The early poems of John Clare 1804-1822: General editor Eric Robinson: Edited by Eric Robinson and David Powell: Associate editor Margaret Grainger |
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DEATH OF THE BRAVE
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The early poems of John Clare | ||
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DEATH OF THE BRAVE
A Song
1
In his countrys cause when his last breath is breathingAnd maintaining her freedom the hero expires
In vain then may envy her snakes be unwreathing
She will near damp the fame which his valour aquires
No Ages to come shall grow warm at the story
To hear how a Briton in fight did behave
And courage & valour & honour & Glory
Tho vanquishd—shall triumph at the death of the brave
2
To his Country true to his king brave & loyalNo bribes the brave heart of the hero ensnares
True Courage—he proves it in hot bloody tryal
Hand and heart both together for battle prepares
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While the warning to battle no terror ne'er gave
He smiles at its horrors & welcomes the danger
And feels no conscern but the death of the Brave
3
Where death with his horrors most horrible ragesShowers his Weapons so thick as to darken the skye
There look for the hero—tis there he engages
Undaunted—Resolving to conquer or dye
To live his brave heart by no hopes is attended
He falls over powred—& smiles at his Grave
Grim War e'en awhile holds her weapon suspended
And feels a concern at the Death of the Brave
4
His courage unbated—tho o'erpowred by NumbersThe hero falls bleeding to mix with the slain
Yet his eye ere it closes eternal to Slumbers
Still rolls on the foe with Exulting disdain
—Tho the hero's no more theres no mourning nor weeping
A tear for his death by a Soldier ere gave
Would hurt his brave Soul in its grave sweetly sleeping—
For honour remains at the Death of the Brave
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His Brothers his Soldiers who boast the proud StoryAnd Witness the last of their Leader and Friend
(Their Leader who often has lead them to Glory—)
And always stood loyal & true to the End
Still follow him now in the honours of battle
Muffl'd Drums beating up a dead march to the Grave
Where the last farewell three Vollies shall Rattle
To distinguish in thunder the death of the brave
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No need of the Sculptor in marble be castingTo prolong the Fame which his actions acquire
In the hearts of true Britons he lives ever lasting
Till the World & their hero together expire
The ages to come shall grow warm at the story
And British youths fir'd by th'Examples gave
Shall hasten to Battle & hasten to Glory—
And Glory in Dying the death of the Brave
The early poems of John Clare | ||