hat heroic soul, and left not his like among men.

Hear ye the heart of a nation
Groan, for her saviour is gone;
Gallant and true and tender,
Child and chieftain in one?
Such another day never
England will weep for again,
When the triumph darken'd the triumph,
And the hero of heroes was slain.

TORRES VEDRAS

1810

As who, while erst the Achaians wall'd the shore,
Stood Atlas-like before,
A granite face against the Trojan sea
Of foes who seethed and foam'd,
From that stern rock refused incessantly;

So He, in his colossal lines, astride
From sea to river-side,
Alhandra past Aruda to the Towers,
Our one true man of men
Frown'd back bold France and all the Imperial powers.

For when that Eagle, towering in his might
Beyond the bounds of Right,
O'ercanopied Europe with his rushing wings,
And all the world was prone
Before him as a God, a King of Kings;

When Freedom to one isle, her ancient shrine,
O'er the free favouring brine
Fled, as a girl by lustful war and shame
Discloister'd from her home,
Barefoot, with glowing eyes, and cheeks on flame,

And call'd aloud, and bade the realm awake
To arms for Freedom's sake:
--Yet,--for the land had rusted long in rest,
The nerves of war unstrung,
Faint thoughts or rash alternate in her breast,

While purblind party-strife with venomous spite
Made plausible wrong seem right,--
O then for that unselfish hero-chief
Tender and true, and lost
At Trafalgar,--or him, whose patriot grief

Died with the prayer for England, as he died,
In vain we might have cried!
But this one pillar rose, and bore the war
Upon himself alone;
Supreme o'er Fortune and her idle star.

For not by might but mind, by skill, not chance,
He headed stubborn France
From Tagus back by Douro to Garonne;
And on the last, worst, field,
The crown of all his hundred victories won,

World-calming Waterloo!--Then, laying by
War's fearful enginery,
In each state-tempest mann'd the wearying helm;
E'en through life's winter-years
Serving with all his strength the ungrateful realm.

O firm and foursquare mind! O solid will
Fix'd, inexpugnable
By crowns or censures! only bent to do
The day's work in the day;--
Fame with her idiot yelp might come, or go!

O breast that dared with Nature's patience wait
Till the slow wheels of Fate
Struck the consummate hour; in leash the while
Reining his eager bands,
The