THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. O good gray head which all men knew, O voice from which their omens all men drew, O fall'n at length that tower of strength Which stood four-square to all the winds that blew ! The long self-sacrifice of life is o'er: The great World-victor's victor will be seen no more. V. All is over and done: Render thanks to the Giver, England, for thy son. Let the bell be toll'd. Render thanks to the Giver, And render him to the mould. Under the cross of gold That shines over city and river, There he shall rest for ever Among the wise and the bold. Let the bell be toll'd; And a reverent people behold The towering car, the sable steeds : Bright let it be with his blazon'd deeds, 7 Dark in its funeral fold. Let the bell be toll'd; And the sound of the sorrowing anthem roll'd And the volleying cannon thunder his loss; For many a time in many a clime In that dread sound to the great name, To such a name Preserve a broad approach of fame, THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 9 VI. Who is he that cometh, like an honour'd guest, With banner and with music, with soldier and with priest, With a nation weeping, and breaking on my rest? Mighty seaman, this is he Was great by land as thou by sea. Thine island loves thee well, thou famous man, The greatest sailor since our world began. Now, to the roll of muffled drums, To thee the greatest soldier comes; Was great by land as thou by sea; And underneath another sun Made the soldier, led him on, And ever great and greater grew, Beating from the wasted vines All their marshals' bandit swarms Back to France with countless blows; Till their host of eagles flew Past the Pyrenean pines, Follow'd up in valley and glen Again their ravening eagle rose In anger, wheel'd on Europe-shadowing wings, Till one that sought but Duty's iron crown On that loud sabbath shook the spoiler down A day of onsets of despair! Dash'd on every rocky square Their surging charges foam'd themselves away; Last, the Prussian trumpet blew ; Thro' the long-tormented air Heaven flash'd a sudden jubilant ray, And down we swept and charged and overthrew. So great a soldier taught us there, ་ THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. What long-enduring hearts could do In that world's-earthquake, Waterloo ! And pure as he from taint of craven guile, O shaker of the Baltic and the Nile, Be glad, because his bones are laid by thine! And thro' the centuries let a people's voice A people's voice, The proof and echo of all human fame, A people's voice, when they rejoice At civic revel and pomp and game, Attest their great commander's claim, With honour, honour, honour, honour to him, Eternal honour to his name. VII. A people's voice! we are a people yet. 11 |