He called aloud, "Say, father, say, He knew not that the chieftain lay "Speak, father!" once again he cried, And but the booming shots replied, Upon his brow he felt their breath, And looked from that lone post of death In still, yet brave despair; And shouted but once more aloud, "My father! must I stay?" While o'er him, fast, through sail and shroud, The wreathing fires made way. They wrapped the ship in splendor wild, They caught the flag on high, And streamed above the gallant child, Like banners in the sky. There came a burst of thunder sound; With mast, and helm, and pennon fair, But the noblest thing that perished there, Felicia Dorothea Hemans [1793-1835] HOHENLINDEN [DECEMBER 3, 1800] ON 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, By torch and trumpet fast arrayed Then shook the hills with thunder riven; But redder yet that light shall glow 'Tis Shout in their sulphurous canopy. And charge with all thy chivalry! Few, few shall part, where many meet! Thomas Campbell [1777-1844] BATTLE OF THE BALTIC [APRIL 2, 1801] OF Nelson and the North, Sing the glorious day's renown, All the might of Denmark's crown, And her arms along the deep proudly shone; By each gun the lighted brand, In a bold determined hand, And the Prince of all the land Led them on. Like leviathans afloat, Lay their bulwarks on the brine; It was ten of April morn by the chime: But the might of England flushed And her van the fleeter rushed O'er the deadly space between. "Hearts of oak!" our captain cried; when each gun From its adamantine lips Spread a death-shade round the ships, Like the hurricane eclipse Of the sun. Again! again! again! And the havoc did not slack, Till a feeble cheer the Dane To our cheering sent us back;— Their shots along the deep slowly boom: Then ceased-and all is wail, As they strike the shattered sail; Or, in conflagration pale, Light the gloom. Outspoke the victor then, As he hailed them o'er the wave: "Ye are brothers! ye are men! And we conquer but to save: So peace instead of death let us bring. Then Denmark blessed our chief, As death withdrew his shades from the day; O'er a wide and woful sight, Where the fires of funeral light Died away. Now joy, Old England, raise! Whilst the wine-cup shines in light; Let us think of them that sleep, Full many a fathom deep, By thy wild and stormy steep, Brave hearts! to Britain's pride Once so faithful and so true, On the deck of fame that died;- With the gallant good Riou: Soft sigh the winds of Heaven o'er their grave! While the billow mournful rolls, And the mermaid's song condoles, Of the brave! Thomas Campbell [1777-1844] THE FIGHTING TÉMÉRAIRE [OCTOBER 21, 1805] It was eight bells ringing, For the morning watch was done, And the gunner's lads were singing As they polished every gun. It was eight bells ringing, And the gunner's lads were singing, For the ship she rode a-swinging, As they polished every gun. Oh! to see the linstock lighting, Oh! to see the linstock lighting, It was noontide ringing, And the battle just begun, When the ship her way was winging, As they loaded every gun, It was noontide ringing, When the ship her way was winging, And the gunner's lads were singing, As they loaded every gun. There'll be many grim and gory, Téméraire ! Téméraire ! With the Fighting Téméraire. |