Malvern Hills with Minor Poems, and Essays. By Joseph Cottle. Fourth Edition |
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 | Malvern Hills |  |
121
PRINCE LEÉ BOO.
ARGUMENT.
Lee Boo, and his Father Abba Thule conversing. Time, the evening before the Prince departed with the English.—Scene, the sea shore.
125
“GO! dauntless, go!” the Sire of Pèlew cried,
“These gallant Strangers be thy guard and guide!
“Long have I rear'd thee with unsleeping care,
“Child of thy Father's love! but now prepare
“To leave these arms, and, o'er the billows green,
“Sail on secure, while oceans roll between.
“For know, my son, beyond the isles I sway,
“Of Oroolong, and Keth, and Corooraa,
“Nations there are, invincible as wise,
“And other oceaus sweep reclining skies.—
“I see thy young eye sparkle at the tale!
“Yes, with these daring English thou shalt sail;
“With them direct the Bark of towering form,
“And ride, like them, triumphant through the storm.
“These gallant Strangers be thy guard and guide!
“Long have I rear'd thee with unsleeping care,
“Child of thy Father's love! but now prepare
“To leave these arms, and, o'er the billows green,
“Sail on secure, while oceans roll between.
“For know, my son, beyond the isles I sway,
“Of Oroolong, and Keth, and Corooraa,
“Nations there are, invincible as wise,
“And other oceaus sweep reclining skies.—
“I see thy young eye sparkle at the tale!
“Yes, with these daring English thou shalt sail;
“With them direct the Bark of towering form,
“And ride, like them, triumphant through the storm.
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“King of these isles, a long and glorious reign!
“Has Abba Thule liv'd, nor liv'd in vain!
“His envying foes behold his empire vast,
“And from his arm uplifted — shrink aghast.
“The wisdom which his far-famed Sires possest
“Has long and amply Abba Thule blest;
“None better know the Plantain grove to rear;
“To cleave the tree, or launch the massy spear;
“Yet from the lore these unknown Whites display,
“Your father's high-prized wisdom dies away!”
“Has Abba Thule liv'd, nor liv'd in vain!
“His envying foes behold his empire vast,
“And from his arm uplifted — shrink aghast.
“The wisdom which his far-famed Sires possest
“Has long and amply Abba Thule blest;
“None better know the Plantain grove to rear;
“To cleave the tree, or launch the massy spear;
“Yet from the lore these unknown Whites display,
“Your father's high-prized wisdom dies away!”
Th' astonish'd youth awhile his thoughts supprest;
Then, roused by wonder, thus his Sire addrest:
“What! does the world a distant land contain,
“That has not learn'd great Abba Thule's reign?
“Methought, for thee, the Sun resplendent shone,
“And that the stars were form'd for us alone:
“Hadst thou not told me other parts there were,
“With seas as spacious, and with lands as fair,
“Viewing these blue-vein'd strangers on our earth,
“I should have judged the waves had giv'n them birth!
“But though no Bones, like ours, their arms array,
“Nor healthful brown their sickly forms display;
“Yet why should colour change the feeling mind?
“In being men, I love my fellow-kind: —
“Fearless, and calm, I quit my father's throne
“To brave the dangers of a world unknown.—
“But, to my Dorack, now the news I bear,
“Receive her blessing, and her gladness share.”
Then, roused by wonder, thus his Sire addrest:
“What! does the world a distant land contain,
“That has not learn'd great Abba Thule's reign?
“Methought, for thee, the Sun resplendent shone,
“And that the stars were form'd for us alone:
“Hadst thou not told me other parts there were,
“With seas as spacious, and with lands as fair,
“Viewing these blue-vein'd strangers on our earth,
“I should have judged the waves had giv'n them birth!
“But though no Bones, like ours, their arms array,
“Nor healthful brown their sickly forms display;
“Yet why should colour change the feeling mind?
“In being men, I love my fellow-kind: —
“Fearless, and calm, I quit my father's throne
“To brave the dangers of a world unknown.—
“But, to my Dorack, now the news I bear,
“Receive her blessing, and her gladness share.”
And now the youth, enraptured, urged his way
To where the Damsel's distant dwelling lay;
When thus he cried, “Dorack! I tidings bear,
“Which thou, best friend, with bounding heart wilt hear,
“Soon shall I ocean's furthest waves explore,
“And search, untired, the world's remotest shore!
“And when, returning to my native isle,
“Wearied with toil, I seek thy cheering smile,
“Whilst all I have lies prostrate at thy feet,
“Transport will mark the moment when we meet.”
To where the Damsel's distant dwelling lay;
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“Which thou, best friend, with bounding heart wilt hear,
“Soon shall I ocean's furthest waves explore,
“And search, untired, the world's remotest shore!
