III. History can only take things in the gross; War's merit it by no means might enhance, As hath been done, mere conquest to advance. The drying up a single tear has more Of honest fame, than shedding seas of gore. IV. And why?-because it brings self-approbation; Though they may make Corruption gape or stare, V. And such they are— and such they will be found: Which breathes of nations saved, not worlds undone. VI. The night was dark, and the thick mist allow'd Long booming of each peal on peal, o'ercame The ear far more than thunder; for Heaven's flashes Spare, or smite rarely-man's make millions ashes! VII. The column order'd on the assault scarce pass'd Answering the Christian thunders with like voices: Then one vast fire, air, earth, and stream embraced, Which rock'd as 't were beneath the mighty noises; While the whole rampart blazed like Etna, when The restless Titan hiccups in his den. (2) (1) ["La nuit était obscure; un brouillard épais ne nous permettait de distinguer autre chose que le feu de notre artillerie, dont l'horizon était embrasé de tous côtés: ce feu, partant du milieu du Danube, se réfiléchissait sur les eaux, et offrait un coup d'œil très-singulier."— Hist. de la Nouvelle Russie, tom. iii. p. 209.] (2) ["`A peine eut-on parcouru l'espace de quelques toises au-delà des batteries, que les Turcs, qui n'avaient point tiré pendant toute la nuit, s'apperçevant de nos mouvemens, commencèrent de leur côté un feu très-vif, qui embrasa le reste de l'horizon: mais ce fut bien autre chose lorsque, avancés davantage, le feu de la mousqueterie commença dans toute l'étendue du rempart que nous appercevions. Ce fut alors que la place parut à nos yeux comme un volcan dont le feu sortait de toutes parties."- Ibid. p. 209.] VIII. And one enormous shout of " Allah!”(1) rose Hurling defiance: city, stream, and shore Resounded" Allah!" and the clouds which close With thick'ning canopy the conflict o'er, Vibrate to the Eternal name. Hark! through All sounds it pierceth" Allah! Allah! Hu!" (2) IX. The columns were in movement one and all, 66 Carnage" (so Wordsworth tells you)" is God's If he speak truth, she is Christ's sister, and (1) ["Un cri universel d'Allah! qui se répétait tout autour de la ville, vint encore rendre plus extraordinaire cet instant, dont il est impossible de se faire une idée."— Hist. de la N. R. p. 209.] (2) Allah Hu! is properly the war cry of the Mussulmans, and they dwell on the last syllable, which gives it a wild and peculiar effect. (3) [" Toutes les colonnes étaient en mouvement; celles qui attaquaient par eau commandées par le général Arseniew, essuyèrent un feu épouvantable, et perdirent avant le jour un tiers de leurs officiers."— Ibid.]: (4) "But Thy* most dreaded instrument In working out a pure intent, Is man array'd for mutual slaughter; WORDSWORTH'S Thanksgiving Ode. To wit, the Deity's: this is perhaps as pretty a pedigree for murder as ever was found out by Garter King at Arms. - What would have been said, had any free-spoken people discovered such a lineage? X. The Prince de Ligne was wounded in the knee; His cap and head, (1) which proves the head to be Aristocratic as was ever seen, Because it then received no injury More than the cap; in fact, the ball could mean No harm unto a right legitimate head: "Ashes to ashes"-why not lead to lead? XI. Also the General Markow, Brigadier, Insisting on removal of the prince Amidst some groaning thousands dying near,— The General Markow, who could thus evince XII. Three hundred cannon threw up their emetic, Mortality! thou hast thy monthly bills; (1) [" Le Prince de Ligne fut blessé au genou; le Duc de Richelieu eut une balle entre le fond de son bonnet et sa téte."- Hist. de la Nouvelle Russie, t. iii. p. 210.] (2) ["Le brigadier Markow, insistant pour qu'on emportât le prince blessé, reçut un coup de fusil qui lui fracassa le pied."- Ibid. p. 210.] (3) ["Trois cents bouches à feu vomissaient sans interruption, et trente mille fusils alimentaient sans relâche une grêle de balles."— Ibid. p. 210.] Thy plagues, thy famines, thy physicians, yet tick, Like the death-watch, within our ears the ills Past, present, and to come ;-but all may yield To the true portrait of one battle-field. XIII. There the still varying pangs, which multiply Which meet the gaze, whate'er it may regard – The groan, the roll in dust, the all-white eye Turn'd back within its socket, these reward Your rank and file by thousands, while the rest May win perhaps a riband at the breast! XIV. Yet I love glory;-glory's a great thing:- Which is still better; thus in verse to wage Half-pay for life, make mankind worth destroying. XV. The troops, already disembark'd, push'd on |