XL.

FEELINGS OF A FRENCH ROYALIST,

ON THE DISINTERMENT OF THE REMAINS OF THE DUKE
D'ENGHIEN.

DEAR Reliques! from a pit of vilest mould
Uprisen-to lodge among ancestral kings;
And to inflict shame's salutary stings
On the remorseless hearts of men grown old
In a blind worship; men perversely bold
Even to this hour,-yet, some shall now forsake
Their monstrous Idol if the dead e'er spake,
To warn the living; if truth were ever told
By aught redeemed out of the hollow grave:
O murdered Prince! meek, loyal, pious, brave!
The power of retribution once was given:
But 'tis a rueful thought that willow bands
So often tie the thunder-wielding hands
Of Justice sent to earth from highest Heaven!

XLI.

OCCASIONED BY THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO.
(The last six lines intended for an Inscription.)
FEBRUARY, 1316.

INTREPID Sons of Albion! not by you
Is life despised; ah no, the spacious earth
Nc'er saw a race who held, by right of birth,
So many objects to which love is due:

Ye slight not life-to God and Nature true;
But death, becoming death, is dearer far,
When duty bids you bleed in open war:
Hence hath your prowess quelled that impious crew.
Heroes!-for instant sacrifice prepared;
Yet filled with ardour and on triumph bent
'Mid direst shocks of mortal accident-
To

you who fell, and you whom slaughter spared To guard the fallen, and consummate the event, Your Country rears this sacred Monument!

-Chant the Deliverer's praise in every tongue! The cross shall spread, the crescent hath waxed dim ;

'He conquering, as in joyful Heaven is sung, 'HE CONQUERING THROUGH GOD, AND GOD BY HIM *?

XLIII.

OCCASIONED BY THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO.

FEBRUARY, 1816.

THE Bard-whose soul is meek as dawning day,
Yet trained to judgments righteously severe,
Fervid, yet conversànt with holy fear,
As recognising one Almighty sway:
He-whose experienced eye can pierce the array
Of past events; to whom, in vision clear,
The aspiring heads of future things appear,
Like mountain-tops whose mists have rolled away-
Assoiled from all encumbrance of our time †,
He only, if such breathe, in strains devout
Shall comprehend this victory sublime;
Shall worthily rehearse the hideous rout,
The triumph hail, which from their peaceful clime
Angels might welcome with a choral shout!

XLIV.

EMPERORS and Kings, how oft have temples rung
With impious thanksgiving, the Almighty's scorn!
How oft above their altars have been hung
Trophies that led the good and wise to mourn
Triumphant wrong, battle of battle born,
And sorrow that to fruitless sorrow clung!
Now, from Heaven-sanctioned victory, Peace is

sprung;

In this firm hour Salvation lifts her horn.
Glory to arms! But, conscious that the nerve
Of popular reason, long mistrusted, freed
Your thrones, ye Powers, from duty fear to swerve!
Be just, be grateful; nor, the oppressor's creed
Reviving, heavier chastisement deserve
Than ever forced unpitied hearts to bleed.

-The shock is given the Adversaries bleed—
Lo, Justice triumphs! Earth is freed!
Joyful annunciation!--it went forth-
It pierced the caverns of the sluggish North—
It found no barrier on the ridge

Of Andes-frozen gulphs became its bridge-
The vast Pacific gladdens with the freight—
Upon the Lakes of Asia 'tis bestowed-
The Arabian desart shapes a willing road

Across her burning breast,

For this refreshing incense from the West!—
-Where snakes and lions breed,
Where towns and cities thick as stars appear,
Wherever fruits are gathered, and where'er
The upturned soil receives the hopeful seed-
While the Sun rules, and cross the shades of night—
The unwearied arrow hath pursued its flight!
The eyes of good men thankfully give heed,

And in its sparkling progress read

Of virtue crowned with glory's deathless meed: Tyrants exult to hear of kingdoms won,

And slaves are pleased to learn that mighty feats are done;

Even the proud Realm, from whose distracted borders

This messenger of good was launched in air,
France, humbled France, amid her wild disorders,
Feels, and hereafter shall the truth declare,
That she too lacks not reason to rejoice,

And utter England's name with sadly-plausive voice.

IL

O genuine glory, pure renown!

