Imagens das páginas
PDF
ePub

THE BATTLE OFF TRAFALGAR.
Tune-The Fight off Camperdown.

[From the Lewes Journal.]
IN Fame's high temple still the first, shall England's prowess
And Nelson's great achievements reach to ev'ry distant land;
Nor from its zenith shall his star of glory ere decline,
Till the bright regent of the day on earth no more thall fhine.
O&ober the nineteenth it was, the fleets of France and Spain,
From Cadiz port fail'd forth, and vow'd to triumph o'er the

main They thought their mighty force combin'd was such as none

could beat, And that the world muft foon fubmit to this united Aeet, . Soon was the news to Nelson fent, that off Trafalgar Cape He might attack the enemy who wisi'd his power to 'scape; “ My brave companions lend your aid, and then will Nelson

show What British seamen can perform against their country's foe. " Quick man your yards, and set your fails, and not a

moment waste, Bear for the Straits, for see the wind is shifted to the west." With his commands his gallant crews most readily complied, And early on the twenty-first the hostile ensigns spied. Mark now where like a crescent form'd, the combin'd feet

is clos'd, And in two columns bearing down the British line oppos’d; Tremendous soon commenc'd the fight, from twelve to four

o'clock, And then the enemy retir’d, nor could endure the shock. Of thirty-three large ships of war, the French and Spanish

boaft, Nineteen receiv'd the victor's flag, and one in sight was lost; But nine return'd again to port with terror and dismay, And show'd what havoc Nelson made on that illustrious day

Bu

VOL. X

But Nelson, though Old England's pride, by fage experience

crown'd,
Long ere the battle ceas'd its rage, receiv'd a mortal wound;
“ Fight bravely on, my tars," he cried ; “ I thank the gra.

cious Pow'rs;
For though I die, I die affur'd that victory is ours."
Oh, may the British nation still revere her Nelson's name,
And future naval chiefs arise to emulate his fame,
And may they lio'rally reward her gallant hero's race,
And bid fair Sculpture o'er his duft the noblest trophies place!

S

[ocr errors]

Qu

The following beautiful Epitaph is afcribed to the Hon.

Baron Smythe, of Dublin.
TO THE MEMORY OF LORD NELSON.
UI latuere diu Galli, fociique trementes,

Vix tandem egreili portu, delentur in ævum :
Empta sed ah! nimium capite Victoria caro;
Fletibus atque piis mesti niaduere triumphi :
Extinétum belli fulmen lugete Britanni!
En fparfit moriens fata intra fulgura Bronte !

IMITATED.
While dazzling honours crown the deathless name,
Of George's navy-and of Nelson's tame,
With gen'rous grief her triumph Britain hears,
And quenches balf her glory in her tears:
Mourns her loft Bronte's * heaven-imparted fires :
Refftiefs bolt of war--who, while he blafts, expires !

THE MONODY OF MERTON.

i [From the Morning Chronicle.] ARK! dark as the night is the fadowy gloom,

O Merton ! that hangs on thy desolate plain; And dire is the breath on the gale from the tomb,

That tells thee Horatio in battle is sain,

DARKA

* Bronte, derived from the Greek, fignifies Jove's thunderbolt lightning

For

For, scarce from thiy quiet retreat had he flown,

With a patriot ardour his country to save Ere trumpets proclaim that the day is his own

Ere lutes fadly murmur-he sinks to the grave.
Loud, loud may the nation its gratitude speak,

And solemn procefsions his manes attend !
But mute be the feeling that moistens your cheek!

They mourn for their hero--you figh for your friend.
Ah, Merton! fu fain'd in our annals of old!

Where the outworks of freedom by Britons were won ; How your fires from their heav'n of bliss must behold

That the fabric they plann'd is preserv'd by your fon *! For, Merton! he made thee the seat of the brave,

And often thy echoes with rapture have rung, When, soften'd, pure Wandle, by thy limpid wave,

The praises of valour by beauty were fung. “ Ah! give me, dear Merton,” the hero would say,

“ My ebb-tide of life in thy shelter to live; With the friends of my heart in thy meadows to stray,

Is the brightest reward that my country can give to
But, alas ! now thy cloisters may moulder away;

Unseen may thy willows bend over the wave!
Reviv*d by his splendour, you rose into day;
Re-plung'd into night, as he funk to the grave !

