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Last noon beheld them full of lusty life,
Last eve in Beauty's circle proudly gay,
The midnight brought the signal-sound of strife,
The morn the marshalling in arms,—the day
Battle's magnificently stern array !
The thunder-clouds close o'er it, which when

The earth is cover'd thick with other clay,
Which her own clay shall cover, leap'd and

pent, Rider and horse,-friend, foe,-in one red burial


They mourn, but smile at length; and, smiling,

mourn :
The tree will wither long before it fall;
The hull drives on, though mast and sail be torn;
The roof-tree sinks, but moulders on the hall
In massy hoariness; the ruin'd wall
Stards when its wind-worn battlements are

The bars survive the captive they enthral;

The day drags through though storms keep out
And thus the heart will break, yet brokenly live on:

the sun;




Their praise is hymn'd by loftier harps than Even as a broken mirror, which the glass mine;

In every fragment multiplies; and makes Yet one I would select from that proud throng, A thousand images of one that was, Partly because they blend me with his line, The same, and still the more, the more it breaks; And partly that I did his sire some wrong, And thus the heart will do which not forsakes, And partly that bright names will hallow song Living in slatter'd guise, and still, and cold, And his was of the bravest, and when shower' And bloodless, with its sleepless sorrow aches, The death-bolts deadliest the thinn'd files along, Yet withers on till all without is old,

Even where the thickest of war's tempest lower'd, Showing no visible sign, for such things are untold. They reach'd no nobler breast than thine, young, gallant Howard!

There is a very life in our despair,
Vitality of poison, a quick root

Which feeds these deadly branches ; for it were There have been tears and breaking hearts for thee,

As nothing did we die; but life will suit

Itself to Sorrow's most detested fruit,
And mine were nothing, had I such to give;
But when I stood beneath the fresh green

Like to the apples on the Dead Sea's shore, 2

All ashes to the taste : Did man compute tree, Which living waves where thou didst cease to

Existence by enjoyment, and count o'er live,

Such hours 'gainst years of life,-say, would he And saw around me the wide field revive

name threescore ! With fruits and fertile promise, and the Spring Come forth her work of gladness to contrive,

XXXV. With all her reckless birds upon the wing, The Psalmist number'd out the years of man: I turn'd from all she brought to those she could

They are enough: and if thy tale be true, not bring.1

Thou, who didst grudge him even that fleeting


More than enough, thou fatal Waterloo ! I turn’d to thee, to thousands, of whom each

Millions of tongues record thee, and anew

Their children's lips shall echo them, and say, And one as all a ghastly gap did make In his own kind and kindred, whom to teach

“Here, where the sword united nations drew, Forgetfulness were mercy for their sake;

Our countrymen were warring on that day!” The Archangel's trump, not glory's, must awake

And this is much, and all which will not pass Those whom they thirst for ; though the sound

away. of Fame May for a moment soothe, it cannot slake

There sunk the greatest, nor the worst of men, The fever of vain longing, and the name

Whose spirit, antithetically mixt, So honour'd, but assumes

a stronger, bitterer One moment of the mightiest, and again claim.

On little objects with like firmness fixt;



(1) My guide from Mont St. Jean over the field seemed in the field, from the peculiarity of the two trees above intelligent and accurate. The place where Major Howard mentioned. I went on horseback twice over the field, comfell was not far from two tall and solitary trees (there was a paring it with my recollection of similar scenes. As a plain, third, cut down, or shivered, in the batile), which stand a Waterloo seems marked out for the scene of some great few yards from each other at a pathway's side. Beneath action, though this may be mere

imagination. I have

viewed these he died and was buried. The body has since been with attention those of Platea, Troy, Mantines, Leuctra, removed to England. A small hollow for the present marks Chæronea, and Marathon,

and the field around Mont St. Jean where it lay, but will probably soon be effaced; the plough and Hougoumont appears to want little but a better cause, has been upon it, and the grain is. After pointing out the and that undefinable but impressive halo which the lapse of different spots where Picton and other gallant men had ages throws around a celebrated spot, to vie in interest with perished, the guide said, 'Here Major Howard lay: I was any or all of these, except perhaps the last mentioned. near him when wounded. I told him my relationship, and (2) The (fabled) apples on the brink of the lake Asphaltes he seemed then still more anxious to point out the particular were said to be fair without, and within ashes. Vide TACITUS, spot and circumstances. The place is one of the most marked Histor. lib. v. 7.

