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; While thy capacious stream has equal room For the gay bark where Pleasure's streamers sport, And for the prison-ship of guilt and gloom, The fisher skiff, and barge that bears a court, Still wafting onward all to one dark silent port; Stern tide of Time! through what mysterious change Was to one race of Adam's offspring given. Such fearful strife as that where we have striven, Until the awful term when Thou shalt cease to flow. Well hast thou stood, my Country!—the brave fig Hast well maintain'd through good report and ill; In thy just cause and in thy native might, And in Heaven's grace and justice constant still; Whether the banded prowess, strength, and skill Of half the world against thee stood array'd, Or when, with better views and freer will, Beside thee Europe's noblest drew the blade, Each emulous in arms the Ocean Queen to aid. Well art thou now repaid-though slowly rose, And wash'd in foemen's gore unjust reproach away. Now, Island Empress, wave thy crest on high, Yet 'mid the confidence of just renown, Best justifies the meed thy valiant sons have won. END OF THE FIELD OF WATERLOO. VOL. V. 28 |