Ode to the Duke of Wellington, and other poems by Robert Charles Dallas ... Written between the ages of eleven and thirteen years |
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EPITHALAMIUM
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 | Ode to the Duke of Wellington, and other poems |  |
158
EPITHALAMIUM
On the Marriage of a Young Officer (a near Relation,) who served under the Duke of Wellington during nearly the whole of the Peninsula War, and was severely wounded in one of the last Actions with Marshal Soult.
Hark; amid yon festive board,
Hymen lifts his gladd'ning strain:
Love with blessings richly stor'd,
Smiling holds his happy reign.
Hymen lifts his gladd'ning strain:
Love with blessings richly stor'd,
Smiling holds his happy reign.
Beauty's Queen with rosy hand,
Round the God who lifts the spear,
Gently throws her golden hand;
Airy Graces hover near.
Round the God who lifts the spear,
Gently throws her golden hand;
Airy Graces hover near.
Lull'd amid Idalian roses,
Scatt'ring round his darts in glee,
Lov'ly Cupid soft reposes;
Lov'lier Bride—he smiles on thee!
Scatt'ring round his darts in glee,
Lov'ly Cupid soft reposes;
Lov'lier Bride—he smiles on thee!
159
Ruddy Bacchus lifts the bowl,
Sparkling with nectarean red.
Heav'nly music charms the soul,
Myrtle wreaths adorn the head.
Sparkling with nectarean red.
Heav'nly music charms the soul,
Myrtle wreaths adorn the head.
Minstrels! wake the gladd'ning song,
Sweep the sounding chords along,
Strain the key with tow'ring swell,
Tuned to Fancy's silver spell.
Phœbus strings your Golden Lyre,
Venus fans your glowing fire;
Hail the hour, the nuptial day,
Hail yon pair with bridal lay:
Then louder swell the note,
Till list'ning zephyrs all around
With transport bear the hallow'd sound,
On fragrant wing to fairy ground,
And revel as they float.
Sweep the sounding chords along,
Strain the key with tow'ring swell,
Tuned to Fancy's silver spell.
Phœbus strings your Golden Lyre,
Venus fans your glowing fire;
Hail the hour, the nuptial day,
Hail yon pair with bridal lay:
Then louder swell the note,
Till list'ning zephyrs all around
With transport bear the hallow'd sound,
On fragrant wing to fairy ground,
And revel as they float.
Hush'd be all the streams of sorrow:
Think of grief, at least to-morrow,
Joy shall have this happy hour,
Bliss shall wake in Beauty's bower:
Valour quits the tented plain,
Glories glist'ning in his train;
Crown'd with fame, he drops his arms,
Raptur'd views yon kindling charms,
Like visions of the air;
Warrior, yes, the bold, the brave,
Who scorn'd to fill a coward's grave,
Who nobly fight a world to save,
Alone deserve the fair.
Think of grief, at least to-morrow,
Joy shall have this happy hour,
Bliss shall wake in Beauty's bower:
160
Glories glist'ning in his train;
Crown'd with fame, he drops his arms,
Raptur'd views yon kindling charms,
Like visions of the air;
Warrior, yes, the bold, the brave,
Who scorn'd to fill a coward's grave,
Who nobly fight a world to save,
Alone deserve the fair.
Yes, fond pair! with hearts united,
May ye never learn to mourn,
Like some rose unsoil'd, unblighted,
May your bliss by nought be torn:
Bands, which nought but death can sever,
Mystic Bands, that Heav'n hath wove,
Firm around ye cling for ever,
Join'd by Fate, and link'd by Love.
Thus though Fortune's boisterous billow
Toss the minds it cannot part;
Nights of care that haunt the pillow,
Closer link a lover's heart.
Then away with frowns and sadness,
Conquest crowns the Hero's name:
Sorrow yields her throne to Gladness;
Bliss and Beauty follow Fame.
May ye never learn to mourn,
Like some rose unsoil'd, unblighted,
May your bliss by nought be torn:
Bands, which nought but death can sever,
Mystic Bands, that Heav'n hath wove,
Firm around ye cling for ever,
Join'd by Fate, and link'd by Love.
Thus though Fortune's boisterous billow
Toss the minds it cannot part;
Nights of care that haunt the pillow,
Closer link a lover's heart.
161
Conquest crowns the Hero's name:
Sorrow yields her throne to Gladness;
Bliss and Beauty follow Fame.
| Ode to the Duke of Wellington, and other poems | |