CONSOLATION (CANTO III, xiii-xv) Where rose the mountains, there to him were friends; Where roll'd the ocean, thereon was his home; Where a blue sky, and glowing clime, extends, He had the passion and the power to roam; The desert, forest, cavern, breaker's foam, Were unto him companionship; they spake A mutual language, clearer than the tome Of his land's tongue, which he would oft forsake For Nature's pages glass'd by sunbeams on the lake. ΤΟ Like the Chaldean, he could watch the stars, To which it mounts, as if to break the link But in Man's dwellings he became a thing 20 WATERLOO (CANTO III, xvii, xxi-xxx) Stop!-for thy tread is on an Empire's dust! An Earthquake's spoil is sepulchred below! Is the spot mark'd with no colossal bust ? Nor column trophied for triumphal show? None; but the moral's truth tells simpler so, As the ground was before, thus let it be ;How that red rain hath made the harvest grow! And is this all the world has gain'd by thee, Thou first and last of fields! king-making Victory? There was a sound of revelry by night, Music arose with its voluptuous swell, Soft eyes look'd love to eyes which spake again, ΤΟ But hush! hark! a deep sound strikes like a rising knell ! 20 Did ye not hear it ?—No; 'twas but the wind, And nearer, clearer, deadlier than before ! Arm! Arm! it is-it is-the cannon's opening roar! Within a window'd niche of that high hall 30 And when they smiled because he deem'd it near, His heart more truly knew that peal too well Which stretch'd his father on a bloody bier, 40 And roused the vengeance blood alone could quell; He rush'd into the field, and, foremost fighting, fell. 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 Blush'd 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, And swiftly forming in the ranks of war; And the deep thunder peal on peal afar; And near, the beat of the alarming drum Roused up the soldier ere the morning star; While throng'd the citizens with terror dumb, Or whispering, with white lips-" The foe! they come! they come ! 50 And wild and high the " Cameron's gathering " rose ! бо And Evan's, Donald's fame rings in each clansman's ears! And Ardennes waves above them her green leaves, Dewy with nature's tear-drops as they pass, Grieving, if aught inanimate e'er grieves, Over the unreturning brave,-alas! Ere evening to be trodden like the grass Which now beneath them, but above shall grow Of living valour, rolling on the foe 70 And burning with high hope, shall moulder cold and low. Last noon beheld them full of lusty life, 79 The thunder-clouds close o'er it, which when rent The earth is cover'd thick with other clay, Which her own clay shall cover, heap'd and pent, Rider and horse,-friend, foe,-in one red burial blent ! Their praise is hymn'd by loftier harps than mine : Yet one I would select from that proud throng, Partly because they blend me with his line, And partly that I did his sire some wrong, And partly that bright names will hallow song; And his was of the bravest, and when shower'd The death-bolts deadliest the thinn'd files along, Even where the thickest of war's tempest lower'd, They reach'd no nobler breast than thine, young gallant Howard! 90 There have been tears and breaking hearts for thee, I turn'd from all she brought to those she could not bring. NAPOLEON (CANTO III, Xxxvi-xliv) There sunk the greatest, nor the worst of men, One moment of the mightiest, and again Extreme in all things! hadst thou been betwixt, And shake again the world, the Thunderer of the scene! Conqueror and captive of the earth art thou! ΤΟ Who deem'd thee for a time whate'er thou didst assert. Oh, more or less than man-in high or low, 20 Look through thine own, nor curb the lust of war, Nor learn that tempted Fate will leave the loftiest star. Yet well thy soul hath brook'd the turning tide Which, be it wisdom, coldness, or deep pride, When the whole host of hatred stood hard by, 30 |