From ev'ry turret, ev'ry vanquish'd tower,
In heaps confused the broken fragments pour;
And, as they plunge toward the pebbly grave,
Like wizard wand, draw circles in the wave.
Meand'ring stream! thy liquid jaws extend,
Anoint with Lethe now thy fallen friend.
Again the heralds of the thunder fly,
In forky squadrons, from the trembling sky!
Again the thunder its harsh menace swells,
And light-wing'd echoes hail the humbled cells!
Weep, weep, ye clouds! with heav'n-bespangled tears;
And, ah! if pity rules your sacred spheres,
Invoke the thunder to withstay its rage,
Disarm its fury, and its wrath assuage.
But now, Aurora, from the Ocean's verge,
Trims her gray lamp, to light the mournful dirge.
She comes, to light the ruinated heap:
But lights, to wake the pensive soul to weep!
ON THE DEATH OF NELSON.
Swift through the land while Fame transported flies,
And shouts triumphant shake th' illumined skies;
Britannia, bending o'er her dauntless prows,
With laurels thickening round her blazon'd brows,
In joy dejected, sees her triumph cross'd,
Exults in Victory won, but mourns the Victor lost.
Immortal NELSON! still with fond amaze
Thy glorious deed each British eye surveys,
Beholds thee still, on conquer'd floods afar:
Fate's flaming shaft! the thunderbolt of war!
Hurl'd from thy hands, Britannia's vengeance roars,
And bloody billows stain the hostile shores:
Thy sacred ire Confed'rate Kingdoms braves,
And 'whelms their Navies in Sepulchral waves!
--Graced with each attribute which Heaven supplies
To Godlike Chiefs: humane, intrepid, wise:
His Nation's Bulwark, and all Nature's pride,
The Hero lived, and as he lived--he died:
Transcendant destiny! how bless'd the brave,
Whose fall his Country's tears attend, shower'd on his trophied grave!
THE BLUE-EYED MAID.
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