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Like a servant of the Lord, with his Bible and his sword,
your ranks; For Rupert never comes but to conquer or to fall. They are here! They rush on! We are broken! We are gone!
25 Our left is borne before them like stubble on the blast, O Lord, put forth thy might ! O Lord, defend the right ! Stand back to back, in God's name, and fight it to the last. Stout Skippon hath a wound; the centre hath given ground : Hark! hark !—What means the trampling of horsemen on our rear ?
30 Whose banner do I see, boys ? 'Tis he, thank God, 'tis he,
boys. Bear up another minute : brave Oliver is here. Their heads all stooping low, their points all in a row, Like a whirlwind on the trees, like a deluge on the dykes, Our cuirassiers have burst on the ranks of the Accurst, 35 And at a shock have scattered the forest of his pikes. Fast, fast, the gallants ride, in some safe nook to hide Their coward heads, predestined to rot on Temple Bar : And he-he turns, he flies :-shame on those cruel eyes That bore to look on torture, and dare not look on war. 40
Ho! comrades, scour the plain ; and, ere ye strip the slain,
lockets, The tokens of the wanton, the plunder of the poor. Fools! your doublets shone with gold, and your hearts were gay and bold,
kissed your lily hands to your lemans to-day ; And to-morrow shall the fox, from her chambers in the rocks, Lead forth her tawny cubs to howl above the prey. Where be your tongues that late mocked at heaven and hell
and fate, And the fingers that once were so busy with your blades, 50 Your perfumed satin clothes, your catches and your oaths, Your stage-plays and your sonnets, your diamonds and your
spades? Down, down, for ever down with the Mitre and the Crown, With the Belial of the Court, and the Mammon of the Pope; There is woe in Oxford Halls; there is wail in Durham's Stalls :
55 The Jesuit smites his bosom: the Bishop rends his cope. And She of the seven hills shall mourn her children's ills, And tremble when she thinks on the edge of England's
sword; And the kings of earth in fear shall shudder when they hear What the hand of God hath wrought for the Houses and the Word.
60 Lord Macaulay. CCVI
While the dawn on the mountain was misty and gray,
He has doffed the silk doublet the breast-plate to bear, 5
is renown, -
Brown, With the Barons of England, that fight for the Crown ? Now joy to the crest of the brave Cavalier ! Be his banner unconquered, resistless his spear, Till in peace and in triumph his toils he may drown In a pledge to Fair England, her Church, and her Crown.
Sir Walter Scott.
THE BATTLE OF THE BALTIC.
Of Nelson and the North
Like leviathans afloat
25 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,
35 Light the gloom. Out spoke the victor then, As he hailed them o'er the wave : "Ye are brothers! ye are men ! And we conquer but to save :
40 So peace instead of death let us bring ; But yield, proud foe, thy fleet, With the crews, at England's feet, And make submission meet To our King.'
Then Denmark blessed our chief,
Now joy, Old England, raise
On Linden, when the sun was low,
Of Iser, rolling rapidly.