And well might it beseem that mighty Town
Into whose bosom earth's best treasures flow,
To whom all persecuted men retreat;
If a new Temple lift her votive brow
High on the shore of silver Thames to greet

The peaceful guest advancing from afar.
Bright be the Fabric, as a star

Fresh risen, and beautiful within !-there meet
Dependence infinite, proportion just;

A Pile that Grace approves, and Time can trust With his most sacred wealth, heroic dust.

III.

But if the valiant of this land

In reverential modesty demand,
That all observance, due to them, be paid
Where their serene progenitors are laid;
Kings, warriors, high-souled poets, saint-like sages,
England's illustrious sons of long, long ages;
Be it not unordained that solemn rites,
Within the circuit of those Gothic walls,
Shall be performed at pregnant intervals;
Commemoration holy that unites

The living generations with the dead;
By the deep soul-moving sense

Of religious eloquence,—
By visual pomp, and by the tie
Of sweet and threatening harmony;
Soft notes, awful as the omen
Of destructive tempests coming,
And escaping from that sadness
Into elevated gladness;

While the white-rob'd choir attendant,
Under mouldering banners pendant,
Provoke all potent symphonies to raise
Songs of victory and praise,

For them who bravely stood unhurt, or bled
With medicable wounds, or found their graves
Upon the battle field, or under ocean's waves;
Or were conducted home in single state,
And long procession-there to lie,
Where their sons' sons, and all posterity,
Unheard by them, their deeds shall celebrate!

IV.

Nor will the God of peace and love
Such martial service disapprove.
He guides the Pestilence-the cloud
Of locusts travels on his breath;

The region that in hope was ploughed
His drought consumes, his mildew taints with death;
He springs the hushed Volcano's mine,
He puts the Earthquake on her still design,
Darkens the sun, hath bade the forest sink,
And, drinking towns and cities, still can drink
Cities and towns-'tis Thou-the work is Thine!-
The fierce Tornado sleeps within thy courts-
He hears the word-he flies
And navies perish in their ports;

Of morning dew upon the untrodden meads,
Shall live enrolled above the starry spheres.
He, who in concert with an earthly string
Of Britain's acts would sing,

He with enraptured voice will tell
Of One whose spirit no reverse could quell;
Of One that mid the failing never failed—
Who paints how Britain struggled and prevailed
Shall represent her labouring with an eye

Of circumspect humanity;

Shall show her clothed with strength and skill,
All martial duties to fulfil;

Firm as a rock in stationary fight;
In motion rapid as the lightning's gleam;
Fierce as a flood-gate bursting at mid night
To rouse the wicked from their giddy dream—
Woe, woe to all that face her in the field!
Appalled she may not be, and cannot yield.

VI.

A crouching purpose-a distracted willOpposed to hopes that battened upon scorn, And to desires whose ever-waxing horn Not all the light of earthly power could fill; Opposed to dark, deep plots of patient skill, And to celerities of lawless force;

Which, spurning God, had flung away remorse-
What could they gain but shadows of redress?
-So bad proceeded propagating worse;
And discipline was passion's dire excess.
Widens the fatal web, its lines extend,
And deadlier poisons in the chalice blend.
When will your trials teach you to be wise?
-O prostrate Lands, consult your agonies!

IV.

And thus is missed the sole true glory
That can belong to human story!
At which they only shall arrive

Who through the abyss of weakness dive.
The very humblest are too proud of heart;
And one brief day is rightly set apart
For Him who lifteth up and layeth low;
For that Almighty God to whom we owe,

Say not that we have vanquished-but that we survive.

VII.

No more the guilt is banish'd,

And, with the guilt, the shame is fled; And, with the guilt and shame, the Woe hath vanish'd,

Shaking the dust and ashes from her head!
-No more-these lingerings of distress
Sully the limpid stream of thankfulness.
What robe can Gratitude employ

So seemly as the radiant vest of Joy?
What steps so suitable as those that move
In prompt obedience to spontaneous measures
Of glory, and felicity, and love,

Surrendering the whole heart to sacred pleasures!

V.

