'Ye are brothers! ye are men! So peace instead of death let us bring: To our King.' Then Denmark bless'd our chief As death withdrew his shades from the day: O'er a wide and woeful sight, Where the fires of funeral light Now joy, old England, raise! Whilst the wine-cup shines in light; Full many a fathom deep By the wild and stormy steep, Brave hearts! to Britain's pride On the deck of fame that died, With the gallant good Riou: Soft sigh the winds of Heaven o'er their grave! While the billow mournful rolls And the mermaid's song condoles Singing glory to the souls Of the brave! T. Campbell. AFTER BLENHEIM IT was a summer evening, Old Kaspar's work was done, And by him sported on the green She saw her brother Peterkin In playing there had found; He came to ask what he had found Old Kaspar took it from the boy Who stood expectant by; And then the old man shook his head, "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,' With wonder-waiting eyes; 'Now tell us all about the war, And what they fought each other for.' 'It was the English,' Kaspar cried, But what they fought each other for But everybody said,' quoth he, '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 newborn 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. '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 'Why that I cannot tell,' said he, 'But 'twas a famous victory.' HERVÉ RIEL R. Southey. I On the sea and at the Hogue, sixteen hundred ninety-two, pursue, Came crowding ship on ship to St. Malo on the Rance, With the English fleet in view. II 'Twas the squadron that escaped, with the victor in full chase; First and foremost of the drove, in his great ship, Damfreville; Close on him fled, great and small, Twenty-two good ships in all; And they signalled to the place 'Help the winners of a race! Give us guidance, give us harbour, take us quick-or, quicker still, Here's the English can and will!' III Then the pilots of the place put out brisk and leapt on board; 'Why, what hope or chance have ships like these to pass?' laughed they: 'Rocks to starboard, rocks to port, all the passage scarred and scored, Shall the Formidable here with her twelve and eighty guns Think to make the river-mouth by the single narrow way, Trust to enter where 'tis ticklish for a craft of twenty tons, And with flow at full beside? Now, 'tis slackest ebb of tide. Reach the mooring? Rather say, While rock stands or water runs, Not a ship will leave the bay!' IV Then was called a council straight. Brief and bitter the debate: 'Here's the English at our heels; would you have them take in tow All that's left us of the fleet, linked together stern and bow, Better run the ships aground!' Let the Captains all and each Shove ashore, then blow up, burn the vessels on the beach! France must undergo her fate. V 'Give the word!' But no such word Was ever spoke or heard; For up stood, for out stepped, for in struck amid all these -A Captain? A Lieutenant? A Mate-first, second, third? |