| Of Nelson and the North |
| Sing the glorious day’s renown, |
| When to battle fierce came forth |
| All the might of Denmark’s crown, |
| And her arms along the deep proudly shone; |
| By each gun the lighted brand |
| In a bold determined hand, |
| And the Prince of all the land |
Led them on.
|
| Like leviathans afloat |
| Lay their bulwarks on the brine; |
| While the sign of battle flew |
| On the lofty British line: |
| It was ten of April morn by the chime: |
| As they drifted on their path |
| There was silence deep as death; |
| And the boldest held his breath |
For a time.
|
| But the might of England flush’d |
| To anticipate the scene; |
| And her van the fleeter rush’d |
| O’er the deadly space between. |
| ‘Hearts of oak!’ our captains cried, when each
gun |
| From its adamantine lips |
| Spread a death-shade round the ships, |
| Like the hurricane eclipse |
Of the sun.
|
| Again! again! again! |
| And the havoc did not slack, |
| Till a feeble cheer the Dane |
| To our cheering sent us back;— |
| Their shots along the deep slowly boom:— |
| Then ceased—and all is wail, |
| As their strike the shatter’d sail; |
| Or in conflagration pale |
Light the gloom.
|
| Out spoke the victor then |
| As he hail’d them o’er the wave, |
| ‘Ye are brothers! ye are men! |
| And we conquer but to save:— |
| So peace instead of death let us bring: |
| But yield, proud foe, thy fleet |
| With the crews, at England’s feet, |
| And make submission meet |
To our King.’
|
| Then Denmark blest our chief |
| That he gave her wounds repose; |
| And the sounds of joy and grief |
| From her people wildly rose, |
| As death withdrew his shades from the day: |
| While the sun look’d smiling bright |
| O’er a wide and woful sight, |
| Where the fires of funeral light |
Died away.
|
| Now joy, old England, raise! |
| For the tidings of thy might, |
| By the festal cities’ blaze, |
| Whilst the wine-cup shines in light; |
| And yet amidst that joy and uproar, |
| Let us think of them that sleep |
| Full many a fathom deep |
| By thy wild and stormy steep, |
Elsinore!
|
| Brave hearts! to Britain’s pride |
| Once so faithful and so true, |
| On the deck of fame they died |
| With the gallant good Riou: |
| Soft sigh the winds of Heaven o’er their grave! |
| While the billow mournful rolls |
| And the mermaid’s song condoles |
| Singing glory to the souls |
Of the brave!
|
| Thomas Campbell
|
Classic Poems |
| |
|
[ Hohenlinden ] [ Freedom and Love ] [ Battle of the Baltic ] [ Lord Ullin's Daughter ] [ Ye Mariners of England ] [ To the Evening Star ] [ The River of Life ] |
