 | Poems |  |
130
DIRGE ON THE DEATH OF LORD NELSON.
Αλλ' ουτος μεν δν, ω γυναι, εχει το καλλιστον τελος: νικων γαρ
τετελευτηκε: συ δε λαβουσα τοισδε επικοσμει αυτον τοις παρ' εμου.
Xenoph. Cyrop. VII. 3.
τετελευτηκε: συ δε λαβουσα τοισδε επικοσμει αυτον τοις παρ' εμου.
Xenoph. Cyrop. VII. 3.
“Come, come; no time for lamentation now
Nor much more cause: Samson hath quit himself
Like Samson, and heroickly hath finish'd
A life heroick: to his enemies
—hath left years of mourning
And lamentation;—to Israel
Honour hath left and freedom;—
To himself and father's house eternal fame;
And what is best and happiest yet, all this
With God not parted from him,—
But favouring and assisting to the end.”
Sams. Agonist. ver. 1703.
Nor much more cause: Samson hath quit himself
Like Samson, and heroickly hath finish'd
A life heroick: to his enemies
—hath left years of mourning
And lamentation;—to Israel
Honour hath left and freedom;—
To himself and father's house eternal fame;
And what is best and happiest yet, all this
With God not parted from him,—
But favouring and assisting to the end.”
Sams. Agonist. ver. 1703.
With seemliest dirge to soothe thine ear,
If yet thy spirit hover near,
No melancholy verse,
O Nelson, shall the generous Muse
No trophies of sad import chuse,
To hang thy laureate herse!
If yet thy spirit hover near,
No melancholy verse,
131
No trophies of sad import chuse,
To hang thy laureate herse!
I mourn thee not: tho' short thy day,
Circled by glory's brightest ray,
Thy giant course was run;
And Victory her sweetest smile
Reserv'd, to bless thy evening toil,
And gild thy setting sun.
Circled by glory's brightest ray,
Thy giant course was run;
And Victory her sweetest smile
Reserv'd, to bless thy evening toil,
And gild thy setting sun.
If mighty nations' hosts subdued;
If mid the wasteful scene of blood
Fair deeds of mercy wrought;
If thy fond country's joint acclame;
If Europe's blessing on thy name
Be bliss, I mourn thee not.
If mid the wasteful scene of blood
Fair deeds of mercy wrought;
If thy fond country's joint acclame;
If Europe's blessing on thy name
Be bliss, I mourn thee not.
132
That name from Indian Cuba sounds
To grateful Naples' oliv'd mounds,
And Ten'riffe's mountain-isle;
That name the thund'ring Baltic roars,
And Freedom hails on Egypt's shores
The Hero of the Nile.
To grateful Naples' oliv'd mounds,
And Ten'riffe's mountain-isle;
That name the thund'ring Baltic roars,
And Freedom hails on Egypt's shores
The Hero of the Nile.
Oft as Britannia's navies ride,
Where from old Ocean's straiten'd tide
Thy cliffs, Gibraltar, swell;
That name shall fill th' impassion'd thought,
And fond remembrance point the spot,
Where Nelson conquering fell.
Where from old Ocean's straiten'd tide
Thy cliffs, Gibraltar, swell;
That name shall fill th' impassion'd thought,
And fond remembrance point the spot,
Where Nelson conquering fell.
His deeds shall veteran Valour speak,
And beardless youth with kindling cheek
Burn at the wondrous tale;
The theme shall Piety pursue,
And as she bids the sea-worn crew
His nobler virtues hail,
And beardless youth with kindling cheek
Burn at the wondrous tale;
133
And as she bids the sea-worn crew
His nobler virtues hail,
Shew how, in conquest's dazzling hour,
He bow'd before that unseen pow'r
By whom the fight is won;
Serenely how he smil'd on death,
And pray'd with calm expiring breath,
“O God, thy will be done!”
He bow'd before that unseen pow'r
By whom the fight is won;
Serenely how he smil'd on death,
And pray'd with calm expiring breath,
“O God, thy will be done!”
| Poems | |