Extreme in all things ! badst thou been betwixt, Such scorn of man had help'd to brave the shock; Thy throne had still been thine, or never been; But men's thoughts were the steps which paved For daring made thy rise as fall: thou seek'st

thy throne, Even now to reassume the imperial mien,

Their admiration thy best weapon shone ; And shake again the world, the Thunderer of the The part of Philip's son was thine, not then scene!

(Unless aside thy purple had been thrown)

Like stern Diogenes to mock at men;

For sceptred cynics earth were far too wide a den.! Conqueror and captive of the earth art thou !

XLJI. She irembles at thee still, and thy wild name Was ne'er more bruited in men's "minds than now But quiet to quick bosoms is a hell, That thou art nothing, save the jest of Fame, And there hath been thy bane; there is a fire Who woo'd thee once, thy vassal, and became And motion of the soul, which will not dwell The flatterer of thy fierceness, till thou wert In its own narrow being, but aspire A god unto thyself; nor less the same

Beyond the fitting medium of desire ; To the astounded kingdoms all inert,

And, but once kindled, quenchless evermore, Who deem'd thee for a time whate'er thou didst Preys upon high adventure, nor can tire assert.

Of aught but rest; a fever at the core,

Fatal to him who bears, to all who ever bore.
Oh, more or less than man—in high or low,

Battling with nations, flying from the field; This makes the madmen who have made men
Now making monarchs' necks thy footstool, now

mad More than thy meanest soldier taught to yield : By their contagion! Conquerors and Kings, An empire thou couldst crush, command, re- Founders of sects and systems, to whom add build,

Sophists, Bards, Statesmen, all unquiet things But govern not thy pettiest passion, nor,

Which stir too strongly the soul's secret springs, However deeply in men's spirits skill'd,

And are themselves the fools to those they fool; Look through thine own, nor curb the lust of Envied, yet how unenviable! what stings war,

Are theirs ! One breast laid open were a school Nor learn that tempted Fate will leave the loftiest Which would unteach mankind the lust to shine or star.

rule :

XLIV. Yet well thy soul hath brook'd the turning tide

Their breath is agitation, and their life With that untaught innate philosophy,

A storm whereon they ride, to sink at last, Which, be it wisdom, coldness, or deep pride,

And yet so nursed and bigoted to strife,

That should their days, surviving perils past, Is gall and wormwood to an enemy. When the whole host of hatred stood hard by,

Melt to calm twilight, they feel overcast To watch and mock thee shrinking, thou bast

With sorrow and supineness, and so die ;

Even as a flame unfed, which runs to waste siniled With a sedate and all-enduring eye ;

With its own flickering, or a sword laid by,

Which eats into itself, and rusts ingloriously. When Fortune fled her spoild and favourite child,

XLV. He stood unbor'd beneath the ills upon him piled.

He who ascends to mountain-tops, shall find XL.

The loftiest peaks most wrapt in clouds and

snow; Sager than in the fortunes; for in them

He who surpasses or subdues mankind, Ambition steeld thee on too far to show

Must look down on the hate of those below. That just habitual scorn, which could contemn

Though high above the sun of glory glow, Men and their thoughts ; 'twas wise to feel, not so And far beneath the earth and ocean spread, To wear it ever on thy lip and brow,

Round him are icy rocks, and loudly blow
And spurn the instruments thon wert to use
Till they were turn'd unto thine overthrow :

Contending tempests on his naked head,

And thus reward the toils which to those summits 'Tis but a worthless world to win or lose ;

led. So bath it proved to thee, and all such lot who choose.


Away with these ! true Wisdom's world will be XLI.

Within its own creation, or in thine, If, like a tower upon a headland rock,

Maternal Nature ! for who teems like thee, Thou hadst been made to stand or fall alone, Thus on the banks of thy majestic Rhine ?


(1) The great error of Napoleon, " if we have writ our single expression which he is said to have used on returning Annals true," was a continued obtrusion on mankind of his to Paris after the Russian winter had destroyed his army, want of all community of feeling for

or with them; perhaps rubbing his hands over a fire, “This is pleasanter than Mosmore offensive to human vanity than the active cruelty of cow," would probably alienate more favour from his cause more trembling and suspicious tyranny. Such were his than the destruction and reverses which led to the remark. speeches to public assemblies as well as individuals; and the




There IIarold gazes on a work divine,

Thy tide wash'd down the blood of yesterday, A blending of all beauties; streams and dells, And all was stainless, and on thy clear stream Fruit, foliage, crag, wood, corn-field, mountain, Glass'd with its dancing light the sunny ray; vine,

But o'er the blacken'd memory's blighting dream And chiefless castles breathing stern farewells Thy waves would vainly roll, all sweeping as they From grey but leafy walls, where Ruin greenly dwells. XLVII.

