And furious every charger neighed,
To join the dreadful revelry.

Then shook the hills with thunder riven,
Then rushed the steed to battle driven,
And louder than the bolts of heaven,
Far flashed the red artillery.

But redder yet that light shall glow,
On Linden's hills of stainèd snow;
And bloodier yet the torrent flow
Of Iser, rolling rapidly.

'Tis morn, but scarce yon level sun
Can pierce the wet clouds, rolling dun,
Where furious Frank,2 and fiery Hun3
Shout in their sulphurous canopy.*

The combat deepens. On ye brave,
Who rush to glory, or the grave!
Wave, Munich,5 all thy banners wave!
And charge with all thy chivalry!

Few, few shall part where many meet!
The snow shall be their winding sheet,
And every turf beneath their feet,
Shall be a soldier's sepulchre.

2 Frenchman.

Hungarian, or, here, Austrian,

The sulphurous smoke of the artillery, &c.

Munich, the capital of Bavaris.

24

BATTLE OF THE BALTIC.1

OF Nelson2 and the North
Sing the glorious day's renown,

When to battle fierce came forth

All the might of Denmark's crown,

And her arms along the deep proudly shone;

By each gun the lighted brand

In a bold determined hand,

And the Prince of all the land5

Led them on.

Like leviathans" afloat

Lay their bulwarks' on the brine,

While the sign of battle flew

On the lofty British line:

It was ten of April morn by the chime:
As they drifted on their path

There was silence deep as death;

And the boldest held his breath
For a time.

But the might of England flush'd
To anticipate the scene;"

And her van the fleeter rush'd

O'er the deadly space between.

"Hearts of oak!" our captains cried, when each

gun

From its adamantine10 lips

Spread a death-shade round the ships,

Like the hurricane eclipse11

Of the sun.

Again! again! again!

And the havoc did not slack,

Till a feeble cheer the Dane

To our cheering sent us back ;

Their shots along the deep slowly boom :

Then ceased-and all is wail,

As they strike the shattered sail;12

Or in conflagration pale

Light the gloom.

Out spoke the victor then

As he hail'd them o'er the wave,
Ye are brothers! ye are men!

8 might of England, the power
of England, as represented by her
fleet.

9 glowed with ardour to hasten on the battle.

10 stony, hard as diamond.

11 eclipse. A hurricane causes dark ness for the time.

12 shattered sail. The Danish fleet was either sunk or taken.

And we conquer but to save :—

So peace instead of death let us bring:
But yield, proud foe, thy fleet

With the crews, at England's feet,
And make submission meet
To our King."

Then Denmark blest our chief
That he gave her wounds repose;
And the sounds of joy and grief
From her people wildly rose,

As death withdrew his shades from the day:

While the sun look'd smiling bright

O'er a wide and woeful sight,

Where the fires of funeral light

Died away.

Now joy, old England, raise!
For the tidings of thy might,
By the festal cities' blaze,

Whilst the wine-cup shines in light;
And yet amidst that joy and uproar,
Let us think of them that sleep
Full many a fathom deep

By thy wild and stormy steep,
Elsinore !12

Brave hearts! to Britain's pride
Once so faithful and so true,

On the deck of fame that died

12 Elsinore, a sea-port of Denmark, 24 miles from Copenhagen.

It is at the narrowest part of the
Sound.

With the gallant good Riou:1"

Soft sigh the winds of heaven o'er their grave!
While the billow mournful rolls,
And the mermaid's song condoles,
Singing, Glory to the souls
Of the brave!

Thomas Moore was the son of a small tradesman in Dublin. He was educated at the University in that city, but spent most of his time in London. His longer poems are brilliant but artificial-his shorter ones light, airy, melodious, and elegant. The following extract is from his poem of" Lalla Rookh."

PARADISE AND THE PERI.

ONE morn a Peri1 at the gate
Of Eden stood, disconsolate;

And as she listen'd to the springs
Of life within, like music flowing,
And caught the light upon her wings
Through the half-open portal glowing,
She wept to think her recreant2 race
Should e'er have lost that glorious place!

"How happy," exclaim'd this child of air,
"Are the holy spirits who wander there,
'Mid flowers that never shall fade or fall.

13 Riou, Captain of the Fleet, killed

at the battle of the Baltic. He was called by Lord Nelson "the gallant and good."

1 Peri, one of a spiritual race of Eastern Fable, which lived on the odours of flowers, but had sinned itself out of Paradise.

2 recreant, fallen, sinful.