PROEM. THAT was a memorable day for Spain, And frequent cannon flash'd, whose lurid light Redden'd thro' sulphurous smoke; fast volleying round Roll'd the war-thunders, and with long rebound The hungry garrison their eye-balls strain: For Wellesley's star hath risen ascendant there; Once more he drove the host of France to flight, And triumph'd once again for God and for the right. That was a day, whose influence far and wide Sore hurt, but not to death. For when long care Long time upon the bed of pain he lay What deeds arose from that prolific day; And of dark plots might shuddering Europe tell. |