OCCASIONED BY THE BATTLE OF

WATERLOO

FEBRUARY 1816

1816 1816

(The last six lines intended for an Inscription.) INTREPID SONS of Albion! not by you

Is life despised; ah no, the spacious earth
Ne'er saw a race who held, by right of birth,
So many objects to which love is due:

Ye slight not life-to God and Nature true;
But death, becoming death, is dearer far,
When duty bids you bleed in open war:

Hence hath your prowess quelled that impious

crew.

Heroes! for instant sacrifice prepared;

Yet filled with ardour and on triumph bent 'Mid direst shocks of mortal accident

To you who fell, and you whom slaughter spared To guard the fallen, and consummate the event, Your Country rears this sacred Monument!

OCCASIONED BY THE BATTLE OF

WATERLOO

FEBRUARY 1816

1816 1816

THE Bard whose soul is meek as dawning day,
Yet trained to judgments righteously severe,
Fervid, yet conversant with holy fear,

As recognising one Almighty sway:

He whose experienced eye can pierce the array
Of past events; to whom, in vision clear,

The aspiring heads of future things appear,
Like mountain-tops whose mists have rolled away -
Assoiled from all encumbrance of our time,5
He only, if such breathe, in strains devout
Shall comprehend this victory sublime;
Shall worthily rebearse the hideous rout,

The triumph hail, which from their peaceful clime
Angels might welcome with a choral shout!

"EMPERORS AND KINGS, HOW OFT

HAVE TEMPLES RUNG"

1816 1827

EMPERORS and Kings, how oft have temples rung
With impious thanksgiving, the Almighty's scorn!
How oft above their altars have been hung
Trophies that led the good and wise to mourn
Triumphant wrong, battle of battle born,
And sorrow that to fruitless sorrow clung!

Now, from Heaven-sanctioned victory, Peace is

sprung;

In this firm hour Salvation lifts her horn.

Glory to arms! But, conscious that the nerve

Of popular reason, long mistrusted, freed

Your thrones, ye Powers, from duty fear to swerve! Be just, be grateful; nor, the oppressor's creed Reviving, heavier chastisement deserve

Than ever forced unpitied hearts to bleed.

FEELINGS OF A FRENCH ROYALIST, ON

THE DISINTERMENT OF THE REMAINS OF THE DUKE D'ENGHIEN

1816 1816

DEAR Reliques! from a pit of vilest mould
Uprisen to lodge among ancestral kings;

And to inflict shame's salutary stings

On the remorseless hearts of men grown old

In a blind worship; men perversely bold
Even to this hour, yet, some shall now forsake
Their monstrous Idol if the dead e'er spake,
To warn the living; if truth were ever told
By aught redeemed out of the hollow grave:
O murdered Prince! meek, loyal, pious, brave!
The power of retribution once was given:
But 't is a rueful thought that willow bands
So often tie the thunder-wielding hands

Of Justice sent to Earth from highest Heaven!

TRANSLATION OF PART OF THE FIRST

BOOK OF THE ÆNEID

1816 1832

TO THE EDITORS OF THE PHILOLOGICAL MUSEUM

Your letter, reminding me of an expectation I some time since held out to you of allowing some specimens of my translation from the Eneid to be printed in the Philological Museum, was not very acceptable; for I had abandoned the thought of ever sending into the world any part of that experiment for it was nothing more an experiment begun for amusement, and I now think a less fortunate one than when I first named it to you. Having been displeased in modern translations with the additions of incongruous matter, I began to translate with a resolve to keep clear of that fault, by adding nothing; but I became convinced that a spirited translation can scarcely be accomplished in the English language without admitting a principle of compensation. On this point, however, I do not wish to insist, and merely send the following passage, taken at random, from a wish to comply with your request. W. W.

BUT Cytherea, studious to invent
Arts yet untried, upon new counsels bent,
Resolves that Cupid, changed in form and face
To young Ascanius, should assume his place;
Present the maddening gifts, and kindle heat
Of passion at the bosom's inmost seat.