CCXIV WHEN I have be new emobling thoughts depart HEN I have borne in memory what has tamed When men change swords for ledgers, and desert some fears unnamed I had, my Country !—am I to be blamed? Of those unfilial fears I am ashamed. For dearly must we prize thee; we who find What wonder if a Poet now and then, W. Wordsworth CCXV HOHENLINDEN N Linden, when the sun was low, And dark as winter was the flow Of Iser, rolling rapidly. But Linden saw another sight, When the drum beat at dead of night snow; By torch and trumpet fast array'd To join the dreadful revelry. Then shook the hills with thunder riven; But redder yet that light shall glow 'Tis morn; but scarce yon level sun Can pierce the war-clouds, rolling dun, Where furious Frank and fiery Hun Shout in their sulphurous canopy. The combat deepens. On, ye Brave And charge with all thy chivalry! Few, few shall part, where many meet! Shall be a soldier's sepulchre. T. Campbell CCXVI AFTER BLENHEIM T was a summer evening, IT Old Kaspar's work was done, And by him sported on the green She saw her brother Peterkin Roll something large and round Which he beside the rivulet In playing there had found; He came to ask what he had found That was so large and smooth and round. Old Kaspar took it from the boy Who stood expectant by ; And then the old man shook his head, And with a natural sigh "T is some poor fellow's skull,' said he, 'Who fell in the great victory.' "I find them in the garden, For there's many here about; And often when I go to plough The ploughshare turns them out. For many thousand men,' said he, "Were slain in that great victory.' 'Now tell us what 't was all about,' Young Peterkin he cries; And little Wilhelmine looks up 'It was the English,' Kaspar cried, 'My father lived at Blenheim then, Yon little stream hard by ; They burnt his dwelling to the ground, And he was forced to fly : So with his wife and child he fled, Nor had he where to rest his head. 'With fire and sword the country round Was wasted far and wide, And many a childing mother then And new-born baby died : But things like that, you know, must be At every famous victory. 'They say it was a shocking sight After the field was won ; For many thousand bodies here Lay rotting in the sun : But things like that, you know, must be After a famous victory. 'Great praise the Duke of Marlbro' won And our good Prince Eugene ;' 'Why 't was a very wicked thing!' Said little Wilhelmine; ‘Nay . . nay . . my little girl,' quoth he, 'And every body praised the Duke 'Why that I cannot tell,' said he, 'But 't was a famous victory.' R. Southey WE CCXVII PRO PATRIA MORI HEN he who adores thee has left but the name O! say wilt thou weep, when they darken the fame Yes, weep, and however my foes may condemn, For, Heaven can witness, though guilty to them, With thee were the dreams of my earliest love; But the next dearest blessing that Heaven can give T. Moore |