' pierc'd with many a Wound!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A N T I S T R O P H E.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> When he whom ev'n our Joys provoke, <br> The Fiend of Nature join'd his Yoke, <br>And rush'd in Wrath to make our Isle his Prey, <br> Thy Form, from out thy sweet Abode, <br> O'ertook Him on his blasted Road, <br>And stop'd his Wheels, and look'd his Rage away. <br> I see recoil his sable Steeds, <br> That bore Him swift to Salvage Deeds, <br>Thy tender melting Eyes they own; <br>O Maid, for all thy Love to Britain shown, <br> Where Justice bars her Iron Tow'r, <br> To Thee we build a roseate Bow'r, <br>Thou, Thou shalt rule our Queen, and share our Monarch's Throne!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=William+Taylor+Collins">William Taylor Collins</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=539516" data-title="Ode to M E R C Y de William Taylor Collins" data-description="S T R O P H E. O THOU, who sit'st a smiling Bride By Valour's arm'd and awful Side, Gentlest of Sky-born Forms, and best ador'd: Who oft with Songs, divine to hear, Win'st from his fatal Grasp the Spear, And hid'st in Wreaths of Flow'rs h..."></div> </div> </div>

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