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

ftand,

And Nelfon's great achievements reach to ev'ry diftant land; Nor from its zenith fhall his ftar of glory ere decline,

Till the bright regent of the day on earth no more shall shine.

October 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 fuch as none could beat,

And that the world muft foon fubmit to this united feet..

Soon was the news to Nelfon fent, that off Trafalgar Cape He might attack the enemy who wifh'd his power to 'fcape; "My brave companions lend your aid, and then will Nelfon

fhow

What British feamen can perform against their country's foe.

"Quick man your yards, and fet your fails, and not a moment wafte,

Bear for the Straits, for fee the wind is fhifted to the weft.” With his commands his gallant crews moft readily complied," And early on the twenty-firft the hoftile enfigus fpied.

Mark now where like a crefcent form'd, the combin'd fleet is clos'd,

And in two columns bearing down the British line oppos'd; Tremendous foon 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 fhips of war, the French and Spanish boaft,

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

VOL. X.

Bu

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 nobleft trophies place!

S―.

The following beautiful Epitaph is afcribed to the Hon. Baron Smythe, of Dublin.

TO THE MEMORY OF LORD NELSON.

Q

UI latuere diu Galli, fociique trementes,

Vix tandem egreffi portu, delentur in ævum:
Empta fed ah! nimium capite Victoria caro;
Fletibus atque piis mœfti maduere triumphi:
Extinctum belli fulmen lugete Britanni!
En fparfit moriens fata intra fulgura Bronte!

IMITATED.

WHILE dazzling honours crown the deathlefs name
Of George's navy-and of Nelfon's fame,
With gen'rous grief her triumph Britain hears,
And quenches half her glory in her tears:

*

Mourns her loft Bronte's heaven-imparted fires:
Refiftlefs bolt of, war-who, while he blafts, expires!

THE MONODY OF MERTON.

[From the Morning Chronicle.]

DARK! dark as the night is the fhadowy gloom,
O Merton! that hangs on thy defolate plain;

And dire is the breath on the gale from the tomb,
That tells thee Horatio in battle is flain.

1

* Bronte, derived from the Greek, fignifies Jove's thunderboltlightning.

For,

TRIBUTE TO THE MEMORY OF LD. NELSON. 123 For, fcarce from thy quiet retreat had he flown, With a patriot ardour his country to faveEre trumpets proclaim that the day is his ownEre lutes fadly murmur-he finks to the grave. Loud, loud may the nation its gratitude speak, And folemn proceffions his manes attend! But mute be the feeling that moiftens your cheek!

[ocr errors]

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

Where the outworks of freedom by Britons were won;
How your fires from their heav'n of blifs must behold
That the fabric they plann'd is preserv'd by your son * !
For, Merton! he made the
the feat of the brave,
And often thy echoes with rapture have rung,
When, foften'd, pure Wandle, by thy limpid wave,
The praises of valour by beauty were fung.

"Ah! give me, dear Merton," the hero would fay,
"My ebb-tide of life in thy fhelter to live;
With the friends of my heart in thy meadows to ftray,
Is the brighteft reward that my country can give t."
But, alas! now thy cloisters may moulder away ;
Unfeen may thy willows bend over the wave!
Reviv'd by his fplendour, 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.

LET meaner mortals feek from breathing ftone
To make their valour and their virtues known ;
Or, vain of wealth, Egyptian-like, display
Coloffal piles exempt from time's decay;
Nelfon, enthrin'd in ev'ry feeling heart,
Smiles at the splendour of recording art.

*The Statutes of Merton were paffed in the abbey adjoining Lord Viscount Nelfon's houfe.

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

2

Nor

Nor Parian quarries, nor Corinthian ore,
Ranfack'd to grace Britannia's trophied fhore,
Can fhed new luftre 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 fucceffion rife;
Iberia bending from her iron coaft,

Shrieks to behold her floating bulwarks loft;
And vanquish'd Gaul, ftern ocean's late delight,
Invokes the tempeft to protect her flight.

Grief drowns the theme!-too frail the minstrel's lyre,
The fculptor's magic, and the painter's fire,
To trace the triumphs to a Nelfon given,

When on the verge he paus'd 'twixt earth and heaven,
And faith, and fame, this lofty fcroll unfurl'd-
"His proud memorial-an aftonish'd world!!!"

LINES TO LORD NELSON,

WITH HIS LORDSHIP'S NIGHT-CAP, THAT CAUGHT FIRE ON THE POET'S HEAD, AS HE WAS READING IN BED AT MERTON.

BY PETER PINDAR.

TAKE your night-cap again, my good Lord, I defire,
For I wish not to keep it a minute;

What belongs to a Nelfon, where'er there's a fire,
Is fure to be inftantly in it.

MONODY

ON THE DEATH OF THE MOST NOBLE MARQUIS

CORNWALLIS ".

[From the British Prefs.]

Finis vitæ ejus nobis luctuofus, amicis triftis, extraneis etiam ignotifque non fine cura fuit.

TACITUS.

REAT Cincinnatus-from his rural feat,

GR

Where Fame repos'd in Honour's bright retreat,
Where his own laurels form'd the hero's crown,
At once the flade 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,
Call'd to her aid, from dignified repofe:
The fummons heard, to fame the vet'ran sprung,
Though old in years, in patriot ardour young;
Of felf regardless, when his country call'd,
No pleasure lur'd him, and no dread appall'd!
Cornwallis thus obey'd Britannia's choice-
Her Cincinnatus by the public voice!—
Yet his more great the facrifice, from ease,
Opprefs'd with age, to traverse diftant feas;
To quit again his cherifh'd native isle,
His grateful country, and his monarch's fmile!
More bright his fame, to whofe capacious mind
A double truft Britannia had confign'd;
Studious of peace-prepar'd for war's alarms-
Her faith in council-her renown in arms!
Etherial Peace! foon may thy rays expand
Bleffings o'er India's war-distracted land;
Cornwallis comes to woo thee from thy fphere,
And bids thee, lovely stranger, linger here:
Nurs'd by thy genial warmth, may Plenty reign,
And fpread her copious harvests o'er the plain;
May rapine ceafe, may difcord fheath the fword,
And through the East be thy mild fway restor'd;
Reftor'd by him to India's distant fhore,
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, 't affert his country's caufe,
And gain by war the meed propos'd by laws!
Ah! here the mufe her pleafing ftrains must cease,
Nor rous'd by war, nor footh'd by halcyon peace;
Deep forrow claims the verfe, ye accents flow
In ftrains refponfive to the public woe!
For, near the Ganges' confecrated stream,
When on the Chief Peace fhed her orient beam,

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

[blocks in formation]
« AnteriorContinuar »