“And when, returning to my native isle,
“Wearied with toil, I seek thy cheering smile,
“Whilst all I have lies prostrate at thy feet,
“Transport will mark the moment when we meet.”
“When dost thou go? and how?” the maiden cries;
Pale turn her cheeks, and wildly beam her eyes.
Pale turn her cheeks, and wildly beam her eyes.
When thus the youth, “E'en now I wait to share
“Thy fervent blessing, and thy parting prayer.”
Dorack replied, “What phantom of the brain
“Lures thee to death? Thy wandering steps restrain!
“Do not, hereafter, for thy rashness weep!
“Nor seek to taste the perils of the deep!
“Let these strange white men from our coast retire,
“And thou, contented, sojourn with thy sire.”
(She paused, when from the tumult of her soul
Adown her cheek the tear unconscious stole.)
“Thy fervent blessing, and thy parting prayer.”
Dorack replied, “What phantom of the brain
“Lures thee to death? Thy wandering steps restrain!
“Do not, hereafter, for thy rashness weep!
“Nor seek to taste the perils of the deep!
“Let these strange white men from our coast retire,
“And thou, contented, sojourn with thy sire.”
(She paused, when from the tumult of her soul
Adown her cheek the tear unconscious stole.)
To her the youth, “O cease that bitter woe,
“Not for myself, but Pèlew's realms I go.”
“Not for myself, but Pèlew's realms I go.”
The maiden thus preferr'd her soft reply;
“Live with thy friends, nor from thy Dorack fly.
“Ah! why desire to leave thy peaceful home,
“And through the world with pale-faced strangers roam?
“Who, like thy race, such ponderous spears can throw?
“Where can such Yams regale, or Chinham grow?
“What clime, like ours, her plantain grove can boast?
“Her palm-tree forest, and her shell-lined coast?
“To cure the restless wanderings of thy mind,
“Thou seek'st on distant shores that peace to find,
“Which only thrives by Friendship's hallowed side;
“Where souls, congenial, stem misfortune's tide.”
“Live with thy friends, nor from thy Dorack fly.
“Ah! why desire to leave thy peaceful home,
“And through the world with pale-faced strangers roam?
“Who, like thy race, such ponderous spears can throw?
“Where can such Yams regale, or Chinham grow?
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“Her palm-tree forest, and her shell-lined coast?
“To cure the restless wanderings of thy mind,
“Thou seek'st on distant shores that peace to find,
“Which only thrives by Friendship's hallowed side;
“Where souls, congenial, stem misfortune's tide.”
The Prince replies, “Ere long, I thee shall meet,
“And lay my humble offerings at thy feet.”
“And lay my humble offerings at thy feet.”
Faintly, and slow, the drooping maiden cried,
“Flower of thy race! I would, but cannot chide;
“Yet, should'st thou hence, with vain delusion roam,
“And chance conduct thy storm-beat vessel home,
“No Dorack's eye shall live to see the hour,
“And faded wreaths shall deck thy favourite bower!”
“Flower of thy race! I would, but cannot chide;
“Yet, should'st thou hence, with vain delusion roam,
“And chance conduct thy storm-beat vessel home,
“No Dorack's eye shall live to see the hour,
“And faded wreaths shall deck thy favourite bower!”
“Forbear that thought!” the shivering youth replied,
“Nay! more I tell thee,” urged the promised bride,
“If, sway'd by folly, thou these counsels spurn,
“Never, ah never, shall thy feet return!
“When, wand'ring on the beach, mid evening's gloom,
“Must not conflicting cares my heart consume,
“Thinking how thou thy little bark shalt save,
“Amid the driving blast, and mountain wave?
“I mark thy grief! I hear thy bursting sigh
“I see thy cold corse float before mine eye!”
“Nay! more I tell thee,” urged the promised bride,
“If, sway'd by folly, thou these counsels spurn,
“Never, ah never, shall thy feet return!
“When, wand'ring on the beach, mid evening's gloom,
“Must not conflicting cares my heart consume,
“Thinking how thou thy little bark shalt save,
“Amid the driving blast, and mountain wave?
“I mark thy grief! I hear thy bursting sigh
“I see thy cold corse float before mine eye!”
After a pause, to sacred feeling dear,
The Prince replied, “My Dorack, dry thy tear!
“What though thy Leé Boo wander far away,
“And thou, awhile, deplore his long delay,
“Think, for what cause, he leaves a love like thine,
“And, for thy country, meaner thoughts resign!”
The Prince replied, “My Dorack, dry thy tear!
