 | Stanzas on Lord Nelson's death and victory |  |
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STANZAS ON LORD NELSON'S DEATH AND VICTORY.
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Yes! Nelson's gone, Britannia's shield and pride;
Let her brave sons their honor'd Chief deplore;
How in the Arms of Victory he died,
He died a hero! Who can wish for more?
Let her brave sons their honor'd Chief deplore;
How in the Arms of Victory he died,
He died a hero! Who can wish for more?
But let not Conquest wipe away a tear,
Nor hush'd our sighs by Exultation's flood;
For O! the Price of Victory how dear,
When bought by Nelson's groans, and Nelson's blood.
Nor hush'd our sighs by Exultation's flood;
For O! the Price of Victory how dear,
When bought by Nelson's groans, and Nelson's blood.
O see th' expiring Chief 'midst Conquest's rays,
Yield up the fleeting Breath that Nature gave;
Enrapt in glory, one unclouded blaze!
He looks for Heav'n, and smiles upon the Grave.
Yield up the fleeting Breath that Nature gave;
Enrapt in glory, one unclouded blaze!
He looks for Heav'n, and smiles upon the Grave.
Let not the Muse attempt the task in vain,
His Name to crown with never fading bays;
O let be warbled out the sweetest strain,
To sing a dying Hero's lasting praise.
His Name to crown with never fading bays;
O let be warbled out the sweetest strain,
To sing a dying Hero's lasting praise.
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But when by Vengeance fir'd—O let the Verse
Resound—and like the raging torrent roar;
While we with indignation pour the curse,
On that fell hand which made our Chief no more.
Resound—and like the raging torrent roar;
While we with indignation pour the curse,
On that fell hand which made our Chief no more.
Each Sea before scarce known, renown'd he made;
From Denmark's coast, to Egypt's burning shore;
In each the Hero's glory was display'd,
And all some lasting marks of Conquest bore.
From Denmark's coast, to Egypt's burning shore;
In each the Hero's glory was display'd,
And all some lasting marks of Conquest bore.
But now, no more his breast for fame shall beat,
Around the Crew his wonted fire impart;
No more return to hear the welcome greet,
That comes from every Briton's grateful heart.
Around the Crew his wonted fire impart;
No more return to hear the welcome greet,
That comes from every Briton's grateful heart.
But yet shall Nelson (number'd with the dead)
In dark oblivion's habitation rest?
He who in Briton's Cause so nobly bled,
Shall find a tomb in ev'ry Briton's breast.
In dark oblivion's habitation rest?
He who in Briton's Cause so nobly bled,
Shall find a tomb in ev'ry Briton's breast.
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For ev'ry Hero's bosom sure must bleed,
To hear how great his brave Protector fell;
And weep with rapture o'er each warlike deed,
And in the softest strains his feelings tell.
To hear how great his brave Protector fell;
And weep with rapture o'er each warlike deed,
And in the softest strains his feelings tell.
Then let this land in one loud Chorus join,
His works be ever blazon'd by the Muse;
And let sweet sorrow dignify each line,
That meek-eye'd pity only can infuse.
His works be ever blazon'd by the Muse;
And let sweet sorrow dignify each line,
That meek-eye'd pity only can infuse.
Weep, Britain, weep in agonizing woe,
And let your tears bedew his honor'd hearse;
Let ev'ry honor Britain can bestow,
In Sculpture shine, and live in tuneful Verse.
And let your tears bedew his honor'd hearse;
Let ev'ry honor Britain can bestow,
In Sculpture shine, and live in tuneful Verse.
That future ages may with rapture learn,
How good, and yet how great a man was he,
And teach their bosoms like his own to burn,
That Britain still may shine a nation free.
How good, and yet how great a man was he,
And teach their bosoms like his own to burn,
That Britain still may shine a nation free.
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Tho' Gallia's sons rejoice at Nelson's fate,
While we with briny tears bedew his grave;
Yet heav'n indulgent opens Conquest's gate,
Gladly receives, and shines upon the brave.
While we with briny tears bedew his grave;
Yet heav'n indulgent opens Conquest's gate,
Gladly receives, and shines upon the brave.
And thou Trafalgar! now of high renown,
Britannia's annals shall record thy fame;
Nelson did thee with brilliant Conquest crown,
And added lustre to his honor'd Name.
Britannia's annals shall record thy fame;
Nelson did thee with brilliant Conquest crown,
And added lustre to his honor'd Name.
And you, ye Britons, to your Country true,
Nerve ev'ry arm, revenge your Hero's death;
'Tis Nelson's Spirit asks revenge from you!
He calls for Vengeance with his dying breath.
Nerve ev'ry arm, revenge your Hero's death;
'Tis Nelson's Spirit asks revenge from you!
He calls for Vengeance with his dying breath.
O let the haughty foe your valor feel,
Let France in you a Nelson now behold;
Let Briton's ne'er before a tyrant kneel,
But imitate their Ancestors of old.
Let France in you a Nelson now behold;
Let Briton's ne'er before a tyrant kneel,
But imitate their Ancestors of old.
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For tho' he's gone may there a Hero rise,
(Still be the subject of the Muse's lyre;)
May Nelson's soul descending from the skies,
Pour in each Hero's breast its matchless fire.
(Still be the subject of the Muse's lyre;)
May Nelson's soul descending from the skies,
Pour in each Hero's breast its matchless fire.
When battles rag'd, was he amid the scene,
Most calmly waiting the eventful hour;
Amidst the war of elements, serene,
He gave the Victory to a greater Pow'r.
Most calmly waiting the eventful hour;
Amidst the war of elements, serene,
He gave the Victory to a greater Pow'r.
And now one wish for Vengeance has possest
The souls of Heroes oft in fight renown'd;
Revenge is planted in each manly breast,
And Heav'n all bounteous soon their wishes crown'd.
The souls of Heroes oft in fight renown'd;
Revenge is planted in each manly breast,
And Heav'n all bounteous soon their wishes crown'd.
Headed by gallant Strachan quick they meet,
Four straggling Ships who put their trust to flight,
Briton's best genius hovers o'er the fleet,
And Nelson's Spirit spurs them to the fight.
Four straggling Ships who put their trust to flight,
Briton's best genius hovers o'er the fleet,
And Nelson's Spirit spurs them to the fight.
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They meet, they close—a conflict dire they wage,
Each shot unerring, gives the destin'd blow;
Compell'd to strike—to Britain's conquering rage,
Thus Briton's Vengeance shall their schemes o'erthrow.
Each shot unerring, gives the destin'd blow;
Compell'd to strike—to Britain's conquering rage,
Thus Briton's Vengeance shall their schemes o'erthrow.
But let us still our Hero's fate deplore,
Nor cease the tear of Sympathy to flow;
He's gone t' enjoy upon a brighter shore,
That spotless glory which he gain'd below.
Nor cease the tear of Sympathy to flow;
He's gone t' enjoy upon a brighter shore,
That spotless glory which he gain'd below.
And should these lines from any Briton's eye
Draw but one tear, for bravery like this;
My wish is gain'd. A British Hero's sigh,
Will waft his Spirit to the realms of bliss.
Draw but one tear, for bravery like this;
My wish is gain'd. A British Hero's sigh,
Will waft his Spirit to the realms of bliss.
And thou blest Spirit, so enrapt in bays,
Thou who art crown'd with glory from above;
This simple Verse can ne'er encrease thy praise,
But only shew a grateful Briton's love.
Thou who art crown'd with glory from above;
This simple Verse can ne'er encrease thy praise,
But only shew a grateful Briton's love.
FINIS.
| Stanzas on Lord Nelson's death and victory | |