 | Poems of "Frank Forester" (Henry William Herbert) |  |
[IV. Our mightiest warrior is dead—is dead]
Our mightiest warrior is dead—is dead.A nation bore him to his noble grave,
Beside the mightiest rider of the wave.
By Nelson, Wellington has laid his head.
What marvel England should his memory bless?
A man himself, who nothing human thought
To himself foreign: if he pardoned naught
To others, who himself forgave the less.
So he is gone, that we no more shall hear
His short stern sentences, which rang so true,
Making all hearts impassible to fear.
Yet all, when duty is most hard to do,
So strong they live in every English ear,
Shall think of Wellington and Waterloo.
| Poems of "Frank Forester" (Henry William Herbert) | |