“What though thy Leé Boo wander far away,
“And thou, awhile, deplore his long delay,
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“And, for thy country, meaner thoughts resign!”
“Vain are thy words,” replied the weeping maid,
“We want no stranger's artificial aid;
“What though no barks, like theirs, protect our coast,
“Nor Thule's sons their varying knowledge boast;
“Yet, humbler arts our humbler minds possess;
“Yet, still we know enough for happiness.
“Ah! little thinks the youth, who leaves his friends,
“And, far from home, his heedless footstep bends,
“What deep conflicting pangs his heart may know;
“What tears, unnumber'd, from repentance flow!
“Then shall he learn his rash resolves to mourn,
“And bear the pressing anguish they have borne.”
“We want no stranger's artificial aid;
“What though no barks, like theirs, protect our coast,
“Nor Thule's sons their varying knowledge boast;
“Yet, humbler arts our humbler minds possess;
“Yet, still we know enough for happiness.
“Ah! little thinks the youth, who leaves his friends,
“And, far from home, his heedless footstep bends,
“What deep conflicting pangs his heart may know;
“What tears, unnumber'd, from repentance flow!
“Then shall he learn his rash resolves to mourn,
“And bear the pressing anguish they have borne.”
When thus the Prince. “I must thy smiles deplore,
“Though thee I love, I love my country more!”
“Though thee I love, I love my country more!”
“Then! if to please thee in an evil hour,”
The maiden cried, “thou brave the ocean's power;
“If, heedless of thy drooping Dorack's pain,
“Thou spurn her counsels, and her tears disdain,
“Talk of delights thy search shall never find,
“And boast of honours, fleeting as the wind!
“Go! heedless, go! this heart can nurse its care,
“Silent in woe, and calm amid despair,
“And, when its friends enquire the reason why,
“Tell with a tear, and answer with a sigh!”
She said, and, slow retiring, in amaze,
Left the desponding youth awhile to gaze;
When, starting from a dream, he smote his breast,
And, downward pondering, sought the tent of rest.
The maiden cried, “thou brave the ocean's power;
“If, heedless of thy drooping Dorack's pain,
“Thou spurn her counsels, and her tears disdain,
“Talk of delights thy search shall never find,
“And boast of honours, fleeting as the wind!
“Go! heedless, go! this heart can nurse its care,
“Silent in woe, and calm amid despair,
“And, when its friends enquire the reason why,
“Tell with a tear, and answer with a sigh!”
She said, and, slow retiring, in amaze,
Left the desponding youth awhile to gaze;
When, starting from a dream, he smote his breast,
And, downward pondering, sought the tent of rest.
130
Now, on the eastern verge of earth, arose
Morn's doubtful light; and now it feebly glows
With solitary beam; extending far,
The rising glories veil the morning star:
Cloud heap'd on sapphire cloud, the gazer cheers,
Till, in his pride, the Lord of Day appears.
Morn's doubtful light; and now it feebly glows
With solitary beam; extending far,
The rising glories veil the morning star:
Cloud heap'd on sapphire cloud, the gazer cheers,
Till, in his pride, the Lord of Day appears.
Dorack, upstarting from her short repose,
Beheld that sun his earliest beam disclose,
Wont to inspire, but now, whose cheerless light
Sent back her heart to solitude and night.
Beheld that sun his earliest beam disclose,
Wont to inspire, but now, whose cheerless light
Sent back her heart to solitude and night.
Upon the shore a numerous host appear;
Chieftains and Rupacks to the bark draw near,
Far o'er the watery waste who cast their eyes,
While hopes, and fears, for Leé Boo's safety rise.
When Pélew's king, firm-hearted, near them drew
To hail his friends, and bid the last adieu.
Chieftains and Rupacks to the bark draw near,
Far o'er the watery waste who cast their eyes,
While hopes, and fears, for Leé Boo's safety rise.
When Pélew's king, firm-hearted, near them drew
To hail his friends, and bid the last adieu.
Though far removed from Learning's fostering sway,
Pass'd Abba Thule's circling years away;
Though nursed in realms where Science never shone,
And of mankind unknowing and unknown,
Yet, Heaven enrich'd him with a princely mind,
Her noblest gift — the milk of human kind.
He lived his country's pride, her evening star,
Whose cheering ray descended wide and far;
Spread o'er his land a little stream of light,
Though twinkling, constant; and though humble, bright.
Pass'd Abba Thule's circling years away;
Though nursed in realms where Science never shone,
And of mankind unknowing and unknown,
Yet, Heaven enrich'd him with a princely mind,
Her noblest gift — the milk of human kind.
He lived his country's pride, her evening star,
Whose cheering ray descended wide and far;
Spread o'er his land a little stream of light,
Though twinkling, constant; and though humble, bright.
