ENGLAND'S DEAD. Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone But half of our heavy task was done When the clock struck the hour for retiring; And we heard the distant and random gun That the foe was sullenly firing. Slowly and sadly we laid him down, From the field of his fame fresh and gory; We carved not a line, and we raised not a stoneBut we left him alone with his glory. 67 Charles Wolfe. ENGLAND'S DEAD. SON of the ocean isle! Where sleep your mighty dead? Go, stranger! track the deep, On Egypt's burning plains, With fearful power the noon-day reigns, 68 ENGLAND'S DEAD. But let the angry sun From Heaven look fiercely red, The hurricane hath might And far, by Ganges' banks at night, But let the sound roll on! It hath no tone of dread, For those that from their toils are gone;- Loud rush the torrent-floods And free, in green Columbia's woods, But let the floods rush on! The mountain-storms rise high In the snowy Pyrenees, And toss the pine-boughs through the sky, But let the storm rage on! Let the forest-wreaths be shed; ENGLAND'S DEAD. On the frozen deep's repose But let the ice drift on! Let the cold-blue desert spread! Their course with mast and flag is done, There slumber England's dead. The warlike of the isles, The men of field and wave! Are not the rocks their funeral piles, Go, stranger! track the deep, Wave may not foam, nor wild wind sweep, Mrs. Hemans. 69 70 AFTER BLENHEIM. AFTER BLENHEIM. It was a summer evening, And by him sported on the green She saw her brother Peterkin He came to ask what he had found Old Kaspar took it from the boy Who stood expectant by: And then the old man shook his head, ""Tis some poor fellow's skull," said he, "I find them in the garden, For there's many here about; The ploughshare turns them out. 1 AFTER BLENHEIM. "Now tell us what 'twas all about," Young Peterkin he cries; And little Wilhelmine looks up With wonder-waiting eyes; "Now tell us all about the war, And what they fought each other for." "It was the English," Kaspar cried, "My father lived at Blenheim then, They burnt his dwelling to the ground, So with his wife and child he fled, "With fire and sword the country round Was wasted far and wide, And many a childing mother then And newborn baby died: But things like that, you know, must be "They say it was a shocking sight After the field was won; For many thousand bodies here Lay rotting in the sun: But things like that, you know, must be 71 |