The frank Westmanian's generous heart shall glow,
And join the sterner Goth to crush the foe.
Bid him his standard in mid Sweden rear,
And check th' oppressor in his fell career:
Say, that, impatient of unjust command,
Indignant Denmark spurns him from her land!
He builds a lofty tower; the basis stands
Fix'd in the stormy ocean's moving sands:
The turrets in unstable grandeur rise,
The baseless fabric shoots into the skies,
Soon shall the glories of the ponderous hall
Come thundering down, to crush him in their fall!

"Cheer'd with this hope let gallant Vasa raise
His daring soul, to meet immortal praise.
Graced with hereditary virtue shine,
And vindicate the glories of his line.
From age to age that generous line shall reign,
'And sons succeeding sons the lasting race sustain.'"

The mighty seraph ceas'd. While thus he said,
Without a sigh, the old man's spirit fled.
Ere yet, enfranchis'd, thro' the air it past,
On the lov'd youth one parting look it cast,
And gazed on Sweden, then, no more confined,
Soar'd thro' the clouds, and mingled with the wind.
Th' angelic power his sacred arm applied
To push the vessel o'er the yielding tide,
And swifter than the eagle's noon-day flight
It flew: while, melting from the dazzled sight,