Ah! now his son, with pensive look, draws near;
Solemn his step, and on his cheek a tear.
Solemn his step, and on his cheek a tear.
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“Why weep'st thou thus?” the father, anxious, cried,
“My Dorack mourns,” the downcast youth replied.
“Torn is my bosom, and my purpose wild,
“Must love, or duty, triumph o'er thy child?”
To him the monarch, “Thee, my son, I prize!
“Yet I repress the thoughts that fain would rise.
“Haste with these strangers; toils should but invite,
“While visions, glorious, dance before the sight.
“The grandest principle on man bestow'd,
“The noblest journey, though the roughest road,
“Is — to toil onward in our country's good;
“So much profess'd! so little understood!
“Be this thy task. If not one cross arise,
“One fond hope blasted, or one sacrifice,
“Where is the patriot's praise? Prepare thy mind
“Conjuncture dark, the storm-vex'd sky to find;
“Tempests, though fierce, will leave the brighter day,
“And toils, surmounted, pass, like clouds, away.
“The vessel waits — one last glance dart around—
“Leap to the bark, and be with glory crown'd.
“Suppress that tear — thy native valour show—
“Men should disdain to deal in women's woe.”
“My Dorack mourns,” the downcast youth replied.
“Torn is my bosom, and my purpose wild,
“Must love, or duty, triumph o'er thy child?”
To him the monarch, “Thee, my son, I prize!
“Yet I repress the thoughts that fain would rise.
“Haste with these strangers; toils should but invite,
“While visions, glorious, dance before the sight.
“The grandest principle on man bestow'd,
“The noblest journey, though the roughest road,
“Is — to toil onward in our country's good;
“So much profess'd! so little understood!
“Be this thy task. If not one cross arise,
“One fond hope blasted, or one sacrifice,
“Where is the patriot's praise? Prepare thy mind
“Conjuncture dark, the storm-vex'd sky to find;
“Tempests, though fierce, will leave the brighter day,
“And toils, surmounted, pass, like clouds, away.
“The vessel waits — one last glance dart around—
“Leap to the bark, and be with glory crown'd.
“Suppress that tear — thy native valour show—
“Men should disdain to deal in women's woe.”
Firmness may worlds subdue! but still, 'tis hard
To keep, for ever keep, o'er Nature, guard;
The monarch's eyes the soft infection caught,
And what his tongue condemn'd, his actions taught.
Faltering he cried, striving to hide his pain,
“I count the moons till we do meet again!”
To keep, for ever keep, o'er Nature, guard;
The monarch's eyes the soft infection caught,
And what his tongue condemn'd, his actions taught.
Faltering he cried, striving to hide his pain,
“I count the moons till we do meet again!”
The youth, o'erpower'd, in silence bow'd his head,
Then waved his hand, and to the vessel sped.
When, from the deck, he spied his Dorack's form,
Bending, in calm submission, to the storm;
Casting a look to Heaven, whose glimmering light
Scarce forced a passage through her flooded sight.
The sails were raised, when swift the maiden ran
Down to the Ocean's brink, and thus began,
“Go, youth, beloved! impelled by Folly's sway!
“Go, voyage safe, and prosperous be thy way!
“But, as these eyes no more with joy must shine,
“And never meet the answering glance of thine;
“Let not this last fond moment from us glide,
“And the stern bark our kindred souls divide,
“Without one word, our souls with joy to fill,
“One fix'd resolve, that Love shall triumph still.
“The mutual wish, oh, let contention cease!
“And, if thou must depart — depart in peace!”
Then waved his hand, and to the vessel sped.
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Bending, in calm submission, to the storm;
Casting a look to Heaven, whose glimmering light
Scarce forced a passage through her flooded sight.
The sails were raised, when swift the maiden ran
Down to the Ocean's brink, and thus began,
“Go, youth, beloved! impelled by Folly's sway!
“Go, voyage safe, and prosperous be thy way!
“But, as these eyes no more with joy must shine,
“And never meet the answering glance of thine;
“Let not this last fond moment from us glide,
“And the stern bark our kindred souls divide,
“Without one word, our souls with joy to fill,
“One fix'd resolve, that Love shall triumph still.
“The mutual wish, oh, let contention cease!
“And, if thou must depart — depart in peace!”
Scarce had she said, and as the youth arose
To lull the maiden's anguish to repose;
The lifted canvas courts the rising gale,
And from her aching eye conveys the lingering sail.
To lull the maiden's anguish to repose;
The lifted canvas courts the rising gale,
And from her aching eye conveys the lingering sail.
