BONNETS ON THE DEATH OF WELLINGTON.
L We have not lost thee in thy glorious prime, Strong-hearted hero of true English mould ! Nor with vex'd nations' rights to win or hold In some convulsed and peril-clouded time ; Nor 'mid the querulous yells of half-fledged crime, By folly led, fantastically bold.
'Mid peaceful days we watch'd thee growing old,
Veteran of Duty, simple yet sublime ! And thou had lived, yet not outlived, thy day :
And that no charm thy destiny could renew—
That thou wad mortal like the rest, we knew.
And yet 'tie strange to deem thee pass'd away—
Oh brave in fight, in council wise and true,
A king of men through life, though crown'd at Waterloo!
With thee an age embodied slipp'd away, A living image of the eventful past. What wonder that, with full eyes backward cast, Once more we trace thy ever-brightening way, And dwell on all 'twas thine to do or say ? O chief I in blameless glory unsurpass'd,
A sun to cheer, no lightning-flash to blast—
The tyrant's scourge, but Law and Order's stay,
And thy free country's wonder to the last—
Farewell ! Be ours to mourn thee as we may ; And, while his grateful tears are falling fast,
Where thou shalt sleep, thy place right nobly won,
In yonder dome, an Englishman may pray,
' God grant our land once more as great a son!"
"God grant our land once more as great a son— As self-forgetful in his country's cause, True to her throne, her temples, and her laws—
As he who rests, his race of glory run, 'Mid the one voice of our prolong'd applause ! Oh may we learn to do as he has done, Self-bound like him wherever Duty draws !" Such afterthought thy tomb may teach each one. "England expects this day that every man Will do his duty !" thus the enthusiast said, And through each heart the shock electric ran : Near his we lay thy grave time-honour'd head— Oh ! spare of speech, twin glory of our land, Thy seal is set on that august demand!