How dreadful the dominion of the impure!
Why should the Song be tardy to proclaim
That less than power unbounded could not tame
That soul of Evil-which, from hell let loose,
Had filled the astonished world with such abuse
As boundless patience only could endure?
-Wide-wasted regions-cities wrapt in flame-
Who sees, may lift a streaming eye

To Heaven;-who never saw, may heave a sigh;
But the foundation of our nature shakes,
And with an infinite pain the spirit aches,
When desolated countries, towns on fire,

Are but the avowed attire

Of warfare waged with desperate mind
Against the life of virtue in mankind;
Assaulting without ruth

The citadels of truth;

While the fair gardens of civility,

By ignorance defaced,

By violence laid waste,

Perish without reprieve for flower or tree!

VIII.

O Britain! dearer far than life is dear, If one there be

Of all thy progeny

Who can forget thy prowess, never more
1.Be that ungrateful Son allowed to hear
Thy green leaves rustle or thy torrents roar.
As springs the lion from his den,
As from a forest-brake
Upstarts a glistering snake,

The bold Arch-despot re-appeared ;—again
Wide Europe heaves, impatient to be cast,
With all her armèd Powers,

On that offensive soil, like waves upon a
thousand shores.

The trumpet blew a universal blast!

But Thou art foremost in the field :-there stand:
Receive the triumph destined to thy hand!
All States have glorified themselves; their claims
Are weighed by Providence, in balance even;

And now, in preference to the mightiest names, To Thee the exterminating sword is given. Dread mark of approbation, justly gained! Exalted office, worthily sustained!

IX.

Preserve, O Lord! within our hearts
The memory of thy favour,
That else insensibly departs,
And loses its sweet savour!

Lodge it within us !—as the power of light
Lives inexhaustibly in precious gems,
Fixed on the front of Eastern diadems,
So shine our thankfulness for ever bright!
What offering, what transcendent monument
Shall our sincerity to Thee present?

-Not work of hands; but trophies that may

reach

To highest Heaven-the labour of the Soul;
That builds, as thy unerring precepts teach,
Upon the internal conquests made by each,
Her hope of lasting glory for the whole.
Yet will not heaven disown nor earth gainsay
The outward service of this day;
Whether the worshippers entreat
Forgiveness from God's mercy-seat;
Or thanks and praises to His throne ascend
That He has brought our warfare to an end,
And that we need no second victory!-
Ha! what a ghastly sight for man to see;
And to the heavenly saints in peace who dwell,
For a brief moment, terrible;
But, to thy sovereign penetration, fair,
Before whom all things are, that were,
All judgments that have been, or e'er shall be;
Links in the chain of thy tranquillity!
Along the bosom of this favoured Nation,
Breathe Thou, this day, a vital undulation!
Let all who do this land inherit
Be conscious of thy moving spirit!
Oh, 'tis a goodly Ordinance, the sight,
Though sprung from bleeding war, is one of pure

delight;

Bless Thou the hour, or ere the hour arrive,
When a whole people shall kneel down in prayer,
And, at one moment, in one rapture, strive
With lip and heart to tell their gratitude
For thy protecting care,

But hark-the summons !--down the placid lake Floats the soft cadence of the church-tower bells; Bright shines the Sun, as if his beams would wake The tender insects sleeping in their cells; Bright shines the Sun-and not a breeze to shake The drops that tip the melting icicles.

O, enter now his temple gate!
Inviting words-perchance already flung
(As the crowd press devoutly down the aisle
Of some old Minster's venerable pile)
From voices into zealous passion stung,
While the tubed engine feels the inspiring blast,
And has begun-its clouds of sound to cast
Forth towards empyreal Heaven,

As if the fretted roof were riven.
Us, humbler ceremonies now await;
But in the bosom, with devout respect
The banner of our joy we will erect,
And strength of love our souls shall elevate:
For to a few collected in his name,
Their heavenly Father will incline an ear
Gracious to service hallowed by its aim ;-
Awake! the majesty of God revere !

Go-and with foreheads meekly bowed
Present your prayers-go-and rejoice aloud-
The Holy One will hear!
And what, 'mid silence deep, with faith sincere,
Ye, in your low and undisturbed estate,
Shall simply feel and purely meditate—
Of warnings from the unprecedented might,
Which, in our time, the impious have disclosed;
And of more arduous duties thence imposed
Upon the future advocates of right;
Of mysteries revealed,
And judgments unrepealed,
Of earthly revolution,

And final retribution,

To his omniscience will appear

An offering not unworthy to find place, On this high DAY of THANKS, before the Throne of Grace!