Ah! never more to Pèlew's happy isle,
Returning with a fond and artless smile,
While crowds receive thee from the ocean green,
Shalt thou recount the wonders thou hast seen!—
Ask for thy Dorack, prove her groundless fear,
And wipe, with conscious pride, Affection's tear!
Ah! hapless youth, soon shall thy race be run!
Thy light withdrawn, untimely set thy sun!
And, when at last the mortal debt thou pay,
Far from thy home, poor blossom of a day!
Thy bursting heart shall on thy Dorack dwell,
And parting with the world, exclaim, “Farewell!”
Returning with a fond and artless smile,
While crowds receive thee from the ocean green,
Shalt thou recount the wonders thou hast seen!—
Ask for thy Dorack, prove her groundless fear,
And wipe, with conscious pride, Affection's tear!
Ah! hapless youth, soon shall thy race be run!
Thy light withdrawn, untimely set thy sun!
And, when at last the mortal debt thou pay,
Far from thy home, poor blossom of a day!
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And parting with the world, exclaim, “Farewell!”
The little toys which pleased thy opening mind,
Ere o'er thee pass'd distemper's ruthless wind,
And which thou fondly hopedst to display,
When back returning to thy Corooraa,
These shalt thou leave behind! The poet's eye
Weeps, as he writes, to think that thou should'st die!
Ere o'er thee pass'd distemper's ruthless wind,
And which thou fondly hopedst to display,
When back returning to thy Corooraa,
These shalt thou leave behind! The poet's eye
Weeps, as he writes, to think that thou should'st die!
Thy kindred sad shall deem their Lée Boo slain!
Thy sorrowing sire call after thee in vain!
And, when perceiving at the promised time,
No son returning to his native clime;
Days of unceasing pain his heart shall know,
And gloomy nights of still-augmenting woe;
Till Grief shall dash him with her poison'd wave,
And his grey hairs go sorrowing to the grave.
Thy sorrowing sire call after thee in vain!
And, when perceiving at the promised time,
No son returning to his native clime;
Days of unceasing pain his heart shall know,
And gloomy nights of still-augmenting woe;
Till Grief shall dash him with her poison'd wave,
And his grey hairs go sorrowing to the grave.
Thy Dorack too shall o'er her Leé Boo pore!
Each evening wander on the lonely shore!
Each morning roam with heart-corroding pain,
And count the crags so often pass'd in vain!
Still, maiden, still, thy hapless path pursue;
Still, to affection, prove thy spirit true;
And dwell with all a lover's fond delight,
When the proud bark shall crowd upon thy sight;
But never more shall Leé Boo call thee dear,
And never more his voice thy bosom cheer!
The bond of death his once-loved corse detains;
A foreign country holds his cold remains!
Ah! why that sudden start? that heaving sigh?
Didst thou, in fancy, see thy Lée Boo nigh?
No! 'twas the wind, at which thou stood'st aghast,
The fearful howling of the midnight blast.
Poor maiden, grieve not! he shall ne'er complain,
Though storms and tempests heave the raging main;
Peaceful, his bones beneath the valley lie,
Whilst the fierce whirlwind sweeps unheeded by!
Each evening wander on the lonely shore!
Each morning roam with heart-corroding pain,
And count the crags so often pass'd in vain!
Still, maiden, still, thy hapless path pursue;
Still, to affection, prove thy spirit true;
And dwell with all a lover's fond delight,
When the proud bark shall crowd upon thy sight;
But never more shall Leé Boo call thee dear,
And never more his voice thy bosom cheer!
The bond of death his once-loved corse detains;
A foreign country holds his cold remains!
Ah! why that sudden start? that heaving sigh?
Didst thou, in fancy, see thy Lée Boo nigh?
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The fearful howling of the midnight blast.
Poor maiden, grieve not! he shall ne'er complain,
Though storms and tempests heave the raging main;
Peaceful, his bones beneath the valley lie,
Whilst the fierce whirlwind sweeps unheeded by!
135
WAR, A FRAGMENT.
IF the whole tract of WAR dense ills afford,
What are your crimes, ye guardians of the sword!
At whose dread summons countless scabbards fly,
While murders fill the earth, and shrieks, the sky!
What are your crimes, ye lords of wealth and power!
Who loose your “war-dogs” in Ambition's hour,
And, heedless, view your subjects bleed and groan
To add some bauble to a burden'd throne!
The searching hour shall come, nor slowly creep,
When Justice, starting from her couch of sleep,
Shall seize the long-neglected sword of fate,
And call to vengeance earth's mistitled Great!
What are your crimes, ye guardians of the sword!
At whose dread summons countless scabbards fly,
While murders fill the earth, and shrieks, the sky!
What are your crimes, ye lords of wealth and power!
