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Then safely come-in one so low,
So lost, we cannot own a foe ;
370 Though dear experience bid us end,
In thee we ne'er can hail a friend.-
Come, howsoe'er-but do not hide
Close in thy heart that germ of pride,
Erewhile by gifted bard espied,

375

That "yet imperial hope;"
Think not, that for a fresh rebound,
To raise ambition from the ground,
We yield thee means or scope.
In safety come-but ne'er again
380 Hold type of independent reign;
No islet calls thee lord;

385

We leave thee no confederate band,
No symbol of thy lost command,

To be a dagger in the hand,

From which we wrench'd the sword.

XVIII.

Yet, even in yon sequester'd spot,
May worthier conquest be thy lot,
Than yet thy life has known;
Conquest, unbought by blood or harm,
390 That needs nor foreign aid nor arm,
A triumph all thine own.

Such waits thee, when thou shalt control
Those passions wild, that stubborn soul,

That marr'd thy prosperous scene :

870. End.-Conclude, come to the conclusion.

374. Gifted bard.-Lord Byron, in his Ode to Napoleon, fifth stanza.

380. Allusion to the sovereignty of Elba, conferred on Napoleon after the first peace of Paris 1814.

886. Yon sequester'd spot.-St. Helena.

390. Foreign.-The English language lacks an adjective to express the Latin alienus, which we must render by the Genitive another's. The word foreign, which here takes its place, is too much restricted to denote that which belongs to other countries, to be quite clear, at first sight, in this passage.

395 Hear this-from no unmoved heart, Which sighs, comparing what THOU ART

With what thou MIGHT'ST HAVE BEEN!

XIX.

Thou too, whose deeds of fame renew'd
Bankrupt a nation's gratitude,

400 To thine own noble heart must owe
More than the meed, she can bestow.
For not a people's just acclaim,
Not the full hail of Europe's fame,
Thy Prince's smiles, thy State's decree,
405 The ducal rank, the garter'd knee,
Not these such pure delight afford
As that, when hanging up thy sword,
Well may'st thou think, "This honest steel
Was ever drawn for public weal;

410 And, such was rightful Heaven's decree,
Ne'er sheathed unless with victory!"

XX.

Look forth, once more, with soften❜d heart,
Ere from the field of fame we part;
Triumph and Sorrow border near,

415 And joy oft melts into a tear.

Alas! what links of love that morn
Has War's rude hand asunder torn!
For ne'er was field so sternly fought,
And ne'er was conquest dearer bought.
420 Here piled in common slaughter sleep
Those, whom affection long shall weep:

399. Bankrupt.-Thy renewed deeds of fame bankrupt, i.e., exhaust our power of showing thee gratitude as a nation.

403. The hail of fame.-A rather strained expression, meaning the acclamation with which the fame of Europe greets the hero.

Here rests the sire, that ne'er shall strain
His orphans to his heart again;

The son, whom on his native shore
425 The parent's voice shall bless no more;
The bridegroom, who has hardly press'd
His blushing consort to his breast;

The husband, whom through many a year
Long love and mutual faith endear.

430 Thou canst not name one tender tie,
But here dissolved its relics lie!

Oh! when thou see'st some mourner's veil Shroud her thin form and visage pale, Or mark'st the Matron's bursting tears 135 Stream, when the stricken drum she hears; Or see'st, how manlier grief, suppress'd, Is labouring in a father's breast,— With no inquiry vain pursue

The cause, but think on Waterloo !

XXI.

440 Period of honour as of woes,

What bright careers 'twas thine to close !Mark'd on thy roll of blood, what names To Briton's memory, and to Fame's, Laid there their last immortal claims ! 445 Thou saw'st in seas of gore expire Redoubted PICTON'S Soul of fireSaw'st in the mingled carnage lie All that of PONSONBY Could die

DE LANCEY change Love's bridal-wreath 450 For laurels from the hand of DeathSaw'st gallant MILLER'S failing eye Still bent, where Albion's banners fly, And CAMERON, in the shock of steel, Die like the offspring of Lochiel ;

455 And generous GORDON, 'mid the strife, Fall, while he watch'd his leader's life.Ah! though her guardian angel's shield Fenced Britain's hero through the field, Fate not the less her power made known, 460 Through his friends' hearts to pierce his own!

XXII.

Forgive, brave Dead, the imperfect lay!
Who may your names, your numbers, say
What high-strung harp, what lofty line,
To each the dear-earn'd praise assign,
465 From high-born chiefs of martial fame
To the poor soldier's lowlier name?
Lightly ye rose that dawning day,

From your cold couch of swamp and clay
To fill, before the sun was low,

470 The bed, that morning cannot know.-
Oft may the tear the green sod steep,
And sacred be the heroes' sleep,

Till time shall cease to run;

And ne'er beside their noble grave
475 May Briton pass and fail to crave
A blessing on the fallen brave,
Who fought with Wellington!

?

XXIII.

Farewell, sad Field! whose blighted face
Wears desolation's withering trace;

480 Long shall my memory retain

Thy shatter'd huts and trampled grain,
With every mark of martial wrong,
That scathe thy towers, fair Hougomont !
Yet though thy garden's green arcade
485 The marksman's fatal post was made,

Though on thy shatter'd beeches fell
The blended rage of shot and shell,
Though from thy blacken'd portals torn,
Their fall thy blighted fruit-trees mourn.
490 Has not such havoc bought a name
Immortal in the rolls of fame ?
Yes-Agincourt may be forgot,
And Cressy be an unknown spot,
And Blenheim's name be new;

495 But still in story and in song,
For many an age remember'd long,
Shall live the towers of Hougomont,
And Field of Waterloo.

500

505

510

515

CONCLUSION.

STERN tide of human Time! that know'st not rest,
But, sweeping from the cradle to the tomb,
Bear'st ever downward on thy dusky breast
Successive generations to their doom;
While thy capacious stream has equal room
For the gay bark where Pleasure's streamers sport,
And for the prison-ship of guilt and gloom,
The fisher-skiff, and barge that bears a court,
Still wafting onward all to one dark silent port ;-

Stern tide of Time! through what mysterious change
Of hope and fear have our frail barks been driven !
For ne'er before, vicissitude so strange

Was to one race of Adam's offspring given.
And sure such varied change of sea and heaven,
Such unexpected bursts of joy and woe,

Such fearful strife as that, where we have striven,
Succeeding ages ne'er again shall know,

Until the awful term, when Thou shalt cease to flow!

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