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Description of a Battle
Hark! what transporting Sounds awake the Ear!
See gath'ring Troops bespeak approaching Death!
Death, the sure Portion of an heedless Throng.
As when the Thames unruffl'd by the Tide,
Rolls down his Banks majestically slow,
'Till some huge Eminence obstructs his Passage;
So move in thick Array the close Battalions,
'Till some contending Pow'r appears in Sight,
Then each, impetuous, pours upon his Foe.
With no less Spirit, see! the gen'rous Steed,
With restless Motion, urging to the Fight,
And paw the Ground, impatient of the Bit.
See gath'ring Troops bespeak approaching Death!
Death, the sure Portion of an heedless Throng.
As when the Thames unruffl'd by the Tide,
Rolls down his Banks majestically slow,
'Till some huge Eminence obstructs his Passage;
So move in thick Array the close Battalions,
'Till some contending Pow'r appears in Sight,
Then each, impetuous, pours upon his Foe.
With no less Spirit, see! the gen'rous Steed,
With restless Motion, urging to the Fight,
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Hark! How th' infallible Messengers of Fate,
In dreadful Thund'rings sweep along the Plain!
See mangl'd Limbs bestrew the spacious Field,
And streaming Gore infect, with odious Dye,
The verdant Grass!—
In dreadful Thund'rings sweep along the Plain!
See mangl'd Limbs bestrew the spacious Field,
And streaming Gore infect, with odious Dye,
The verdant Grass!—
See Heroes, struggling in the Pangs of Death,
Indignant bite the Ground; and vainly strive
To rise again, and vindicate their Wrongs:
But Fate, all-pow'rful Fate, in haughty Tone,
Upbraids their Pride, and bids the Wretches die.
Vast heaps of Warriors undistinguish'd fall,
The tim'rous Coward, and the gallant Hero;
Those who have seen Ten-thousands fall before 'em,
And shun'd the Fate of many a noble Chief;
Must now, alass, lay down that Load of Life
They've hugg'd so long.—
Of which, twice thirty Years inclement Blasts,
And twice that Number of fatiguing Marches,
Cou'd not compel to quit the well-kept Grasp.
Indignant bite the Ground; and vainly strive
To rise again, and vindicate their Wrongs:
But Fate, all-pow'rful Fate, in haughty Tone,
Upbraids their Pride, and bids the Wretches die.
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The tim'rous Coward, and the gallant Hero;
Those who have seen Ten-thousands fall before 'em,
And shun'd the Fate of many a noble Chief;
Must now, alass, lay down that Load of Life
They've hugg'd so long.—
Of which, twice thirty Years inclement Blasts,
And twice that Number of fatiguing Marches,
Cou'd not compel to quit the well-kept Grasp.
Undaunted still see Albion's warlike Sons
Stride o'er the prostrate dead, and forward press,
To heap Destruction on the vaunting Foe:
'Till thro' their Ranks they rapid burst their Way.
Hark! Shouts proclaim the Victory at hand!
And now, rejoicing in the well-fought Field,
With raptur'd Hearts, they view th' approach of Hesperus,
And court Repose, restorative of Health.
Stride o'er the prostrate dead, and forward press,
To heap Destruction on the vaunting Foe:
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Hark! Shouts proclaim the Victory at hand!
And now, rejoicing in the well-fought Field,
With raptur'd Hearts, they view th' approach of Hesperus,
And court Repose, restorative of Health.
And now the sable Veil of Darkness flies,
The Skies repurpl'd with AURORA's Beams;
In tuneful Choirs the Songsters reascend,
And warbling Notes bid welcome to the Day.
Now Light displays to view the Works of Slaughter;
Ah! rueful Sight, where once the enamell'd Meads,
Where pleasing Lawns, and gently falling Rills,
Where waving Crops, fann'd by the vernal Breeze,
Cou'd charm the ravish'd Eye; these please no more;
But Walks obstructed by the countless Dead
Affright the Swain, unus'd to Sights like these.
The Traveller, unconscious of the Fight,
(That with a Song beguiles his tedious Journey,
And cheats the feeling of his wearied Steps,)
Confus'd with Horror, backwards turns his Eyes:
As, when a Sheep perchance has left the Fold,
And in the mazy Windings of a Grove,
Meets the grim Visage of an hungry Wolf.
The Skies repurpl'd with AURORA's Beams;
In tuneful Choirs the Songsters reascend,
And warbling Notes bid welcome to the Day.
Now Light displays to view the Works of Slaughter;
Ah! rueful Sight, where once the enamell'd Meads,
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Where waving Crops, fann'd by the vernal Breeze,
Cou'd charm the ravish'd Eye; these please no more;
But Walks obstructed by the countless Dead
Affright the Swain, unus'd to Sights like these.
The Traveller, unconscious of the Fight,
(That with a Song beguiles his tedious Journey,
And cheats the feeling of his wearied Steps,)
Confus'd with Horror, backwards turns his Eyes:
As, when a Sheep perchance has left the Fold,
And in the mazy Windings of a Grove,
Meets the grim Visage of an hungry Wolf.
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Destructive War! — but how to be avoided?
Shall ever Albion's Sons ignobly Stoop
T'embrace the Bondage of perfidious France?
Avert it Heaven! —
Rather let Slaughter stalk along the Plain,
Let MARS speak Havock to the peaceful Globe;
'Till e'en the Name of Gallia be forgot;
And not a Native by his spurious Breed,
Stain the strict Honour of a purer World.
Shall ever Albion's Sons ignobly Stoop
T'embrace the Bondage of perfidious France?
Avert it Heaven! —
Rather let Slaughter stalk along the Plain,
Let MARS speak Havock to the peaceful Globe;
'Till e'en the Name of Gallia be forgot;
And not a Native by his spurious Breed,
Stain the strict Honour of a purer World.
Then haste, ye chosen Bands of warlike Souls,
(And may Imperial JOVE, invisible,
Yet Omnipresent Being, still propitious,
Aid your Attempt, and bid you prosper:) Haste,
And give the Gauls, perfidious Gauls, to know,
Your's are the Lands your conqu'ring Arms have won,
'Tis Your's to sway the Sceptre of the Sea;
But their's t'obey. —
— And thou brave GEORGE,
(The great Promoter of thy People's Weal:)
Who, with a Temper equally divine,
Canst calm the ill-tim'd Fury of thy Foes;
And when revolving Years bid Tumults cease
Nor noisy Drums disturb the peaceful Morn;
Canst well consult, alike the Patriot's,
And Peasant's Good. —
Long may'st thou live, and long may Brunswick's Line,
With equal Prudence rule th' obsequious Realm,
Since BRITAIN owns no other Sway but thine.
(And may Imperial JOVE, invisible,
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Aid your Attempt, and bid you prosper:) Haste,
And give the Gauls, perfidious Gauls, to know,
Your's are the Lands your conqu'ring Arms have won,
'Tis Your's to sway the Sceptre of the Sea;
But their's t'obey. —
— And thou brave GEORGE,
(The great Promoter of thy People's Weal:)
Who, with a Temper equally divine,
Canst calm the ill-tim'd Fury of thy Foes;
And when revolving Years bid Tumults cease
Nor noisy Drums disturb the peaceful Morn;
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And Peasant's Good. —
Long may'st thou live, and long may Brunswick's Line,
With equal Prudence rule th' obsequious Realm,
Since BRITAIN owns no other Sway but thine.
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