Who loose your “war-dogs” in Ambition's hour,
And, heedless, view your subjects bleed and groan
To add some bauble to a burden'd throne!
The searching hour shall come, nor slowly creep,
When Justice, starting from her couch of sleep,
Shall seize the long-neglected sword of fate,
And call to vengeance earth's mistitled Great!
Amid the brave, the generous, and the pure,
Thy name, O Kosciusko! shall endure:
And, though to gain a people equal laws,
Thy weary limb a clanking fetter draws,
Yet, what sustains the good man's suffering breast,
Shall, though endungeon'd, give thy spirits rest.
Still smile, undaunted smile, though tempests lour;
Still, in thy greatness, scorn her boasted power,
Whom neither laws of God or man can bind!
Who wars, as interest serves, on all mankind.
For thee shall sound Compassion's softest dirge,
Thy name descend to Time's remotest verge
With growing honours crown'd; and o'er thy grave
The bay shall bloom, the verdant laurel, wave.
Thy name, O Kosciusko! shall endure:
And, though to gain a people equal laws,
Thy weary limb a clanking fetter draws,
Yet, what sustains the good man's suffering breast,
Shall, though endungeon'd, give thy spirits rest.
Still smile, undaunted smile, though tempests lour;
Still, in thy greatness, scorn her boasted power,
136
Who wars, as interest serves, on all mankind.
For thee shall sound Compassion's softest dirge,
Thy name descend to Time's remotest verge
With growing honours crown'd; and o'er thy grave
The bay shall bloom, the verdant laurel, wave.
Why in our annals shines the hero's name?
What are his claims to greatness and to fame?—
The wasters' rude of Chili's happy land—
The blood-drunk conquerors of Indostan's strand—
And all the train of warriors, as they rose,
Feasting, from age to age, on human woes?
What the fierce rival's of Moscovian Czar?
Or His, who tore Darius from his car?—
Scourgers of earth! and heralds of dismay!
Pests of mankind! and whirlwinds of their day!
From whose example blushing History rakes
Her nest of scorpions, and her brood of snakes!
What are his claims to greatness and to fame?—
The wasters' rude of Chili's happy land—
The blood-drunk conquerors of Indostan's strand—
And all the train of warriors, as they rose,
Feasting, from age to age, on human woes?
What the fierce rival's of Moscovian Czar?
Or His, who tore Darius from his car?—
Scourgers of earth! and heralds of dismay!
Pests of mankind! and whirlwinds of their day!
From whose example blushing History rakes
Her nest of scorpions, and her brood of snakes!
What countless pangs to such have owed their birth!
What blood, and sweeping rapine, fill'd our earth!
To grant these tyrants unexplored domain,
How many a fruitful clime has desert lain!
And to delight these monsters' lordly pride,
How many an eye hath wept, and bosom sigh'd!
What blood, and sweeping rapine, fill'd our earth!
To grant these tyrants unexplored domain,
How many a fruitful clime has desert lain!
And to delight these monsters' lordly pride,
How many an eye hath wept, and bosom sigh'd!
The hostile chief, in conquest's honours drest,
Sporting the trophy'd car, and nodding crest,
But little thinks, or, thinking, little cares
How hard the inmate of the cottage fares;
How many widows mourn, with sorrow vain;
How many orphans weep their fathers slain:
He heeds not that, where slaughter'd thousands lie,
Each left a friend sincere to heave the sigh;
That each, while crush'd by Ruin's ponderous car,
Cast a fond glance on relatives afar,
And, as he dropp'd the tear for those behind,
Curst, in his pangs, the murderers of mankind!—
E'en while his limbs look ghastly in their wounds,
And victory's shout, from hill to hill, resounds,
He faintly hears a daughter's frantic cry!
A son's pale image swims before his eye!
Ah, fond delusion! these shall live to tell
The far-off country where their father fell;—
What blazon'd warrior led him to his doom,
To gain, he knew not what, to fight, he knew not whom!
Sporting the trophy'd car, and nodding crest,
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How hard the inmate of the cottage fares;
How many widows mourn, with sorrow vain;
How many orphans weep their fathers slain:
He heeds not that, where slaughter'd thousands lie,
Each left a friend sincere to heave the sigh;
That each, while crush'd by Ruin's ponderous car,
Cast a fond glance on relatives afar,
And, as he dropp'd the tear for those behind,
Curst, in his pangs, the murderers of mankind!—
E'en while his limbs look ghastly in their wounds,
And victory's shout, from hill to hill, resounds,
He faintly hears a daughter's frantic cry!
A son's pale image swims before his eye!
Ah, fond delusion! these shall live to tell
The far-off country where their father fell;—
What blazon'd warrior led him to his doom,
To gain, he knew not what, to fight, he knew not whom!
