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III. PART III.
Heroum laudes imitandaque gesta canebant.”
Milt. Mansus, ver. 42. When foes o'erhung Britannia's isle of yore,
His harp high-sounding, on the rocky shore,
Priest of the Gods, the hoary Druid strung,
And loud the praise of freedom's warriors sung.
O could I pour with rival force along
The rapid torrent of the patriot song!
So might my numbers aid the righteous cause,
For which her sword my injur'd country draws,
More wide the zeal of Albion's champions spread,
Inspire them living, and embalm them dead.
WAR-SONG,
WRITTEN IN MAY 1803, ON THE PUBLICATION OF THE NEGOTIATION PAPERS .
And fright him there, and make him tremble there?
O, let it not be said. ------
------ Nought can make us rue,
If England to herself shall rest but true.”
Shakspere, King John.
“Bend, Britons, bend the stubborn knee;
“Own your ancient virtue fled,
“And know not that ye once were free.
“Speak no more, as Britons ought;
“Act no more the Briton's part
“With valiant hand and honest heart;
“What indignation bids you feel,
“Dare not, dare not to reveal,
“Tho' Justice sharpen, dare not grasp the lance,
“Nor single-handed tempt the might of France.
“Her breast with many a war-wound gor'd,
“Me Helvetia owns her Lord.
“Boast not then your fleets, that sweep
“The eastern and the western deep;
“Boast not then your sea-wash'd land
“Rampart-girt by Nature's hand;
“Fleets and billows stay not me—
“Then bow the head, and bend the knee,
“Britons, no more your rival ranks advance,
“Nor single-handed dare to cope with France.”
Stoops to the tempest, we will bow.
Yes! we will bend, as the tall rock,
Mocking the wave that chafes below.
Now by the sable prince imbrued
Once and again in Gallic blood;
Harry, thy helm; and, Marlb'rough, thine;
By our chiefs on Nilus' tide,
Him, who triumph'd; him, who died;
By him, whom Acon's turrets raise
To lion-hearted Richard's praise;
Yes! we will still our rival ranks advance,
And single-handed brave the might of France.
Launch thy navies, arm thine host;
And beneath night's fav'ring wing,
Thy banners plant on England's coast.
Come! but hope not to return;
Here other thoughts thou soon shalt learn;
Shalt feel, that Britons still may claim
The honours of the British name;
On British as on Syrian land;
Still rise superior to the sons of Chance,
Still single-handed crush the pride of France.
“Another indignity was offered to this country in the communication of the First Consul of France to the Legislative body. In this communication he presumes to affirm, in the character of chief Magistrate of that country, That Great Britain can not singly contend against the power of France: an assertion as unfounded as it is indecent, disproved by the events of many wars, and by none more than by those of the war which has recently been concluded. Such an assertion, advanced in the most solemn official act of a government, and thereby meant to be avowed to all the powers of Europe, can be considered in no other light than as a defiance publicly offered to his Majesty, and to a brave and powerful people, who are both willing and able to defend his just rights, and those of their country, against every insult and aggression.” His Majesty's Declaration, 1803.
THE FATE OF SWITZERLAND.
Yet fell:—remember ------.”
Milton, Par. Lost, VI.
When Gallia northward bent her way,
Eager to stretch her desolating brand
O'er the rich vales of happy Switzerland;
From beneath the piny steep,
Where he lay in slumber deep,
Lull'd by the water's tuneful fall,
And the goatherd's madrigal,
High on Adula's rock he fix'd his stand,
And clash'd his shield, and wav'd his banner'd hand,
And thus his war-song sang.
“The legions of perfidious France!
“Onward she bids the gathering tempest roll,
“Peace on her brow, but rancour in her soul.
“She envies us the pastur'd mead,
“The rock with mantling vineyards spread,
“The beechen grove, the vale, the hill,
“Fresh with many a vernal rill,
“With many a simple spire and cottage grac'd;
“Fain would she scatter with her venom'd breath
“Over this pleasant land the seeds of death,
“And blast our Eden's bloom, and leave a hideous waste.
“Though the proud insulting foe
“Full wide her conquering banners have unfurl'd
“O'er half the nations of the prostrate world;
“Hath she yet storm'd the mountain-rock,
“And stemm'd the mountain-torrent's shock,
“And scal'd the beetling precipice,
“Barrier'd with eternal ice?
“Warriors, hath she yet essay'd
“The fury of the freeman's blade,
“Of souls resolv'd to conquer or to die?—
“Then, Switzers, rise! each his stout breastplate gird,
“And each unsheath his blood-incrusted sword,
“And rear his nervous arm, and strike for liberty!”
Helvetia's warriors throng'd around.
From the swift Limmat, and majestic Ar;
From where to the morning shine
The torrents of the infant Rhine;
And wintry Rhone's tumultuous tide
Cleaves the Forked-mountain's side;
Hasli, from thy lovely dell;
From thy green hills, O Appenzell;
From the forest-crowned mere ,
Where the hardy mountaineer
Chaunts the high feats of his compatriot Tell;
They burn to meet th' invading Gaul:
“'Tis well:” the guardian Genius cries again:
“Such the port in days of yore,
“Warriors, your forefathers bore;
“Thus 'gainst many a giant foe
“They whirl'd the ax, and bent the bow.
