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Ye whose relics rest around,
Of peace, in battle twice achieved;
One who reverently, for thee,
THE HOLLY TREE.
O Reader! hast thou ever stood to see
The eye that contemplates it well perceives
Order'd by an intelligence so wise,
As might confound the Atheist's sophistries.
Below, a circling fence, its leaves are seen
No grazing cattle through their prickly round
But as they grow where nothing is to fear, Smooth and unarm'd the pointless leaves appear.
I love to view these things with curious eyes,
And in this wisdom of the Holly Tree
Can emblems see
Wherewith perchance to make a pleasant rhyme, One which may profit in the after time.
Thus, though abroad perchance I might appear Harsh and austere,
To those who on my leisure would intrude
Gentle at home amid my friends I'd be
And should my youth, as youth is apt I know, Some harshness show,
All vain asperities I day by day
Would wear away,
Till the smooth temper of my age should be
And as when all the summer trees are seen
The Holly leaves a sober hue display
Less bright than they,
But when the bare and wintry woods we see,
So serious should my youth appear among
So would I seem amid the young and gay
That in my age as cheerful I might be
THE BATTLE OF BLENHEIM,
It was a summer evening,
And by him sported on the green
She saw her brother Peterkin
Roll something large and round,
In playing there had found;
Old Kaspar took it from the boy,
And then the old man shook his head,
And with a natural sigh,
"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!
'Now tell us what 't was all about,'
With wonder-waiting eyes;
And what they fought each other for.'
It was the English,' Kaspar cried, 'Who put the French to rout; But what they fought each other for, I could not well make out; But every body said,' quoth he, 'That 't was a famous victory.
'My father lived at Blenheim then,
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,
But things like that, you know, must be At every famous victory.
'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 After a famous victory.
'Great praise the Duke of Marlbro' won, And our good Prince Eugene.' 'Why 't was a very wicked thing!'
Said little Wilhelmine.
'Nay.. nay. . my little girl,' quoth he. 'It was a famous victory.
'And everybody praised the Duke
'Why that I cannot tell,' said he,
STANZAS WRITTEN IN HIS LIBRARY.
My days among the Dead are past;
With them I take delight in weal,
And while I understand and feel