The evening air pass'd by my cheek, The leaves above were stirr'd,But the beating of my own heart Was all the sound I heard. Fast silent tears were flowing, I knew its touch was kind: We did not speak one word, THE BATTLE OF BLENHEIM. It was a summer evening, Old Kaspar's work was done, And by him sported on the green She saw her brother Peterkin Roll something large and round, Which he beside the rivulet In playing there had found; He came to ask what he had found. That was so large, and smooth, and round. Old Kaspar took it from the boy, Who stood expectant by ; And then the old man shook his head, And, with a natural sigh, ""Tis some poor fellow's skull," said he, "Who fell in the great victory. "I find them in the garden, For there's many here about; And often when I go to plough, The ploughshare turns them out For many thousand men," said he, "Were slain in that great victory." "Now tell us what 'twas all about," And what they fought each other for." "It was the English," Kaspar cried, "My father lived at Blenheim then, So with his wife and child he fled, Nor had he where to rest his head. "With fire and sword the country round Was wasted far and wide, And many a childing mother then, And new-born baby died; But things like that, you know, must be At every famous victory. "They say it was a shocking sight After the field was won; For many thousand bodies here Lay rotting in the sun; But things like that, you know, must be After a famous victory. THE BATTLE OF BLENHEIM. "Great praise the Duke of Marlbro' won, And our good Prince Eugene." "Why 'twas a very wicked thing!" Said little Wilhelmine. "Nay, nay, my little girl," quoth he, "It was a famous victory. "And everybody praised the Duke Who this great fight did win." "But what good came of it at last?" Quoth little Peterkin. Why, that I cannot tell," said he, "But 'twas a famous victory." |