Thus Harold inly said, and pass' along, And there they stand, as stands a lofty mind,

Yet not insensible to all which here Worn, but unstooping to the baser crowd,

Awoke the jocund birds to early song All tenantless, save to the crannying wind,

In glens which might have made even exile dear : Or holding dark communion witli the cloud.

Though on his brow were graven lines austere, There was a day when they were young and proud,

And tranquil sternness which had ta'en the place Banners on high, and battles pass'd below;

Of feelings fierier far but less severe, But they who fought are in a bloody shroud,

Joy was not always absent from his face, And those which waved are shredless dust ere now, And the bleak battlements shall bear no future blow. But o’er it in such scenes would steal with transient

trace. XLVIII.

LIII. Beneath these battlements, within those walls, Nor was all love shut from him, though his days Power dwelt amidst her passions ; in proud state Of passion had consuined themselves to dust. Each robber chief upheld his armed halls,

It is in vain that we would coldly gaze Doing his evil will , nor less elate

On such as smile upon us; the heart must Than mightier heroes of a longer date.

Leap kindly back to kindness, though disgust What want these outlaws conquerors should Hath wean'd it from all worldlings: thus he felt, havel

For there was soft remembrance, and sweet trust But History's purchased page to call them great ? In one fond breast, to which his own would melt, A wider space, an ornamented grave ?

And in its tenderer hour on that his bosom dwelt. Their liopes were not less warm, their souls were full as brave.


And he had learu'd to love,-I know not why, In their baronial feuds and single fields,

For this in such as him seems strange of mood,What deeds of prowess unrecorded died !

The helpless looks of blooming infancy, And Love, which lent a blazon to their shields,

Even in its earliest nurture ; what subdued, With emblems well devised by amorous pride,

To change like this, a mind so far imbued Through all the mail of iron hearts would glide ;

With scorn of man, it little boots to know; But still their flame was fierceness, and drew ou

But thus it was ; and though in solitude Keen contest and destruction near allied,

Small power the nipp'd affections have to grow, And many a tower for some fair mischief won,

In him this glow'd when all beside had ceased to Saw the discolour'd Rhine beneath its ruin run.



And there was one soft breast, as bath been said, But Thou, exulting and abounding river!

Which unto his was bound by stronger ties Making thy waves a blessing as they flow

Than the church links withal; and, though unwed, Through banks whose beauty would endure for That love was pure, and, far above disguise ever,

Had stood the test of mortal enmities Could man but leave thy bright creation so,

Still undivided, and cernented more Nor its fair promise from the surface mow

By peril, dreaded most in female eyes; With the sharp scythe of conflict,—then to see But this was firm, and from a foreign shore Thy valley of sweet waters, were to know Well to that heart might his these absent greetings

Earth paved like Heaven ; and to seem such to
Even now what wants thy stream ?-that it should

The castled crag of Drachenfels?
Lethe be.

Frowns o'er the wide and winding Rhine,

Whose breast of waters broadly swells

Between the banks which bear the vine,
A thousand battles have assail'd thy banks,

And hills all rich with blossom'd trees, But these and half their farne have pass'd away, And fields which promise corn and wine, And Slaughter heap'd on high his weltering ranks : And scatter'd cities crowning these, Their very graves are gone, and what are they? Whose far white walls along them shine, (1) “What wants that knave that a king should have ?" of the river. On this bank, nearly facing it, are the remains was King James's question on meeting Johnny Armstrong of another, called the Jew's Castle, and a large cross comand his followers in tull accoutrements. - See the Ballad. memorative of the murder of a chief

by his brother. The (2) The castle of Drachenfels stands on the highest summit of The Seven Mountains," over the Rhine banks; it is in

number of castles and cities along the course of the Rhine ruins, and connected with some singular traditions. It is the

on both sides is very great, and their situations remarkably

beautiful. first in view on the road from Bonn, but on the opposite side

pour !