Amid the scenes, we hear, but to abhor,
Which follow still the gory heels of War,
Who shall recount the tales that once inspired
The heart with pity, or the bosom fired
With indignation? Many a Winter's snow
And many a lengthen'd Summer's sultry glow
Have pass'd between! No more they move the breast,
Lost in the lapse of time, with Heaven they rest!—
Which follow still the gory heels of War,
Who shall recount the tales that once inspired
The heart with pity, or the bosom fired
With indignation? Many a Winter's snow
And many a lengthen'd Summer's sultry glow
Have pass'd between! No more they move the breast,
Lost in the lapse of time, with Heaven they rest!—
Perchance, of maiden o'er the hostile plain,
Seeking her lover, mid the ghastly slain,
Till, in the slaughter'd heap, she views his face,
And, dying, clasps him in her last embrace.
Or, of the youth, from peaceful home who stray'd
To learn in evil hour the warrior's trade.—
Stretch'd, wounded, on the field, behold him there!—
Heaving, in agony, the fervent prayer,
Whilst, with faint-glimmering eye, and visage pale,
He marks the screaming vulture round him sail.
Or, of the cottage-child that pines for bread,
And lisping calls upon his father—dead!
At whose approach, when eve her shadows threw,
To meet his sire he oft with gladness flew;
Saw with delight the loaf his arm sustain'd,
And shared the meal his honest toil had gain'd;
Now, in the wars laid low, mid hunger's pain
He sobs to see his father's face again,
Whilst the rack'd mother hides her anguish deep,
And, weeping, bids her baby cease to weep.
Seeking her lover, mid the ghastly slain,
Till, in the slaughter'd heap, she views his face,
And, dying, clasps him in her last embrace.
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To learn in evil hour the warrior's trade.—
Stretch'd, wounded, on the field, behold him there!—
Heaving, in agony, the fervent prayer,
Whilst, with faint-glimmering eye, and visage pale,
He marks the screaming vulture round him sail.
Or, of the cottage-child that pines for bread,
And lisping calls upon his father—dead!
At whose approach, when eve her shadows threw,
To meet his sire he oft with gladness flew;
Saw with delight the loaf his arm sustain'd,
And shared the meal his honest toil had gain'd;
Now, in the wars laid low, mid hunger's pain
He sobs to see his father's face again,
Whilst the rack'd mother hides her anguish deep,
And, weeping, bids her baby cease to weep.
Methinks I hear some frowning Warrior cry,
‘We live inglorious, or we nobly die.
‘Let Women thus their timid spirits goad,
‘And weep o'er Emmets crush'd in Glory's road;
‘Men love the sound of arms; the tale of war;
‘To hear its bold achievements from afar;
‘To see the martial ranks retire, advance;
‘Now view with furious rage the charger prance;
‘Now hear rich music fill the ambient air,
‘And now behold the sun-bright falchion's glare;
‘And though, mid conflict dire, by fate decreed,
‘All cannot triumph, some must bravely bleed,
‘Yet, in their parting hour, disdaining dread,
‘The hero's pride shall raise their drooping head;
‘They leave a name, by valour, deathless made;
‘They leave a nation grateful for their aid;
‘They dare, with triumphs crown'd, resign their breath,
‘And, mid their country's glory, smile in death.’
‘We live inglorious, or we nobly die.
‘Let Women thus their timid spirits goad,
‘And weep o'er Emmets crush'd in Glory's road;
‘Men love the sound of arms; the tale of war;
‘To hear its bold achievements from afar;
‘To see the martial ranks retire, advance;
‘Now view with furious rage the charger prance;
‘Now hear rich music fill the ambient air,
‘And now behold the sun-bright falchion's glare;
‘And though, mid conflict dire, by fate decreed,
‘All cannot triumph, some must bravely bleed,
‘Yet, in their parting hour, disdaining dread,
‘The hero's pride shall raise their drooping head;
‘They leave a name, by valour, deathless made;
‘They leave a nation grateful for their aid;
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‘And, mid their country's glory, smile in death.’
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These senseless words, as baits, to folly thrown,
May charm the multitude, to thought unknown;
Yet, with indignant spirit, Truth disdains
To crouch in silence, bound by Falsehood's chains;
The poet, in such numbers as he may,
The spoils of war, unshrinking, dares display.
Where are the thousands, and ten thousands slain?
How, in fame's annals, do they live again,
Who, following some proud captain to the chase
Of man and murder, closed their mortal race?
The victors perish with the ranks o'erthrown!
The slayer and the slain are both unknown!
