WATERLOO.
75
The long dark billows; swelling till they curl;
Then full against the rocks their fury hurl,
And spring aloft in clouds. Dost see that wave
Leap at the cliffs, and into yonder cave
Ride, swift and high? From the rude sides recoiling,
It flies in showers of spray; then, fiercely boiling,
Rallies, and drives its might amongst the crags,
Wheeling in eddies—vain! its fury flags;
Tost from their points, it yields; and to the deep,
Baffled, and broken, as its currents sweep,
Leaves to its conqu'rors, on the cavern floor,
The wreaths of foam; the crest it proudly wore.
Firm as the rocks that strew that sea-beat coast,
In clust'ring masses stood the British host.
Fierce as those waves, the warrior horse of Gaul
Streamed, blindly rushing to as sure a fall.
Ever, as near to each dark square they drew,
In act to plunge, and crush th' unshrinking few,
Burst, as from Death's own jaws, a fiery shower,
Whose 'whelming blast, whose paralysing power,
Nought earthly might withstand. To rise no more,
Whole ranks are down. The treach'rous cuirass tore
The breast beneath; in splinters flew the lance.
Yet nobly true to Glory and to France,
Yet, 'mid the ruin, many a steadfast heart,
E'en to the last, played well a chieftain's part.
They lived to see their efforts fail to cheer
Those veterans, pale with all unwonted fear.
In vain devotion, in despairing pride,
They rushed upon the bristling steel and died.
What tho' the remnant fled? Fresh myriads rear
The forked banner, couch the threatening spear;
Drive, and are driven, to that fatal goal;
Countless, as clouds before the gale that roll;
Fast, as the troubled world of waters pours
Wave upon wave, from undiminished stores.
Then full against the rocks their fury hurl,
And spring aloft in clouds. Dost see that wave
Leap at the cliffs, and into yonder cave
Ride, swift and high? From the rude sides recoiling,
It flies in showers of spray; then, fiercely boiling,
Rallies, and drives its might amongst the crags,
Wheeling in eddies—vain! its fury flags;
Tost from their points, it yields; and to the deep,
Baffled, and broken, as its currents sweep,
Leaves to its conqu'rors, on the cavern floor,
The wreaths of foam; the crest it proudly wore.
Firm as the rocks that strew that sea-beat coast,
In clust'ring masses stood the British host.
Fierce as those waves, the warrior horse of Gaul
Streamed, blindly rushing to as sure a fall.
Ever, as near to each dark square they drew,
In act to plunge, and crush th' unshrinking few,
Burst, as from Death's own jaws, a fiery shower,
Whose 'whelming blast, whose paralysing power,
Nought earthly might withstand. To rise no more,
Whole ranks are down. The treach'rous cuirass tore
The breast beneath; in splinters flew the lance.
Yet nobly true to Glory and to France,
Yet, 'mid the ruin, many a steadfast heart,
E'en to the last, played well a chieftain's part.
They lived to see their efforts fail to cheer
Those veterans, pale with all unwonted fear.
In vain devotion, in despairing pride,
They rushed upon the bristling steel and died.
What tho' the remnant fled? Fresh myriads rear
The forked banner, couch the threatening spear;
Drive, and are driven, to that fatal goal;
Countless, as clouds before the gale that roll;
Fast, as the troubled world of waters pours
Wave upon wave, from undiminished stores.
