Sonnets on the War :: :: University of Virginia Library

“With martial clangor thro' thrilled street and square
Our Grenadiers marched proudly to the war.
What then? On lazy purples lolls the Czar!
Fame, grown familiar as our native air,
Claps her loud wings, prepares to fly afar—
Another helm the glorious bird shall wear.”
To this replies a second, dismal-souled:
“Nerveless our leaders, as the libertine wind
Sated with roses. Where is Nelson's peer?
England lies dead and coffined in her gold.”
Draw the wide curtains! Strike these owlets blind
With Battle's splendour! Take away their breath
With torn lines pressing up the hill of Death,
And Victory buried in an English cheer.