May charm the multitude, to thought unknown;
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To crouch in silence, bound by Falsehood's chains;
142
The spoils of war, unshrinking, dares display.
Where are the thousands, and ten thousands slain?
How, in fame's annals, do they live again,
Who, following some proud captain to the chase
Of man and murder, closed their mortal race?
The victors perish with the ranks o'erthrown!
The slayer and the slain are both unknown!
143
The peaceful peasant, lured by War away,
Weeps through the night, and sorrows through the day.
He little dreams, whilst number'd with the brave,
What dangers lurk to sink him to the grave!
He little knows what fierce opponents wait
To hand the chalice at the hour of fate!
Few are the favour'd breasts who sudden feel
The gun's swift ruin, or the murderous steel;
Too often, wounds, the sinking frame, oppress,
Torpid and pale, with hopeless wretchedness:
Or, if from wounds protected he remain,
Distemper's venom swells his burning vein:
A foe's damp prison bounds his feeble view,
Whilst on his brow sits Death's untimely dew:
Or, in the bark that bore him to the fight,
He breathes the air of pestilence and night;
Upon his scanty hammock, rests his arm,
And, sighing, asks for War's seductive charm,
For which he left a father's house, alone,
To pine unnoticed, and to die unknown;
Whilst, thick around, expiring veterans lie;
His sad participants in misery!
These are no scenes, in Fancy's clothing, drest,
Framed with strange cares to pierce the feeling breast;
But true, too true, for, ere they bade farewell,
Thus, oh, ye mothers! thus your children fell!
Weeps through the night, and sorrows through the day.
He little dreams, whilst number'd with the brave,
What dangers lurk to sink him to the grave!
He little knows what fierce opponents wait
To hand the chalice at the hour of fate!
Few are the favour'd breasts who sudden feel
The gun's swift ruin, or the murderous steel;
Too often, wounds, the sinking frame, oppress,
Torpid and pale, with hopeless wretchedness:
Or, if from wounds protected he remain,
Distemper's venom swells his burning vein:
A foe's damp prison bounds his feeble view,
Whilst on his brow sits Death's untimely dew:
Or, in the bark that bore him to the fight,
He breathes the air of pestilence and night;
Upon his scanty hammock, rests his arm,
And, sighing, asks for War's seductive charm,
For which he left a father's house, alone,
To pine unnoticed, and to die unknown;
Whilst, thick around, expiring veterans lie;
His sad participants in misery!
These are no scenes, in Fancy's clothing, drest,
Framed with strange cares to pierce the feeling breast;
But true, too true, for, ere they bade farewell,
Thus, oh, ye mothers! thus your children fell!
On foreign soil, while conflict raged around,
These ears have heard the martial clangor's sound;
These eyes have witness'd Briton's sons deform'd,
From field ensanguined, or from fortress storm'd;
Beheld the villagers, with pallid cheek,
Wait for the news, their hearts too full to speak;
The mother, clasp her baby to her breast,
Crying, “Ere long, we both in peace shall rest.”
These feet have strayed, some office kind to pay,
Where the brave soldier on his pallet lay;
Explored War's Hospitals, by pity led,
Where the maim'd veteran lean'd his aching head!
No spirit loved, to hear his parting vow!
No friend, to wipe the dew-drop from his brow!
Cold, damp, and dark the place, dismember'd, mean,
And the long range, the same funereal scene!
Where silence reign'd, companion of despair,
Save, when some groan disturb'd the sleeping air!
The vacant glance, proclaiming woe supreme,
The haggard look, still haunts my midnight dream:
Still, some I see, with supplicating eye,
Implore compassion from the passer-by;
While e'en Humanity, to love awake,
Stood doubtful where her earliest choice to make!
These ears have heard the martial clangor's sound;
These eyes have witness'd Briton's sons deform'd,
From field ensanguined, or from fortress storm'd;
Beheld the villagers, with pallid cheek,
Wait for the news, their hearts too full to speak;
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Crying, “Ere long, we both in peace shall rest.”
These feet have strayed, some office kind to pay,
Where the brave soldier on his pallet lay;
Explored War's Hospitals, by pity led,
Where the maim'd veteran lean'd his aching head!
No spirit loved, to hear his parting vow!
No friend, to wipe the dew-drop from his brow!
Cold, damp, and dark the place, dismember'd, mean,
And the long range, the same funereal scene!
Where silence reign'd, companion of despair,
Save, when some groan disturb'd the sleeping air!
The vacant glance, proclaiming woe supreme,
The haggard look, still haunts my midnight dream:
Still, some I see, with supplicating eye,
Implore compassion from the passer-by;
While e'en Humanity, to love awake,
Stood doubtful where her earliest choice to make!
| Malvern Hills | |