J.P.

TRIBUTE TO THE MEMORY OF LORD

NELSON,

BY H. TRESHAM.

L ET meaner mortals seek from breathing stone

To make their valour and their virtues known;
Or, vain of wealth, Egyptian-like, display
Colossal piles exempt from time's decay;
Nelson, enshrin’d in ev'ry feeling heart,
Smiles at the fplendour of recording art.

* The Statutes of Merton were passed in the abbey adjoining Lord Viscount Nelson's house.

+ A literal quotation from a letter written by the noble Lord a few days before his laft glorious but fatal battle.

Nor

Nor Parian quarries, nor Corinthian ore,
Ranfack'd to grace Britannia's trophied fhore,
Can shed new lustre on the hero's name,
Who greatly fell, to raise his country's fame:
In death how glorious !-To the victor's eyes
The captur'd fleets in grand succession rise;
Iberia bending from her iron coast,
Shrieks to behold her floating bulwarks lost;
And vanquilli'd Gaul, flern ocean's late delight,
Invokes the tempest to protect her flight.,
Grief drowus the theme !—too frail the minstrel's lyre,
The sculptor's magic, and the painter's fire,
To trace the triumphs to a Nelson given,
When on the verge he paus'd 'twixt earth and heaven,
And faith, and fame, this lofty scroll unfurlid
" His proud memorial—an astonish'd world!!!”

LINES TO LORD NELSON, WITH HIS LORDSHIP'S NIGHT-CAP, THAT CAUGHT FIRE

ON THE POET's BEAD, AS HE WAS READING IN BED

AT MERTON.

BY PETER PINDAR.

TAKE your night-cap again, my good Lord, 1 defire,

For I wis not to keep it a minute;
What belongs to a Nelson, where’er there's a fire,

Is sure to be instantly in it.

MONODY ON THE DEATH OF THE MOST NOBLE MARQUIS

CORNWALLIS *.

[From the British Press.] Finis vitæ ejus nobis luctuosus, amicis tristis, extraneis etiam ignotifque non fine čura fuit. Tacitus. GREAT Cincinnatus from his rural seat,

Where Fame repos'd in Honour's bright retreat,
Where his own laurels form’d the hero's crown,
At once the shade and trophy of renown-

Imperial * This Monody was recited at a meeting of the British inhabitants of Bombay, held at the Court-house, on the 27th of November 1805,

for

Imperial Rome, when menac'd by her foes,
Called to her aid, from dignified repose:
The summons heard, to fame the verran sprung,
Though old in years, in patriot ardour young;-
Of self regardless, when his country callid,
No pleasure lur'd bim, and no dread appallid !
Cornwallis thus obey'd Britannia's choice
Her Cincinnatus by the public voice !-
Yet his more great the sacrifice, from ease,
Oppress’d with age, to traverse distant feas;
To quit again his

cherish'd native ifle,
His grateful country, and his monarch's smile!
More bright his fame, to whose capacious mind
A double trust Britannia had consign’d;
Studious of peace-prepar'd for war's alarms-
Her faith in council-her renown in arıms !
Etherial Peace! foon may thy rays expand
Blessings o'er India's war distracted land;
Cornwallis comes to woo thee from thy sphere,
And bids thee, lovely stranger, linger here :
Nurs’d by thy genial warmth, may Plenty reiging
And spread her copious harvests o'er the plain;
May rapine cease, may discord feath the sword,
And through the East be thy mild fway restor’d;
Restor'd by hiin to India's distant Thore,
Who to his country gave the boon before !

But if no faith can awe, no treaties bind,
India's dark chiefs, to peace and justice blind,
His the dread charge, 'i affert his country's cause,
And gain by war the meed propos'd by laws!
Ah! here the muse her pleaging strains must cease,
Nor rous'd by war, nor footli'd by halcyon peace;
Deep forrow claims the verfe, ye accents flow
In strains responsive to the public woe!
For, near the Ganges' consecrated stream,
Wheri on the Chief Peace shed her orient beam,

for the purpose of deliberating on the best mode of paying a tribute of Tuwveet to the memory of the late Marquis Cornwallis. It was conpored by Mr. William Rowland Wake, and delivered with much animation and effect by Mr. Dunstanviile, a Cadet from the College at Mahim.

Cornwallis

« AnteriorContinuar »