 | The Poetical Works of the Rev. George Croly |  |
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ON A GRAVE AT WATERLOO.
Ω ξειν', αγγειλον Λακεδαιμονιοις, οτι τηδε
Κειμεθα, τοις κεινων πειθομενοι νομιμοις. .
Inscription at Thermopylæ.
Κειμεθα, τοις κεινων πειθομενοι νομιμοις. .
Inscription at Thermopylæ.
Stranger, though here no laurel wave,
Here sleeps the bravest of the brave:
And never earth saw obsequies
Like his who in this green turf lies.
The might of nations rushing here
Beheld him close his high career;
The sound in which he long'd to die,
Rose mingled with his dying cry;
Earth shook, the heavens were wrapt in gloom,
The hour that laid him in the tomb;
And the world heard, from shore to shore,
The shout that told, the rite was o'er.
Here sleeps the bravest of the brave:
And never earth saw obsequies
Like his who in this green turf lies.
The might of nations rushing here
Beheld him close his high career;
The sound in which he long'd to die,
Rose mingled with his dying cry;
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The hour that laid him in the tomb;
And the world heard, from shore to shore,
The shout that told, the rite was o'er.
The forms that stood the grave beside
Were France and England's warrior-pride!
The gale that caught his dying sigh
Thunder'd with England's victory!
And the last shout the heavens that tore
Was France's blood-extinguish'd roar!
Were France and England's warrior-pride!
The gale that caught his dying sigh
Thunder'd with England's victory!
And the last shout the heavens that tore
Was France's blood-extinguish'd roar!
| The Poetical Works of the Rev. George Croly | |