Banking their fleet two deep, a fortress-wall thirtytower'd ;

In the midst four-storied with guns, the dark Trinidada lower'd.

So with those.-But meanwhile, as against some dyke that men massively rear,

From on high the torrent surges, to drive through the dyke as a spear,

Eagle-eyed e'en in his blindness, our chief sets his double array,

Making the fleet two spears, to thrust at the foe, any

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way,

Anyhow!-without orders, each captain his Frenchman may grapple perforce :

Collingwood first

slacken'd her course)

Signal for action! Farewell! we shall win, but we meet not again!

-Then a low thunder of readiness ran from the decks o'er the main,

And on,-as the message from masthead to masthead flew out like a flame,

ENGLAND EXPECTS EVERY MAN WILL DO HIS DUTY,they came.

-Silent they come :-While the thirty black forts of the foemen's array

Clothe them in billowy snow, tier speaking o'er tier as they lay;

Flashes that came and went, as swords when the battle is rife ;

But ours stood frowningly smiling, and ready for death as for life.

-O in that interval grim, ere the furies of slaughter embrace,

Thrills o'er each man some far echo of England; some glance of some face!

-Faces gazing seaward through tears from the ocean-girt shore ;

Features that ne'er can be gazed on again till the death-pang is o'er. . .

...

Lone in his cabin the Admiral kneeling, and all his great heart

As a child's to the mother, goes forth to the loved one, who bade him depart

.. O not for death, but glory! her smile would welcome him home!

-Louder and thicker the thunderbolts fall :-and silent they come.

As when beyond Dongola the lion, whom hunters attack,

Stung by their darts from afar, leaps in, dividing them back;

So between Spaniard and Frenchman the Victory wedged with a shout,

Gun against gun; a cloud from her decks and lightning went out;

Iron hailing of pitiless death from the sulphury smoke ;

Voices hoarse and parch'd, and blood from invisible stroke.

Each man stood to his work, though his mates fell smitten around,

As an oak of the wood, while his fellow, flameshatter'd, besplinters the ground :

Gluttons of danger for England, but sparing the foe as he lay;

For the spirit of Nelson was on them, and each was Nelson that day.

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She has struck!"-he shouted-" She burns, the Redoubtable! Save whom we can,

"Silence our guns":-for in him the woman was great in the man,

In that heroic heart each drop girl-gentle and pure, Dying by those he spared:-and now Death's triumph was sure!

From the deck the smoke-wreath clear'd, and the foe set his rifle in rest,

Dastardly aiming, where Nelson stood forth, with the stars on his breast,

"In honour I gain'd them, in honour I die with Then, in his place,

Fell

them

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Hardy! 'tis over; but let them not

know" and he cover'd his face.

Silent, the whole fleet's darling they bore to the twilight below :

And above the war-thunder came shouting, as foe struck his flag after foe.

To his heart death rose and for Hardy, the faithful, he cried in his pain,

"How goes the day with us, Hardy ?

ours":-Then he knew, not in vain

66

"Tis

Not in vain for his comrades and England he bled: how he left her secure,

Queen of her own blue seas, while his name and example endure.

O, like a lover he loved her! for her as water he pours Life-blood, and life and love, given all for her sake, and for ours!

-"Kiss me, Hardy !-Thank God !-I have done my duty!"-And then

Fled that heroic soul, and left not his like among men.

Hear ye the heart of a nation
Groan, for her saviour is gone;

Gallant and true and tender,

Child and chieftain in one?

Such another day never

England will weep for again,

When the triumph darken'd the triumph.

And the hero of heroes was slain.

THE BURIAL OF SIR JOHN MOORE

(1809)

BY CHARLES WOLFE

NOT a drum was heard, not a funeral note,
As his corpse to the ramparts we hurried;
Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot
O'er the grave where our hero we buried.

We buried him darkly at dead of night,
The sods with our bayonets turning,
By the struggling moonbeams' misty light,
And the lantern dimly burning.

No useless coffin enclosed his breast,

Not in sheet nor in shroud we wound him;
But he lay like a warrior taking his rest,
With his martial cloak around him.

Few and short were the prayers we said,

And we spoke not a word of sorrow;

But we steadfastly gazed on the face of the dead,
And we bitterly thought of the morrow.

We thought, as we hollowed his narrow bed,
And smoothed down his lonely pillow,

That the foe and the stranger would tread o'er his head,

And we far away on the billow.

Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone,
And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him ;
But little he'll reck, if they'll let him sleep on
In the grave where a Briton has laid him.

But half of our heavy task was done

When the clock struck the hour for retiring; And we heard the distant and random gun That the foe was sullenly firing.

Slowly and sadly we laid him down,

From the field of his fame, fresh and gory; We carved not a line, and we raised not a stone, But we left him alone with his glory!

THE EVE OF WATERLOO (1815)

BY LORD BYRON

THERE was a sound of revelry by night,
And Belgium's capital had gathered then
Her Beauty and her Chivalry, and bright
The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men ;
A thousand hearts beat happily; and when
Music arose with its voluptuous swell,

Soft eyes looked love to eyes which spake again,
And all went merry as a marriage-bell;

But hush! hark! a deep sound strikes like a rising knell !

Did ye not hear it ?-No; 'twas but the wind,
Or the car rattling o'er the stony street;

On with the dance! let joy be unconfined;
No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet
To chase the glowing hours with flying feet-
But hark!-that heavy sound breaks in once more,
As if the clouds its echo would repeat;

And nearer, clearer, deadlier than before! Arm! arm! it is-it is-the cannon's opening roar !

Within a windowed niche of that high hall
Sate Brunswick's fated chieftain; he did hear
That sound the first amidst the festival,

And caught its tone with Death's prophetic ear: