THE martial courage of a day is vain,
An empty noise of death the battle’s roar,
If vital hope be wanting to restore,
Or fortitude be wanting to sustain,
Armies or kingdoms. We have heard a strain
Of triumph, how the labouring Danube bore
A weight of hostile corses; drenched with gore
Were the wide fields, the hamlets heaped with slain.
Yet see (the mighty tumult overpast)
Austria a daughter of her Throne hath sold!
And her Tyrolean Champion we behold
Murdered, like one ashore by shipwreck cast,
Murdered without relief. Oh! blind as bold,
To think that such assurance can stand fast!
You May Also Like:
- The Morning Of The Day Appointed For A General Thanksgiving. January 18, 1816
- Composed After A Journey Across The Hambleton Hills, Yorkshire
- The White Doe Of Rylstone, Or, The Fate Of The Nortons – Dedication
- Tribute To The Memory Of The Same Dog
- To The Same (John Dyer)
- Sonnet: It is not to be thought of that the Flood
- Repentance
- Bothwell Castle
Leave a Reply