'Tis madness to resist or blame As if his highest plot And Hampton shows what part He had of wiser art; Where, twining subtile fears with hope, SCOTLAND. I MIND it weel, in early date, When I was beardless, young, and blate, And first could thresh the barn; Or haud a yokin' at the pleugh; An' though forfoughten sair eneugh, Yet unco proud to learn! Even then, a wish (I mind its power), A wish that to my latest hour Shall strongly heave my breastThat I for poor auld Scotland's sake Some usefu' plan or book could make, Or sing a sang at least. The rough burr-thistle spreading wide Outspoke the victor then, As he hailed them o'er the wave, "Ye are brothers! ye are men! And we conquer but to save: So peace instead of death let us bring. But yield, proud foe, thy fleet, Then Denmark blest our chief, As death withdrew his shades from the day; While the sun looked smiling bright YE MARINERS OF ENGLAND. YE mariners of England! The battle and the breeze: Your glorious standard launch again, And sweep through the deep, The spirit of your fathers Her march is o'er the mountain waves, Her home is on the deep. With thunders from her native oak The meteor flag of England Till danger's troubled night depart, In both from age to age, thou didst rejoice, They were thy chosen music, Liberty! There came a tyrant, and with holy glee Thou foughtst against him, but hast vainly striven; Thou from thy Alpine holds at length art driven, Where not a torrent murmurs heard by thee. Of one deep bliss thine ear hath been bereft: Then cleave, O cleave to that which still is left; For, high-souled maid, what sorrow would it be That mountain floods should thunder as before, And ocean bellow from his rocky shore, And neither awful voice be heard by thee! THERE was a sound of revelry by night, And Belgium's capital had gathered then Her beauty and her chivalry, and bright The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men: A thousand hearts beat happily; and when Music arose with its voluptuous swell, Soft eyes looked love to eyes which spake again, And all went merry as a marriage bell; But hush! hark! a deep sound strikes like a rising knell! Did ye not hear it?-No; 'twas but the wind, Or the car rattling o'er the stony street: On with the dance! let joy be unconfined; Ah! then and there was hurrying to and fro, And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress, And cheeks all pale, which, but an hour ago, Blushed at the praise of their own loveliness; And there were sudden partings, such as press The life from out young hearts, and choking sighs Which ne'er might be repeated: who could guess If ever more should meet those mutual eyes, Since upon night so sweet such awful morn could rise? And there was mounting in hot haste: the steed, The mustering squadron, and the clattering car, Went pouring forward with impetuous speed, Commanding fires of death to light The darkness of her scenery. By torch and trumpet fast arrayed, Each horseman drew his battle blade, And furious every charger neighed, To join the dreadful revelry. Then shook the hills with thunder riven, Then rushed the steed to battle driven, And louder than the bolts of heaven Far flashed the red artillery. But redder yet that light shall glow On Linden's hills of stainèd snow, 'Tis morn, but scarce yon lurid sun Can pierce the war-clouds, rolling dun, Where furious Frank and fiery Hun Shout in their sulphurous canopy. The combat deepens. On, ye brave, Who rush to glory, or the grave! Wave, Munich, all thy banners wave! And charge with all thy chivalry! Ah! few shall part where many meet! The snow shall be their windingsheet, And every turf beneath their feet SONNET. CAMPBELL. It is not to be thought of that the flood Of British freedom, which, to the open sea Of the world's praise, from dark antiquity Hath flowed, "with pomp of waters unwithstood," Roused though it be full often to a mood Which spurns the check of salutary bands, That this most famous stream in bogs and sands Should perish, and to evil and to good |