1811 6

Previous Poem    -    Next Poem

To France

“R. A. D.”
[Richard Arthur Davenport][1]
The Poetical Register and Repository of Fugitive Poetry, VI (1811), p. 170

Detested land! such deep and deadly hate
    As once to Rome the Punic hero swore
I vow to thee! O! were but mine the fate
    Over thy pale and trembling plains to pour
The tempest of the battle, and to crush
    In dust forever all thy vaunting pride,
Impetuous to the glorious task I'd rush,
    Terror, Despair, Destruction, by my side!
Nor do I hate thee, France, for this alone,
    That thou from age to age thyself has shown
For to the realm that rules the subject waves;
    But that thy sons, detested land! are still
A race accurst, prone to extremes of ill;
    Blood-drinking tyrants, or dust-licking-slaves!



1. Richard Arthur Davenport, miscellaneous writer, began his writing career at an early age. He wrote on a variety of subjects and his prose and poetry appeared frequently in the periodicals of the day.

Previous Poem    -    Next Poem