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countrymen a singular compliment in his account of able manner in which these opinions have been retract the attack and defence of this village, in which he says, ed. The success of this plan, with all its important the British lost many officers, and Scotch.
consequences, we owe to the indefatigable exertions of
Note 20. Conclusion. Stanza xvii.
-a race renown'd of old,
Whose war-cry oft has waked the battle-swell.
This stanza alludes to the various achievements of Nothing during the war of Portugal seems, to a dis- the warlike family of Græme, or Graham. They are tinct observer, more deserving of praise, than the self- said, by tradition, to have descended from the Scottish devotion of Field-Marshal Beresford, who was contented chief, under whose command his countrymen stormed to undertake all the hazard of obloquy which might the wall built by the Emperor Severus between the have been founded upon any miscarriage in the higlıly friths of Forth and Clyde, the fragments of which are important experiment of training the Portuguese troops still popularly called Græme's Dyke. Sir John the to an improved state of discipline. In exposing his Græme, « the hardy, wight; and wise,» is well known military reputation, to the censure of imprudence from
as the friend of Sir William Wallace. Alderne, Kilthe most moderate, and all manner of unutterable ca- syth, and Tibbermuir, were scenes of the victories of lamnies from the ignorant and malignant, he placed at
the heroic Marquis of Montrose. The pass of Killystake the dearest pledge which a military man had to offer, and nothing bui the deepest conviction of the liam's forces and the Highlanders in 1689,
crankie is famous for the action between King Wilhigh and essential importance attached to success can be supposed an adequate motive. How great the chance
Where glad Dundee in faint huzzas expired. of miscarriage was supposed, may be estimated from It is seldom that one line can number so many hethe general opinion of officers of unquestioned talents roes, and yet more rare when it can appeal to the and experience, possessed of every opportunity of in- glory of a living descendant in support of its ancient formation; how completely the experiment has succeeded, and how much the spirit and patriotism of our The allusions to the private history and character of ancient allies had been under-rated, is evident, not only General Graham may be illustrated by referring to the from those victories in which they have borne a distin- cloquent and affecting speech of Mr Sheridan, upon the guished share, but from the liberal and highly honour vote of thanks to the victor of Barrossa.
The field of Waterloo :
Though Valois braved young Edward's gentle hand,
TO HER GRACE THE DUCHESS OF WELLINGTON,
PRINCESS OF WATERLOO, ETC., ETC., ETC.,
BY THE AUTHOR.
FIELD OF WATERLOO.
We yet may hear the hour
From proud Saint Michael's tower.
Thy wood, dark Soignies, holds us now,
For many a league around,
Of tangled forest ground.
For access seeks in vain!
Nor sun, nor air, nor rain.
No opening glade dawns on our way,
Our woodland path has cross'd;
Until in distance lost.
And where the earth seems scorch'd by flame,
Around her fire of straw.»—
the scattering wood recedes, Hedge-rows, and huts, and sunny meads,
And corn-fields glance between; The peasant, at his labour blithe, Plies the hook'd staff and shorten'd scythe:-(1)
But when these ears were green, Placed close within destruction's scope, Full little was that rustic's hope
Their ripening to have seen!
Their architecture view;
Immortal WATERLOO !
V. So deem'st thou-so each mortal deems, Of that which is from that which seems :
But other harvest here Than that which peasant's scythe demands, Was gather'd in by sterner hands,
With bayonet, blade, and spear.
Fell thick as ripen'd grain;
So often lost and won;
Dash'd the hot war-horse on.
From yonder trenched mound?
Her garner-house profound.
Looks on the field below,
In easier curves can flow. Brief space from thence, the ground again, · Ascending slowly from the plain,
Forms an opposing screen,
The soften'd vale between
On that wide stubble-ground.
Nor fosse nor fence are found,
On these scorch'd fields were known!
A summons of his own.
Distinguish every tone
Down to the dying groan, And the last sob of life's decay
When breath was all but flown.
IV. Now, seest thou aught in this lone scene Can tell of that which late hath been?
A stranger might reply, « The bare extent of stubble-plain Seems lately lighten'd of its grain; And yonder sable tracks remain, Marks of the peasant's ponderous wain,
When harvest-home was nigh. On these broad spots of trampled ground, Perchance the rustics danced such round
As Teniers loved to draw;
Protracted space may last;
And cease when these are pass'd.
Vain hope!- that morn's o'erclouded sun Heard the wild shout of fight begun
Ere he attain'd his height,
Though now he stoops to night.
Still down the slope they drew,
For all that war could do, Of skill and force, was proved that day, And turn'd not yet the doubtful fray
On bloody Waterloo.
The war was waked anew; Three hundred cannon-mouths roar'd loud, And from their throats, with flash' and cloud,
Their showers of iron threw.' Beneath their fire, in full career, Rush'd on the ponderous cuirassier, The lancer couch'd his ruthless spear, And hurrying as to havoc near,
The cohorts' eagles flew. In one dark torrent broad and strong, The advancing onset roll'd along, Forth harbinger'd by fierce acclaim, That from the shroud of smoke and flame, Peal'd wildly the imperial name.
Continued thunders came!
Of rapine and of flame.
Points to his prey in vain,
He fires the fight again.
Then waked their fire at once!
Then down went helm and lance,
And to augment the fray,
Forced their resistless way.
