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
Hold type of independent reign;
No islet calls thee lord,

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,
That needs nor foreign aid nor arın,
A triumph all thine own.
Such waits thee when thou shalt control
Those passions wild, that stubborn soul,

That marr'd thy prosperous scene:-
Hear this-from no unmoved heart,
Which sighs, comparing what THOU ART
With what thou MIGHT'ST HAVE BEEN!1

XIX.

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

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,
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;
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; 2

To die a prince-or live a slave-
Thy choice is most ignobly brave?"

BYRON'S Ode to Napoleon.

'Tis done-but yesterday a King!
And arm'd with Kings to strive-
And now thou art a nameless thing;
So abject-yet alive!

Is this the man of thousand thrones,
Who strew'd our earth with hostile bones,
And can he thus survive?

Since he, miscall'd the Morning Star,
Nor man nor fiend hath fallen so far."
BYRON'S Ode to Napoleon.

"We left the field of battle in such mood

As human hearts from thence should bear away; And, musing thus, our purposed route pursued,

Which still through scenes of recent bloodshed lav,

Triumph and Sorrow border near.
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.
Here piled in common slaughter sleep
Those whom affection long shall weep:
Here rests the sire, that ne'er shall strain
His orphans to his heart again;
The son, whom, on his native shore,
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.
Thou canst not name one tender tie,
But here dissolved its relics lie!

O! when thou see'st some mourner's veil
Shroud her thin form and visage pale,
Or mark'st the Matron's bursting tears
Stream when the stricken drum she
hears;

Or see'st how manlier grief, suppress'd,
Is labouring in a father's breast,—
With no enquiry vain pursue

The cause, but think on Waterloo!

XXI.

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!
Thou saw'st in seas of gore expire
Redoubted PICTON's soul of fire-
Saw'st in the mingled carnage lie
All that of PONSONBY could die-
DE LANCEY change Love's bridal-wreath,
For laurels from the hand of Death-3
Saw'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 Lochicl;

Where Prussia late, with strong and stern delight,
Hung on her fated foes to persecute their flight."
SOUTHEY.

8 The Poet's friend, Colonel Sir William De Lancey, married the beautiful daughter of Sir James Hall, Bart., in April 1815, and received his mortal wound on the 18th of June. See Captain B. Hall's affecting narrative in the first series of his "Fragments of Voyages and Travels," vol. ii. p. 369.

4 Colonel Miller, of the Guards-son to Sir William Miller, Lord Glenlee. When mortally wounded in the attack on the Bois do Bossu, he desired to see the colours of the regiment once more ere he died. They were waved over his head, and the expiring officer declared himself satisfied.

5 "Colonel Cameron, of Fassiefern, so often distinguished in Lord Wellington's despatches from Spain, fell in the action at Quatre Bras, (16th June 1815), while leading the 92d or Gor. dou Highlanders, to charge a body of cavalry supported by infantry."-Paul's Lellers, p. 91.

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

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 waiting 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 e'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!

Well hast thou stood, my Country !-the brave fight

Hast well maintain'd through good report and ill; In thy just cause and in thy native might, And in Heaven's grace and justice constant still; Whether the banded prowess, strength, and skill Of half the world against thee stood array'd, Or when, with better views and freer will, Beside thee Europe's noblest drew the blade, Each emulous in arms the Ocean Queen to aid.

Well art thou now repaid-though slowly rose,
And struggled long with mists thy blaze of fame,
While like the dawn that in the orient glows
On the broad wave its earlier lustre came; 3
Then eastern Egypt saw the growing flame,
And Maida's myrtles gleam'd beneath its ray,
Where first the soldier, stung with generous shame
Rivall'd the heroes of the wat❜ry way,

And wash'd in foemen's gore unjust reproach away.

Now, Island Empress, wave thy crest on high, And bid the banner of thy Patron flow, Gallant Saint George, the flower of Chivalry, For thou hast faced, like him, a dragon foe, And rescued innocence from overthrow,

There was our strength on that side, and there first, In all its force, the storm of battle burst"-SOUTHEY Mr. Southey adds, in a note on these verses :-"So important a battle, perhaps, was never before fought within so small an extent of ground. I computed the distance between hougomont and Popelot at three miles; in a straight line it might probably not exceed two and a half. Our guide was very much displeased at the name which the battle had obtained in England,-'Why call it the battle of Waterloo?' he said; 'Call it Hougomont, call it La Haye Sainte, call it Popelotany thing but Waterloo.""-Pilgrimage to Waterloo.

8 MS.-"On the broad ocean-first its lustre came.

And trampled down, like him, tyrannic might, And to the gazing world mayst proudly show The chosen emblem of thy sainted Knight, Who quell'd devouring pride, and vindicated right.

Yet 'mid the confidence of just renown,
Renown dear-bought, but dearest thus acquired,
Write, Britain, write the moral lesson down:
"Tis not alone the heart with valour fired,

1 In the Life of Sir W. Scott, vol. v., pp. 99-104, the reader will find a curious record of minute alterations on this poem, suggested, while it was proceeding through the press, by the printer and the bookseller, with the author's good-natured replies, sometimes adopting, sometimes rejecting what was proposed.

