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The Poetical Remains of the late Dr. John Leyden

with Memoirs of his Life, by the Rev. James Morton

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VERSES
  
  
  
  
  
  
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177

VERSES

ON THE DEATH OF NELSON.

How dark the cloud of fate impends!
That canopies the ocean-plain!
How red the shower of blood descends,
Till Nelson lies amid the slain.—
Then pauses battle's awful reign:—
As warriors strive the tear to hide,
Wild shuddering shoots along the purple main—
The main by mighty Nelson's heart-blood dyed.
Blood of the brave! thou art not lost
Amid the waste of waters blue!
The waves that roll to Albion's coast,
Shall proudly boast their sanguine hue;
And thou shalt be the vernal dew
To foster valour's daring seed.
The generous plant shall still its stock renew,
And hosts of heroes rise when one shall bleed.

178

Great Nelson! o'er thy battle-bier
Soft shall the maids of Albion smile;
For thee shall fall no woman-tear,
Victorious hero of the Nile!
Reversing o'er thy funeral pile
The flags of Denmark, France, and Spain,
The martial youth of Britain's generous isle
In hymns shall hail thee “Conqueror of the Main.”—
O! thou hast fallen as warriors ought,
Iberia's banner beaten down,
Nor, till the glorious deed was wrought,
Forsook thy comrades of renown.
When many a lingering year is flown,
Shall Britons mark the fateful day,
When Victory brought her fadeless laurel crown,
And bore thee in immortal arms away.—
You, ancient chiefs of deathless praise,
From high celestial thrones, behold!
Say, deem you not our modern days
Shall match the mighty years of old?
Long has the tide of ages roll'd
And brought no rival to your fame:
But now, whene'er your wonderous deeds are told,
Your's shall but rank with mighty Nelson's name.

179

How dark the cloud of war impends!
How wide the bursting tempest flies!
How red the rain of blood descends,
Till Nelson mid the carnage lies!
Red days have flash'd from angry skies—
No common eye can bear to gaze—
But eagle-souls like Nelson's love to rise,
And soaring drink the broad meridian blaze.