X. « On! on!» was still his stern exclaim, « Confront the battery's jaws of flame!
Rush on the levell’d gun! (3) My steel-clad cuirassiers, advance! Each Bulan forward with his lance, My Guard-my chosen-charge for France,
France and Napoleon!» Loud answer'd their acclaiming shout, Greeting the mandate which sent out Their bravest and their best to dare The fate their leader shunn'd to share. (4) But He, his country's sword and shield, Still in the battle-front reveal’d, Where danger fiercest swept the field,
Came like a beam of light, In action prompt, in sentence brief« Soldiers, stand firm!» exclaim'd the chief,
England shall tell the fight!» (5)
The British host had stood
They were their ocean's flood.-
of tempest blastOn came the whirlwind-steel-gleams broke Like lightning through the rolling smoke.
The terrors of yon rushing tide?
Or dost thou turn thine eye
And other standards fly?
Is Blucher yet unknown?
In Prussia's trumpet tone?
In one dread effort more? -
That chieftain, who, of yore, Ambition's dizzy paths, essay'd, And with the glaslintars'aid.
For empire enterprised He stood the cast his rashness play'd, Left not the victims 'he had made, Dug his red grave with his own blade, And on the field he lost was láid,
Abhorrid_but not despised.
And, to the ruin'd peasant's eye,
Down the dread current hurld-
So fell, a shriek was none,.. i?
The children of the Don.
Have felt the final stroke;
The last dread seal is broke.
On this eventful day,
A torrent fierce and wide; 'Reft of these aids, a rill obscure, Shrinking unnoticed, mean and poor,
Whose channel shows display'd The wrecks of its impetuous course, But not one symptom of the force
By which these wrecks were made!
Such homage hath been paid
If it were freely made.
That « yet imperial hope;»
We yield thee means or scope.
No islet calls thee lord.
From which we wrench'd the sword.
Who, as thy flight they eyed,
« Oh that he had but died !»
Back on yon broken ranks,
XVIII. Yet, e'en in yon sequester'd spot, * May worthier conquest be thy lot
Than yet thy life has known; Conquest, unbought by blood or harm, That needs not foreign aid nor arm,
Atriumph all thine own. Such waits 'thee when thou shalt control Those passions wild, that stubborn soul,
That marr'd thy prosperous scene :Hear this-from no unmoved heart, Which sighs, comparing what THOU ART
With what thou MIGATST HAVE BEEN!
Thou saw'st in seas of gore expire Redoubted Picton's soul of fireSaw'st in the mingled carnage lie All that of PONSONBY could die De Lancy change Love's bridal-wreath For laurels from the hand of Death Saw’st gallant Miller's failing eye Still bent.where Albion's banners fly, And CAMERON, in the shock of steel, Die like the offspring of Lochiel; And generous GORDON, ʼmid the strife, Fall while he watch'd his leader's life.Ah! though her guardiani angel's shield Fenced Britain's hero through the field, Fate not the less her power made known Through his friends' hearts to pierce his own!
XIX. Thou, too, whose deeds of fame renew'd Bankrupt a nation's gratitude, To thine own noble heart must owe More than the meed she can bestow. For not a people's just acclaim, Not the full hail of Europe's fame, Thy prince's smiles, thy state's decree, The ducal rank, the garter'd knee, Not these such pure delight afford, As that, when, hanging up thy sword, Well mayst thou think, « This honest steel Was ever drawn for public weal; And, such was rightful Heaven's decree, Ne'er sheathed unless with victory !»
XXII. Forgive, brave dead, the imperfect lay; Who may your names, your number, say, What high-strung harp, what lofty line, To each the dear-earn'd praise assign, From high-born chiefs of martial fame To the poor soldier's lowlier name? Lightly ye rose that dawning day, From your
cold couch of swamp and clay, To fill, before the sun was low, The bed that morning cannot know.Oft may
the tear the green sod steep, And sacred be the heroes' sleep,
Till time sball cease to run; And ne'er beside their noble
grave May Briton pass, and fail to crave A blessing on the fallen brave,
Who fought with Wellington.
XX. Look forth, once more, with soften'd heart, Ere from the field of fam we part; Triumph and Sorrow border near, And Joy oft melts into a tear. Alas! what links of love that morn Has War's rude hand asunder torn ! For ne'er was field so sternly fought, And ne'er was conquest dearer bought. Here piled in common slaughter sleep Those whom affection long shall weep; Here rests the sire, that ne'er shall strain His orphans to his heart again; The son, whom, on his native shore, The parent's voice shall bless no more; The bridegroom, who has hardly press'd His blushing consort to his breast; The husband, whom through many a year Long love and mutual faith endear. Thou canst not name one tender tie But here dissolved its relics lie ! O, when thou seest some mourner's veil Shroud her thin form and visage pale, Or mark’st the matron's bursting tears Stream when the stricken drum she hears; Or seest how manlier grief, suppress'd, Is labouring in a father's breast,With no inquiry vain pursue The cause,
but think on Waterloo !
mark of martial wrong,
And Blenheim's name be new;
And field of Waterloo.
XXI. Period of honour as of woes, What bright careers 't was thine to close ! Mark'd on
thy roll of blood what names To Britain's memory, and to Fame's, Laid there their last immortal claims !
CONCLUSION. Stern tide of human Time! that know'st not rest,
But, sweeping from the cradle to the tomb, Bear'st ever downward on thy dusky breast
Successive generations to their doom;