Drake, Nelson and Napoleon Part 12

For Denmark here had drawn All her might; From her battle-s.h.i.+ps so vast She had hewn away the mast, And at anchor, to the last Bade them fight.

Another n.o.ble fleet Of their line Rode out; but these were nought To the batteries which they brought, Like Leviathans afloat In the brine.

It was ten of Thursday morn By the chime; As they drifted on their path There was silence deep as death, And the n.o.blest held his breath For a time- Ere a first and fatal round Shook the flood.

Every Dane looked out that day.

Like the red wolf on his prey, And he swore his flag to sway O'er our blood.

Not such a mind possessed England's tar; 'Twas the love of n.o.ble game Set his oaken heart on flame, For to him 'twas all the same, Sport and war.

All hands and eyes on watch As they keep; By their motion light as wings, By each step that haughty springs, You might know them for the kings Of the deep.

'Twas the Edgar first that smote Denmark's line As her flag the foremost soared, Murray stamped his foot on board, And an hundred cannons roared At the sign.

Three cheers of all the fleet Sung Huzza!

Then from centre, rear, and van, Every captain, every man, With a lion's heart began To the fray.

Oh, dark grew soon the heavens- For each gun, From its adamantine lips, Spread a death-shade round the s.h.i.+ps, Like a hurricane eclipse Of the sun.

Three hours the raging fire Did not slack; But the fourth, their signals drear Of distress and wreck appear, And the Dane a feeble cheer Sent us back.

The voice decayed; their shots Slowly boom.

They ceased-and all is wail, As they strike the shattered sail, Or in conflagration pale Light the gloom.

Oh, death-it was a sight Filled our eyes!

But we rescued many a crew From the waves of scarlet hue, Ere the cross of England flew O'er her prize.

Why ceased not here the strife, Oh, ye brave?

Why bleeds old England's band By the fire of Danish land, That smites the very hand Stretched to save?

But the Britons sent to warn Denmark's town: Proud foes, let vengeance sleep!

If another chain-shot sweep- All your navy in the deep Shall go down.

Then, peace instead of death Let us bring!

If you'll yield your conquered fleet, With the crews, at England's feet, And make submission meet To our King.

The Dane returned, a truce Glad to bring: He would yield his conquered fleet, With the crews, at England's feet, And make submission meet To our King.

Then death withdrew his pall From the day; And the sun looked smiling bright On a wide and woeful sight Where the fires of funeral light Died away.

Yet, all amidst her wrecks And her gore, Proud Denmark blest our chief That he gave her wounds relief, And the sounds of joy and grief Filled her sh.o.r.e.

All round, outlandish cries Loudly broke; But a n.o.bler note was rung When the British, old and young, To their bands of music sung "Hearts of Oak."

Cheer! cheer! from park and tower, London town!

When the King shall ride in state From St. James's royal gate, And to all his peers relate Our renown.

The bells shall ring! the day Shall not close, But a glaze of cities bright Shall illuminate the night, And the wine-cup s.h.i.+ne in light As it flows.

Yes-yet amid the joy And uproar, Let us think of them that sleep Full many a fathom deep All beside thy rocky steep, Elsinore!

Brave hearts, to Britain's weal Once so true!

Though death has quenched your flame, Yet immortal be your name!

For ye died the death of fame With Riou.

Soft sigh the winds of Heaven O'er your grave!

While the billow mournful rolls And the mermaid's song condoles, Singing-glory to the souls Of the brave.

IX

THE DEATH OF NELSON

O'er Nelson's tomb, with silent grief oppressed, Britannia mourns her hero now at rest; But those bright laurels will not fade with years, Whose leaves are watered by a nation's tears.

'Twas in Trafalgar's bay We saw the Frenchmen lay, Each heart was bounding then, We scorn'd the foreign yoke, For our s.h.i.+ps were British oak, And hearts of oak our men!

Our Nelson mark'd them on the wave, Three cheers our gallant seamen gave, Nor thought of home and beauty.

Along the line this signal ran, England expects that ev'ry man This day will do his duty.

And now the cannons roar Along th' affrighted sh.o.r.e, Our Nelson led the way, His s.h.i.+p the Victory nam'd!

Long be that Victory fam'd, For vict'ry crown'd the day!

But dearly was that conquest bought, Too well the gallant hero fought, For England, home, and beauty.

He cried as 'midst the fire he ran, "England shall find that ev'ry man, This day will do his duty!"

At last the fatal wound, Which spread dismay around, The hero's breast received; "Heaven fights upon our side!

The day's our own!" he cried; "Now long enough I've lived!

In honour's cause my life was pa.s.sed, In honour's cause I fall at last, For England, home, and beauty."

Thus ending life as he began, England confessed that every man That day had done his duty.