For lie was Freedom's champion, one of those,
The few in number, who had not o'erstept
The charter to chastise which she bestows

On such as wield her weapons ; he had kept
The whiteness of his soul, and thus men o'er him



Have strew'd a scene, which I should see
With double joy wert thou with me!
And peasant girls, with deep-blue eyes,
And hands which offer early flowers,
Walk smiling o'er this paradise ;
Above, the frequent feudal towers
Through green leaves lift their walls of grey,
And many a rock which steeply lours,
And noble arch in proud decay,
Look o'er this vale of vintage bowers ;
But one thing want these banks of Rhine,
Thy gentle hand to clasp in mine!
I send the lilies given to me;
Though long before thy hand they touch,
I know that they must wither'd be,
But yet reject them not as such ;
For I have cherislı'd them as dear,
Because they yet may meet thine eye,
And guide thy soul to mine even liere,
When thou behold'st them drooping nigh,
And know'st them gather'd by the Rhine,
And offer'd from my heart to thine !
The river nobly foams and flows,
The charm of this enchanted ground,
And all its thousand turns disclose
Some fresher beauty varying round;
The haughtiest breast its wish might bound
Through life to dwell delighted here;
Nor could on earth a spot be found
To nature and to me so dear,
Could thy dear eyes in following mine
Still sweeten more these bauks of Rhine!

Here Ehrenbreitstein,? with her shatter'd wall
Black with the miner's blast, upon her height
Yet shows of what she was, when shell and ball
Rebounding idly on her strength did light;
A tower of victory! from whence the Aiglit
Of baffled foes was watch'd along the plain :
But Peace destroy'd what War could never blight,
And laid those proud roofs bare to Summer's

On which the iron shower for years had pour'd in



Adieu to thee, fair Rhine! How long, delighted,
The stranger fain would linger on his way!
Thine is a scene alike where souls united
Or lonely Contemplation thus might stray;
And could the ceaseless vultures cease to prey
On self-condemning bosoms, it were here,
Where Nature, nor too sombre nor too gay,

Wild but not rude, awful yet not austere,
Is to the mellow Earth as Autumn to the year.


Adieu to thee again! a vain adieu !
There can be no farewell to scene like thine ;
The mind is colour'd by thy every hue ;
And if reluctantly the eyes resign
Their cherish'd gaze upon thee, lovely Rhine !
'Tis with the thankful glance of parting praise:
More mighty spots may rise-more glaring shine,

But none unite in one attaching maze
The brilliant, fair, and soft ;-the glories of old days.

By Coblentz, on a rise of gentle ground,
There is a small and simple pyramid,
Crowning the summit of the verdant mound;
Beneath its base are heroes' ashes hid,
Our enemy's,—but let not that forbid
Honour to Marceau! o'er whose early tomb
Tears, big tears, gusl’d from the rouglı soldier's

Lamenting and yet envying such a doom,
Falling for France, whose "rights he battled to



Brief, brave, and glorious was his young career, -
His mourners were two hosts, bis friends and foes ;
And fitly may the stranger lingering here
Pray for his gallant spirit's bright repose ;

The negligently grand, the fruitful bloom
Of coming ripeness, the white city's sheen,
The rolling stream, the precipice's gloom,
The forest's growth, and Gothic walls between,
The wild rocks shaped as they had turrets been
In mockery of man's art; and these withal
A race of faces happy as the scene,

Whose fertile bounties here extend to all,
Still springing o'er tby banks, though Empires near

them fall.

(1) The monument of the young and lamented General Sambre and Mense to its Commander-in-Chief, Hoche." Marceau (killed by a rifle-ball at Alterkirchen on the last day This is all, and as it should be. Hoche was esteemed

among of the fourth year of the French Republic) still remains as the first of France's earlier generals, before Bonaparte described. The inscriptions on his monument are rather too monopolised her triumphs. He was the destined commander long, and not required-his name was enough; France adored, of the invading army of Ireland. and her enemies admired; both wept over him. His funeral (2) Ehrenbreitstein, i. e. " the broad stone of honour,” one was attended by the generals and detachments from both of the strongest fortresses in Europe, was dismantled and armies. In the same grave General Hoche is interred, a blown up by the French at the truce of Leoben. It had gallant man also in every sense of the word; but though he been, and could only be, reduced by famine or treachery. It distinguished himself greatly in battle, he had not the good yielded to the former, aided by surprise. After having seen fortune to die there : his death

was attended

by suspicions of the fortifications of Gibraltar and Malta, it did not much poison. A separate monument (not over his body, which is strike by comparison; but the situation is commanding, buried by Marceau's) is raised for him near Andernach, General Marceau besieged it in vain for some time; and I opposite to which one of his most memorable exploits was slept in a room where I was shown a window at which he performed, in throwing a bridge to an island on the Rhine. is said to have been standing, observing the progress of The shape and style are different from that of Marceau's, and the siege by moonlight, when a ball struck immedintely the inscription more simple and pleasing : "The Army of the below it.