“Then the bull and sable bear
“Together swept the ranks of war,
“And Union led the way to victory:
“This quench'd the fury of the Austrian sword;
“This crush'd the might of bold Burgundia's Lord;
“This chas'd proud Gallia's kings; this made our country free.
“Emulate your fathers' fame;
“And on your common foe united fall.
“So may the songs of future days
“You to your fathers' glory raise!
“Again may conquest crown your ranks
“On rapid Birsa's
The hospital of St. James, near Basle, not far from the confluence of the Birse with the Rhine, is celebrated for the stand made by the Swiss in 1444 against the Dauphin of France, afterwards Louis XI. Naefels and Morgarten, respectively in the cantons of Glarus and Schwitz, are no less famous as scenes of the Austrian defeats in 1388 and 1315. At Granson, towards the lower extremity of the lake of Neuchâtel, and at Morat, on the lake of Morat, were fought two battles, which effectually quelled the invasion of Switzerland by Charles the Bold, Duke of Burgundy, in 1476. Near the latter place was erected
This building contained several inscriptions, commemorative of the event which occasioned its erection. Amongst these was one in German verse by Haller, the sentiment of which is the ground-work of the above poem. I add it here in a version of tolerable exactness, though somewhat dilated from the original, and therefore less forcible.
It speaks the fate of those redoubted troops,
Who on the pride of Liege had trod, and shook
The throne of Gallia's kings. Helvetian, know,
Not by their numbers or their well-wrought arms
Our fathers conquer'd. Nature gave them force,
And Union made that force invincible.
Helvetians! Brothers! feel your proper strength,
And be united! As your rocks ye stand
Unmoveable, if but that holy flame,
Which warm'd your fathers' bosoms, glow in yours.
It was near this chapel that General d'Erlach, commander of the Swiss troops, was posted in 1798, when the French General Brune sent to summon him to surrender. “My ancestors,” he replied, “never surrendered. Could I be base enough to think of it, yonder monument would recall me to my duty.” Brune, on becoming master of the spot, ordered the building to be destroyed, and not one stone of it now stands upon another.
“By Naefel's rocks, and green Morgarten's plain;
“Granson again, and viny Morat see
“Their waves, bloodstain'd with Gallic chivalry,
”And Freedom still unmov'd her Alpine throne maintain.
“Hence! bow the standard, break the spear!
“Discord, more fatal than the foe, shall strew
“Your strength, and burst your rocky barriers through,
“O'erwhelm'd by scornful tyranny.
“Then, tho' thy patriot chiefs advance,
“Thy warriors seize the patriot lance,
“Again my war-song sound, my banner wave;
“In vain thy echoing rocks shall spread the strain,
“Thy chieftains call, thy warriors arm in vain;
“Gallia must triumph still, and thou be still a slave!”
The lake of the four cantons; or, agreeably to the name in the language of the country, of the four forest-towns. William Tell, whose romantic history is given in Coxe's accurate account of Switzerland, was a native of Burglen, a small village not far from Altorf, in the canton of Uri. Uri is one of the four cantons that inclose the lake.
The banners of the cantons of Uri and Berne: meant to denote the Union between the small and great nations.
DIRGE ON THE DEATH OF LORD NELSON.
τετελευτηκε: συ δε λαβουσα τοισδε επικοσμει αυτον τοις παρ' εμου.
Xenoph. Cyrop. VII. 3.
Nor much more cause: Samson hath quit himself
Like Samson, and heroickly hath finish'd
A life heroick: to his enemies
—hath left years of mourning
And lamentation;—to Israel
Honour hath left and freedom;—
To himself and father's house eternal fame;
And what is best and happiest yet, all this
With God not parted from him,—
But favouring and assisting to the end.”
Sams. Agonist. ver. 1703.
If yet thy spirit hover near,
No melancholy verse,
No trophies of sad import chuse,
To hang thy laureate herse!
Circled by glory's brightest ray,
Thy giant course was run;
And Victory her sweetest smile
Reserv'd, to bless thy evening toil,
And gild thy setting sun.
If mid the wasteful scene of blood
Fair deeds of mercy wrought;
If thy fond country's joint acclame;
If Europe's blessing on thy name
Be bliss, I mourn thee not.
To grateful Naples' oliv'd mounds,
And Ten'riffe's mountain-isle;
That name the thund'ring Baltic roars,
And Freedom hails on Egypt's shores
The Hero of the Nile.
Where from old Ocean's straiten'd tide
Thy cliffs, Gibraltar, swell;
That name shall fill th' impassion'd thought,
And fond remembrance point the spot,
Where Nelson conquering fell.
And beardless youth with kindling cheek
Burn at the wondrous tale;
And as she bids the sea-worn crew
His nobler virtues hail,
He bow'd before that unseen pow'r
By whom the fight is won;
Serenely how he smil'd on death,
And pray'd with calm expiring breath,
“O God, thy will be done!”
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