 | Poems, by Joseph Cottle |  |
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‘With such unmanly thoughts, away! away!
‘Let Women love their timid breasts to goad,
‘And weep o'er Emmets crusht in Glory's road;
‘But Men, the Lords of wide creation's race,
‘Should never let a tear their cheeks disgrace;
‘Nor, when pursuing Fame with ardent eye,
‘Stoop to survey what worms beneath them lie.
‘I love thy clarion'd deeds, victorious war,
‘To hear thy bold atchievements from afar;
‘To see the martial ranks retire, advance,
‘Now view with furious rage the war-horse prance;
‘Now hear rich music charm the troubled air,
‘And now behold the sun-bright falchion's glare;
‘And though unnumber'd heroes gash'd must lie,
‘And Death o'ercast full many a victim's eye;
‘Yet, in that hour, disdaining slavish dread,
‘Shall exultation raise each drooping head;
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‘They leave a country grateful for their aid;
‘They dare, with triumphs crown'd, resign their breath,
‘And mid their country's glory smile in death.’
| Poems, by Joseph Cottle | |