Imagens das páginas
PDF
ePub

Hence learn, 'tis not the prowess'd might
Of man, the contest can decide;
Severely walking 'mid the fight,

A heav'nly champion mocks thy pride.
HE withers the presumptuous arm;

He nerves the weak with powerful charm ;

Then, striding the fell cannon's sulph'rous flame, Directs the wasteful shot, and triumphs in thy shame.

"Here Moore th' intrepid legion led,”

The kindling invalid will cry,

Here Oakes and daring Paget bled,

Determin' honour in each eye;

"Here Hope, regardless of his maim,

Pursu'd the sanguine step of fame;

And here, slow life long-welling from his wound, 'nalterably brave was Abercrombie found."

Nor mortal anguish could o'ercast,
Nor languor stoop, his stately mien ;
'Till the victorious charge was past,
Still mounted, dreadfully serene.
Then, as the last explosion fir'd,

The last drop from his heart retir'd;

And, Sense forsaking her accustom'd scat,

Well satisfied he own'd the glorious work complete.

[blocks in formation]

While Malta, 'mid her knights renown'd,
Receives one nobler stranger more,
With less untainted laurels crown'd
Than e'er her best defender bore;
Say, will his grateful country raise
No public tribute to his praise?

No lasting monument for years to come;
Such as old Athens gave, or more exalted Rome?

Oh, yes! where to the warrior-saint*
Yon temple's shapely pillars rise,
In chisel'd flint, or breathing paint,
His martial front shall glad our eyes.
Though Superstition's frown austere
May gloom to mark a soldier there,
Religion will adopt with purer grace

One memorable chief than all the monkish race.

Nor here his bounded honours end :

See royal Fred'rick'st downcast eye
Confess the tutor and the friend,
Such loss unable to supply.
Copartner in each dire campaign
That ravag'd Flandria's fatal plain,

* St. Paul.

+ The Duke of York.

One gen'rous tear he drops, to merit due:

So wept Ulysses' son when Mentor's form withdrew.

His learned youth divinely fed
With honey from the Attic hive,
See princely Moira droop the head,
To every finer pang alive;
In camp or court alike decreed

By wit or valour to succeed,

Yet still from courtly adulation free, Unbiass'd by applause, a second Sydney he.*

When the last echo of the song
Decays on Time's impassive ear,
(As some lone abbey's vaults among,
We oft th' imperfect whisper hear,)
Ev'n then will virtue's self descend,
The dusty veil of darkness rend;
And where thy mutilated statue lies,

Direct congenial minds,—the brave, the good, the

wise.

* Sir Philip Sydney, the patron of Spenser.

SECOND ODE.

LET no unmanly plaint presume
To vex the manes of the brave,
No fond tear taint the laureat bloom
That waves upon the warrior's grave.
The softness of a sighing verse

May breathe o'er some inglorious hearse
Plum'd with the idle pomp of pride;
But Fame herself anneals in blood
The records of the great and good
Who boldly for a nation died.

Hush'd be each weaker voice of woe;
The hoarse drum's military sound;
The solemn ordnance, pealing slow.-
The martial horse, with trophies crown'd,
And marching in sad state along,
With downcast look the soldier-throng,
Shall more the hero's worth declare

Than aught the weeping muse could bring ;

Though Rapture, soothing cold Despair, Should smite the animated string.

Oh! as the mourning car triumphant moves
To lodge thy chieftain with the mighty dead,
Britannia, whom th' unwilling world approves,
Yet, yet sublimer lift thine aweful head.
Let no dim cloud obscure thy radiant brow:
For still unnumber'd godlike sons remain,
To bid each foreign host before thee bow,
And scatter to the winds their tinsel train;
To sweep the envious spoiler far away

From thy imperial breast, and vindicate thy sway.

Blest isle! the forest oak is thine,
And thine the iron-hearted steed:
Still foremost in th' embattled line,
Thy dauntless offspring dare to bleed;
Of hardy frame, and generous soul,
Whom no degrading fears control,
Nor less for milder graces known;
The liberal thought, the melting mind,
By sweet humanity refin'd,

And beauteous arts, are all thy own.

While at the helm an Addington presides, Protects thy commerce, and to glory guides.

When fiercest the hot contest glows,
What alien courage shall oppose

« AnteriorContinuar »