ACHMED’s RESOLVE.
 
SHALL I, because a TYRANT’s will
Condemns my life to woe;
The purport of his wish fulfil,
And fall his VICTIM?—No!
 
No, I’ll ne’er sink beneath the stroke
Thus aim’d against my joy:
’Tis mine the sentence to revoke,
When TREACHERY would destroy.
 
And now, escaped from tyrant rage,
In SOLITUDE I rest:
Thy love, O NATURE! shall assuage
The tumults of the breast.
 
Unstain’d with falshood—free from crime,
And arm’d with strength of mind;
My Heart’s a FORTRESS—POWER and TIME
Impregnable shall find.
 
Assault ye FIENDS of earth and hell,
Your legions—all combine:
’Gainst JUSTICE, FREEDOM, HEAVEN, rebel:
The victory shall be mine.
 
It is decreed—No mortal might
The sentence can withstand;
Where HONOR, FAITH, and TRUTH unite,
Against the Oppressor’s hand.
 
Adversity, and Bonds, or DEATH,
Dread Power! shall not prevail;
Tho’ HE arrest the fleeting breath
And spread the dusty veil.
 
These in the dark and silent tomb
Shall ne’er dejected lie;
But spurning the inglorious doom,
Shall rising soar on high:
 
Look down on tyrant rage below;
On earth’s contracted clod:
And bid the tear of PITY flow,
For those estrang’d from GOD.