HOHENLINDEN (1802) On Linden, when the sun was low, But Linden saw another sight, By torch and trumpet fast arrayed, Then shook the hills with thunder riven, But redder yet that light shall glow, 'Tis morn, but scarce yon level sun The combat deepens. On, ye brave, Few, few, shall part where many meet! BATTLE OF THE BALTIC (1809) Of Nelson and the North Sing the glorious day's renown, All the might of Denmark's crown, And her arms along the deep proudly shone; In a bold determin'd hand, And the Prince of all the land Like leviathans afloat Lay their bulwarks on the brine, On the lofty British line: It was ten of April morn by the chime; There was silence deep as death, But the might of England flushed And her van the fleeter rushed O'er the deadly space between— "Hearts of oak," our captains cried, when each gun From its adamantine lips Spread a death-shade round the ships, Like the hurricane eclipse Of the sun. Again! again! again! And the havoc did not slack, Till a feeble cheer the Dane Their shots along the deep slowly boom:- As they strike the shattered sail, Light the gloom. Out spoke the victor then, As he hailed them o'er the wave; So peace instead of death let us bring: With the crews, at England's feet, To our King." Then Denmark blest our chief, And the sounds of joy and grief, As death withdrew his shades from the day; While the sun looked smiling bright O'er a wide and woeful sight, Where the fires of funeral light Died away. Now joy, old England, raise While the wine cup shines in light; And yet amidst that joy and uproar, Let us think of them that sleep, By thy wild and stormy steep, Brave hearts! to Britain's pride Soft sigh the winds of heaven o'er their grave! Rights that cost your sires their blood, Men whose undegenerate spirit Has been proved on land and flood: By the foes ye've fought uncounted, Yet, remember, England gathers What are monuments of bravery, Pageants!-Let the world revere us Yours are Hampden's, Russell's glory, Worth a hundred Agincourts! We're the sons of sires that baffled They defied the field and scaffold SONG TO THE EVENING STAR Star that bringest home the bee, Come to the luxuriant skies, Whilst the landscape's odours rise, Whilst far-off lowing herds are heard, Star of love's soft interviews, By absence from the heart. |