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The Poetical Works of Anna Seward

With Extracts from her Literary Correspondence. Edited by Walter Scott ... In Three Volumes

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67

PHILIPPIC

ON A MODERN EPIC.

Base is the purport of this epic song,
Baneful its powers;—but O! the poesy!
(What can it less when sun-born Genius sings?)
Wraps in reluctant ecstacy the soul
Where poesy is felt;—tho' here it paint
In all the lurid traits of Nero's heart,
The high heroic spirit of that prince
Who graced the crown he wore; Britannia's boast,
Harry of Monmouth!—he, who ne'er exposed
His ardent legions on the deathful plain
Where flamed not his broad shield, nor his white plumes,
Play'd in the battle's van.—What claim'd he then

68

From France, at the sword's point, but ceded rights
Howe'er perfidiously with-held, when pledg'd
For aye to England, after the proud day
Of Cressy's thundering field? Then Gallia's star
Sunk, and the planet of the argent shores
Rose glittering on the zenith's azure height,
What time upon the broken spears of France,
And prostrate helms, immortal Glory stood,
And with the lilies of that vaunting clime,
Like a gay bridegroom, wreath'd the victor brows
Of her great Edward.—O! unnatural boy!
O beardless parricide! thy treacherous Muse,
In the dire splendour of Medusa's charms
Balefully deck'd, an impious task essays,
Lab'ring to turn to deadliest aconite
The laurel wreaths of Agincourt;—to brand
The hallow'd lustre of the British name
With slavish meanness, with rapacious avarice,
And the wolf's rage. Britain, whose martial fire
Applauding ages have pronounced adorn'd
With fair munificence, and temper'd still
By God-like mercy's sway,—O, dark of heart,
As luminous of fancy! quit, for shame,
Quit each insidious pretence to virtue,

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To Christian faith, and pity!—Dry thy tears
For age-pass'd woes, they are the crocodile's,
And o'er the murder of the royal victims,
And o'er the Christian faith's apostacy,
Witness'd in France, cry, “Vive la Liberte!”
Dip thy young hands in her o'er-flowing chalice,
Brimm'd with the gore of age, infants, and beauty,
And, throwing thy red cap aloft in air,
Laugh with the fierce hyena!
 

It is mentioned by the historians, that in the field of Agincourt, the white plumes of the king's helmet were always seen waving in the front of the battle.

Cannon were first used by the English at the battle of Cressy.

Cooler reflection, and a long experience of the mischiefs resulting from the sanguinary system which this government has unwarned pursued through the last 14 years, have justified this Poet's representation of Henry the Fisth's conduct in invading France, and convinced me that the deprecation in Joan of Arc of monarchical ambition and rapacity, under that proud and specious term Military Glory, proceeded from benevolence to the Human race, and from a spirit of justice too firm to be warped by the vanity of national enthusiasm.— Anna Seward, Sept, 1807.