"The Field of Waterloo' was published before the end of October, in 8vo.; the profits of the first edition being the author's contribution to the fund raised for the relief of the widows and children of the soldiers slain in the battle. This piece appears to have disappointed those most disposed to sympathize with the author's views and feelings. The descent is indeed heavy from his Bannockburn to his Waterloo: the presence, or all but visible reality of what bis dreams cherished, seems to have overawed his imagination, and tamed it into a weak pomposity of movement. The burst of pure native enthusiasm upon the Scottish heroes that fell around the Duke of Wellington's person, bears, however, the

broadest marks of 'The Mighty Minstrel :'—

-'Saw gallant Miller's fading eye
Still bent where Albion's standards fly,
And Cameron, in the shock of steel,
Die like the offspring of Lochiel,' &c.—
and this is far from being the only redeeming passage

There

The discipline so dreaded and admired, In many a field of bloody conquest known; -Such may by fame be lured, by gold be hired'Tis constancy in the good cause alone, Best justifies the meed thy valiant sons have won.'

END OF THE FIELD OF WATERLOO.2

is one, indeed, in which he illustrates what he then thought Buonaparte's poorness of spirit in adversity, which always struck me as pre-eminently characteristic of Scott's manner of interweaving, both in prose and verse, the moral energies with analogous natural description, and combining thought with imagery:

'Or is thy soui like mountain tide,

That swell'd by winter storm and shower,
Rolls down in turbulence of power,

A torrent fierce and wide;
Reft of these aids, a rill obscure,
Shrinking unnoticed, mean and poor,

Whose channel shows display'd
The wrecks of its impetuous course,
But not one symptom of the force

By which these wrecks were made!' "The poem was the first upon a subject likely to be suffi

ciently hackneyed; and, having the advantage of coming out

in a small cheap form-(prudently imitated from Murray's innovation with the tales of Byron, which was the deathblow to the system of verse in quarto,)-it attained rapidly a mea. sure of circulation above what had been reached either by Rokeby or the Lord of the Isles."-LOCKHART-Life of Scott, vel. v., pp. 106-7.

I from different points, that the day went against him, and that the troops seemed to be disordered; to which he only re plied,- En-avant! En-avant!'

"One general sent to inform the Emperor that he was in a position which he could not maintain, because it was commanded by a battery, and requested to know, at the same time, in what way he should protect his division from the murderous fire of the English artillery. Let him storm the battery,' replied Bonaparte,' and turned his back on the aidede-camp who brought the message." "-Relation de la Battaille de Mont-St-Jean. Par un Témoin Oculaire. Paris. 1815, 8vo p. 51.

NOTE B.

Pale Brussels! then what thoughts were thine.-P. 502. It was affirmed by the prisoners of war, that Bonaparte had promised his army, in case of victory, twenty-four hours' plunder of the city of Brussels.

NOTE C.

"On! On!" was still his stern exclaim.-P. 503.

The characteristic obstinacy of Napoleon was never more fully displayed than in what we may be permitted to hope will prove the last of his fields. He would listen to no advice, and allow of no obstacles. An eye-witness has given the following account of his demeanour towards the end of the action :"It was near seven o'clock; Bonaparte, who till then had remained upon the ridge of the hill whence he could best behold what pussed, contemplated with a stern countenance, the scene of this horrible slaughter. The more that obstacles seemed to multiply, the more his obstinacy seemed to increase. He became indignant at these unforeseen difficulties; and, far from fearing to push to extremities an army whose confidence in him was boundless, he ceased not to pour down fresh troops, and to give orders to march forward-to charge with the bayonet-to carry by storm. He was repeatedly informed,

NOTE D.

The fate their leader shunn'd to share.-P. 503.

It has been reported that Bonaparte charged at the head of his guards, at the last period of this dreadful conflict. This, however, is not accurate. He came down indeed to a hollow part of the high road, leading to Charleroi, within less than a quarter of a mile of the farm of La Haye Sainte, one of the points most fiercely disputed. Here he harangued the guards, and informed them that his preceding operations had des troved the British infantry and cavalry, and that they had only to support the fire of the artillery, which they were to attack with the bayonet. This exhortation was received with shouts of Vive l'Empereur, which were heard over all our line, and led to an idea that Napoleon was charging in person. But the guards were led on by Ney; nor did Bonaparte approach nearer the scene of action than the spot already mentioned, which the rising banks on each side rendered secure from all such balls as did not come in a straight line. He witnessed the earlier part of the battle from places yet more remote, particularly from an observatory which had been placed there by the King of the Netherlands, some weeks before, for the purpose of surveying the country. It is not meant to infer from these particulars that Napoleon showed, on that memorable occasion, the least deficiency in personal courage; on the contrary, he evinced the greatest composure and presence of mind during the whole action. But it is no less true that report has erred in ascribing to him any desperate efforts of valour for recovery of the battle; and it is remarkable, that during the whole carnage, none of his suite

The mistakes concerning this observatory have been mutual. The English supposed it was erected for the use of

Bonaparte: and a French writer affirms it was constructed by the Duke of Wellington.

NOTE G.

The British shock of levell'd steel.-P. 504.

་

No persuasion or authority could prevail upon the French troops to stand the shock of the bayonet. The Imperial Guards, in particular, hardly stood till the British were within thirty yards of them, although the French author, already quoted, has put into their mouths the magnanimous sentiment, "The Guards never yield-they die." The same author has covered the plateau, or eminence, of St. Jean, which formed the British position, with redoubts and retrenchments which never had an existence. As the narrative, which is in many respects curious, was written by an eye-witness, he was probably deceived by the appearance of a road and ditch which run along part of the hill. It may be also mentioned, in criticising this work, that the writer mentions the Chateau of Hougomont to have been carried by the French, although it was resolutely and successfully defended during the whole action. The enemy, indeed, possessed themselves of the wood by which it is surrounded, and at length set fire to the house itself; but the British (a detachment of the Guards, under the command of Colonel Macdonnell, and afterwards of Colonel Home) made good the garden, and thus preserved, by their desperate resistance, the post which covered the return of the Duke of Wellington's right dank.