« ՆախորդըՇարունակել »
For a much longer time; then, like an ass—
(Start not, kind reader, since great Homer thought This simile enough for Ajax, Juan Perhaps may find it better than a new one);—
Then, like an ass, he went upon his
way, And, what was stranger, never look'd behind; But seeing, flashing forward, like the day
Over the hills, a fire enough to blind
He stumbled on, to try if he could find
corps, the greater part of which were corses.
Perceiving then no more the commandant
Of his own corps, nor even the corps, which had Quite disappear’d—the gods know how! (I can't
Account for every thing which may look bad
It was not marvellous that a mere lad,
Perceiving nor commander nor commanded,
And left at large, like a young heir, to make His way to—where he knew not-single handed;
As travellers follow over bog and brake
An“ ignis fatuus ;” or as sailors stranded
Unto the nearest hut themselves betake; So Juan, following honour and his nose, Rush'd where the thickest fire announced most
He knew not where he was, nor greatly cared,
For he was dizzy, busy, and his veins
The hour, as is the case with lively brains ;
And the loud cannon peal'd his hoarsest strains, He rush’d, while earth and air were sadly shaken By thy humane discovery, Friar Bacon ! (9)
And as he rush'd along, it came to pass he
Fell in with what was late the second column, Under the orders of the General Lascy,
But now reduced, as is a bulky volume Into an elegant extract (much less massy)
Of heroism, and took his place with solemn Air ’midst the rest, who kept their valiant faces And levell'd weapons still against the glacis.
(1) [" N'appercevant plus le commandant du corps dont je faisais partie, et ignorant où je devais porter mes pas, je crus reconnoître le lieu où le rempart était situé; on y faisait un feu assez vif, que je jugeai étre celui du général-major de Lascy." —Hist. de la N. R. p. 210.]
(2) Gunpowder is said to have been discovered by this friar. [N. B. Though Friar Bacon seems to have discovered gunpowder, he had the humanity not to record his discovery in intelligible language. - E.]
Just at this crisis up came Johnson too,
Who had “ retreated," as the phrase is when Men run away much rather than go through
Destruction's jaws into the devil's den; But Johnson was a clever fellow, who
Knew when and how “ to cut and come again," And never ran away, except when running Was nothing but a valorous kind of cunning.
And so, when all his corps were dead or dying,
Except Don Juan, a mere novice, whose More virgin valour never dreamt of flying,
From ignorance of danger, which indues Its votaries, like innocence relying [thews,
On its own strength, with careless nerves and Johnson retired a little, just to rally Those who catch cold in “ shadows of Death's valley."
And there, a little shelter'd from the shot,
Which rain'd from bastion, battery, parapet, Rampart, wall, casement, house for there was not
In this extensive city, sore beset By Christian soldiery, a single spot
Which did not combat like the devil, as yet, He found a number of Chasseurs, all scatter'd By the resistance of the chase they batter'd.
And these he callid on; and, what's strange, they came
Unto his call, unlike “ the spirits from
Says Hotspur, long ere they will leave their Their reasons were uncertainty, or shame [home. (1)
At shrinking from a bullet or a bomb,
By Jove! he was a noble fellow, Johnson,
And though his name, than Ajax or Achilles, Sounds less harmonious, underneath the sun soon
We shall not see his likeness: he could kill his Man quite as quietly as blows the monsoon Her steady breath (which some months the same
still is): Seldom he varied feature, hue, or muscle, And could be very busy without bustle ;
And therefore, when he ran away, he did so
Upon reflection, knowing that behind
Of idle apprehensions, which like wind
Oft are soon closed, all heroes are not blind, But when they light upon immediate death, Retire a little, merely to take breath.
(1) [Glendower. “ I can call spirits from the vasty deep.
But Johnson only ran off, to return
With many other warriors, as we said, Unto that rather somewhat misty bourn,
Which Hamlet tells us is a pass of dread. (1)
His soul (like galvanism upon the dead)
Egad! they found the second time what they
The first time thought quite terrible enough To fly from, malgré all which people say
Of glory, and all that immortal stuff Which fills a regiment (besides their pay,
That daily shilling which makes warriors tough) They found on their return the self-same welcome, Which made some think, and others know, a hell come.
They fell as thick as harvests beneath hail,
Grass before scythes, or corn below the sickle, Proving that trite old truth, that life's as frail
As any other boon for which men stickle.
Or a good boxer, into a sad pickle
["the dread of something after death, -