Her youth to Heaven; her heart, beneath a But these recede. Above me are the Alps,

claim The palaces of Nature, whose vast walls

Nearest to Heaven's, broke o'er a father's grave. Have pinnacled in clouds their snowy scalps,

Justice is sworn 'gainst tears, and hers would

crave And throned Eternity in icy halls Of cold sublimity, where forms and falls

The life she lived in; but the judge was just, The avalanche-the thunderbolt of snow!

And then she died on him she could not save. All that expands the spirit, yet appals,

Their tomb was simple, and without a bust, Gather around these summits, as to show

And held within their urn one mind, one heart, one

How Earth may pierce to Heaven, yet leave vain
man below.

But these are deeds which should not

pass away,

And names that must not wither, though the But ere these matchless heights I dare to scan,

There is a spot should not be pass'd in vain,– Forgets her empires with a just decay,
Morat ! the proud, the patriot field! where man The enslavers and the enslaved, their death and
May gaze on ghastly trophies of the slain,

Nor blush for those who conquered on that plain ; The high, the mountain-majesty of worth,
Here Burgundy bequeath'd his tombless host, Should be, and shall, survivor of its woe,
A bony heap, through ages to remain,

And from its immortality look forth Themselves their monument ;-the Stygian coast In the sun's face, like yonder Alpine snow,4 Uusepulchred they roam'd, and shriek’d each wan- Imperishably pure beyond all things below. dering ghost.

LXVIII. While Waterloo with Cannæ's carnage vies,

Lake Leman woos me with its crystal face, Morat and Marathon twin naines shall stand ;

The mirror where the stars and mountains view They were true Glory's stainless victories,

The stillness of their aspect in each trace Won by the unambitious heart and hand

Its clear depth yields of their far height and hue: Of a proud, brotherly, and civic band,

There is too much of man here, to look through All unbought champions in no princely cause

With a fit mind the might which I behold; Of vicc-entaild Corruption ; they no land

But soon in me shall Loneliness renew Doon'd to bewail the blasphemy of laws

Thoughts bid, but not less cherish'd than of old. Making king's rights divine, by some Draconic Ere mingling with the herd had penn'd me in their clause.



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(1) The chapel is destroyed, and the pyramid of bones di- as a traitor by Aulus Cæcina. Her epitaph was discovered minished to a small number by the Burgundian legion in the many years ago. It is thus : “Julia Alpinula : Hic jaceo. service of France, who anxiously effaced this record of their Infeíicis patris infelix proles. Deæ Aventiæ Sacerdos. ancestors' less successful invasions. A few still remain, not- Exorare patris

necem non potui : Male mori in fntis ille crnt. withstanding the pains taken by the Burgundians for ages Vixi annos XXIII." I know of no human composition so (all who passed that way removing a bone to their own affecting as this, nor a history of deeper interest. These are country), and the less justifiable larcenies of the Swiss pos- the names and actions which ought not to perish, and to tilions, who carried them off to sell for knife-handles,-a pur- which we turn with a true and healthy tenderness, from the pose for which the whiteness imbibed by the bleaching of wretched and glittering detail of a confused mass of conyears had rendered them in great request.

quests and battles, with which the mind is roused for a time Of these relics I ventured to bring away as much as may to a false and feverish sympathy, from whence it recurs at have made a quarter of a hero, for which the sole excuse is, length with all the nausea consequent on such intoxication. that if I had not, the next passer-by might have perverted (4) This is written in the eye of Mont Blanc (June 3d, them to worse uses than the careful preservation which intend for them.

1816), which even at this distance dazzles mine. (Jnly soth. (2) Aventicum, nenr Morat, was the Roman capital of

-I this day observed for some time the distinct reflection of Helvetia, where Avenches now stands.

Mont Blanc and Mont Argentière in the calm of the lake, (3) Julia Alpinula, a young Aventian priestess, died soon

which I was crossing in my boat. The distance of these After a vain endeavour to save her father, condemned to douth

mountains from their mirror is sixty miles.

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